\^ A ^ tar ^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGr (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 iHtlA |25 |io ■^~ ilJ^H £ U£ |2.0 ■Utaw IL25 i 1.4 1.6 Hiotograiinc Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STRIET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO (716) 873-4303 •^ \ [V o^ T 4^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques ^ Technical and Bibliographic Notos/Notas tachniquas at bibliographiquas Tha Inatituta haa anamptad to obtain tha baat original copy availabia for filming. 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Th sh( TII< wh Ml dif am bai rig raq ma This item is filmed «t the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est filmi au taux da reduction indiqu* ci-dassous. 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X 12X 16X aox 24X 28X 32X Th« copy fiim«d h«r« has b««n r«pro<^ue«d thanks to tho gonoroaity of: Brock University St. Catharines L'axamplaira film* fut raproduit grica A la gAniroaitA da: Broeic University St. Catliarines Tha imagas appaaring hara ara th« boat quality poaaibia eonaidaring tha condition and laglbility of tha original copy and in Icaaping with tha filming contract apacificationa. Original copiaa in printad papar eovara ara filmad baglnning with tha front covar and anding on tha laat paga with a printad or illuatratad impraa> •ion. or tha bacic covar whan appropriata. All othar original copiaa ara filmad baglnning on tha f irat paga with a printad or illuatratad impraa- •ion, and anding on tha laat paga with a printad or illuatratad impraaalon. Tha laat racordad frama on aaeh microficha •hall contain tha aymboi -^^ (moaning "CON- TINUED"), or fia aymboi ▼ (moaning "END"), whichavar appliaa. Las imagaa •uivantas ont Ati raproduitaa avac la piua grand soin. compta tanu da la condition at da la nattat* da l'axamplaira film*, at %n conformity avac laa conditiona du contrat da filmaga. Laa axamplairaa originaux dont la couvartura an papiar aat imprimAa aont filmto an commandant par la pramiar plat at an tarminant aoit par la darnlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'impraaaion ou d'illuatration. soit par la aacond plat, aalon la caa. Toua laa autraa axamplairaa originaux aont filmte an commandant par la pramlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'impraaaion ou d'illuatration at an tarminant par la damlAra paga qui comporta una talla amprainta. Un daa aymbolaa auivanta apparaftra aur la darniira irnaga da chaqua microficha. salon la caa: la aymbola — ^ signifia "A SUIVRE". la symbols ▼ signifia "FIN". Mapa. piataa. charta, ate. may ba filmad at diffarant raduction ratioa. Thoaa too iarga to ba antiraly inciudad in ona axpoaura ara filmad baglnning in tha uppar laft hand cornar. laft to right and top to bottom, aa many framaa aa raquirad. Tha following diagrama illuatrata tha mathod: Laa cartaa. planchaa. tablaaux. ate, pauvant Atra flimAa A daa taux da rAduction diff Arants. Lorsqua la document aat trop grand pour Atra raproduit an un aaul ciichA. il aat filmA A partir da I'angia supAriaur gaucha, da gaucha A c«roita. at da haut an baa, an pranant la nombra d'imagaa nAcaaaaira. Laa diagrammaa suivanta iiluatrant la mAthoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 HAWK OWU OUR BIRDS IN THEIR HAUNTS: A POPULAR TREATISE ON THE BIRDS OF EASTERN NORTH AMERICA. BY REV. J. HIBBERT LANGILLE, M. A. " How pleasant the life of a bird must be, Flitting about in each leafy tree; In the leafy trees, so broad and tall, Like a green and beautiful palace hall. With its airy chambers, light and boon. That open to sun and stars and moon. That open into the bright blue sky, And the frolicsome winds as they wander by." Mary Howitt. BOSTON: E. CASSINO & COMPANY. 1884. 201 n Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, By J. H. LANGILLE, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. To DR. ELLIOTT COUES, WHOSE PRINTED WORKS, PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE AND GREAT PERSONAL KINDNESS, HAVE BEEN OF INESTIMABLE VALUE TO ANY SUCCESS POSSIBLE FOR THIS BOOK. IT IS GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY The AirxHOR. PREFACE. n^HE first aim of this work is to render as popular and attractive as possible, as well as to bring within a small compass, the sum total of the bird-life of Eastern North America. I have therefore given brief descriptions, and for the most part full life histories, of all the species commonly east of the Mississippi, giving special attention to the songs and nesting, and dwelling upon the curious and fascinating, of which there is so much in the lives of these wonderful creatures. The narrative follows, in the main, the order of the seasons, and groups itself about certain interesting localities, as Niagara River and St. Clair Flats, for instance. I give a good deal of attention to migration, instinct, the analogy of nidification, the special- ized forms and adaptations of structure in birds, etc., endeavoring particularly to make all this readable. Par- ticularly do I note the many evidences of a Designing Intelligence in this department of nature. Hence the 6 PREFACE. author addresses himself especially to men of his own profession — the gospel ministry; and would earnestly urge them to become, as far as possible, the interpreters of nature as well as of the written word. Thus may they come most fully into sympathy with the Great Teacher, who pointed to the " fowls of the air " and the " lilies of the field " as the most instructive object-lessons of a practical faith. Let the pastor go with the little ones of his flock to see the nest of the Oriole in the orchard, or of the Pewee under the bridge; and he will not only go to the orchard and to the bridge, but he will find his way into the little heart. If he cannot become a naturalist, he may acquire, at least, a general intelligence of natural objects, thus finding many hours of healthful and happy recreation, furnishing his own mind with food for thought, and discovering ready avenues to other minds. In this day of almost universal thirst for natural science, the minister can ill afford to be ignorant of the natural world around him. Happy, indeed, will it be for his ministry if, instead of leaving the interpretation of nature to the ungodly and the atheistic, he may show to the people the thoughts of an infinitely wise and good Creator embodied in the universe. What is said to the preacher on this topic may apply also to the Sunday School teacher, and, indeed, should apply to the secular teacher of every grade. PREFACE. 7 The farmers of our country are, for the most part, a very intelligent class, as the writer well knows from per- sonal intercourse with them. Many of them might, and should be, amateur naturalists. This would turn many an hour of field -labor into a recreation, and could not fail to be an important aid in the education of their families. A popular book, giving a pleasing account of the habits and characters of the birds of the garden, the Oi'chard, the field and the forest, would be a work of frequent reference, and might afford many an hour of leisurely reading in connection with more or less obser- vation, and thus would be a constant source of pleasure and profit. In short, I have tried to meet a wide demand never yet met in this country — to have a book on birds for every- body. I write almost entirely from personal observation, incorporating in my work a full report for Western New York and the adjoining regions of the Great Lakes, and a pretty full report for Nova Scotia; also a good deal of direct information from Hudson's Bay, by means of an excellent correspondent. This last feature of original investigation should specially commend the work to the scientist. I would here acknowledge the cordial aid received through correspondence with a large circle of naturalists and amateurs, whose names appear in different parts of 8 PREFACE. the work ; tind also the great personal kindness ^r the way of friendly entertainment, on the part of a large circle of friends, during many years of travel and inves- tigation over different parts of the field under review. The illustrations, which should add much to the character of the book, have been nearly all furnished by Dr. Coues, whose scientific nomenclature, as given in his former works, I have adopted throughout. On this subject, now so much in distress, I claim no authority; and those wishing the check-list of the Smithsonian Institution can easily procure it. J. H. LANGILLE. June 26th, 1884. Buffalo, N. Y. CHAPTET I. HOAR-FROST. IT was early winter. The ground wiis covered with snow, but the atmosphere had been laden 'a tth a dense falling mist. The temperature falling below the freezing point, throughout the night a zephyr-like wind from the north- east continued to crystallize the moisture on every object, arraying the landscape in a most magnificent hoar-frost. The delicate plumose or spinulose ornaments increased every twig and spear of grass to many times its size. The spray of trees and shrubs seemed almost as dense as when arrayed in a young foliage; telegraph wires were as thick as cables; and the delicate array of spinulose plumes on the evergreens was of greater magnitude than their own dark covering. The exquisite delicacy and beauty of the patterns of crystal- lization were indescribable. The whole landscape was a charming fairy-land. The genius of a Greek mind might well have conceived that all the hosts of rural and sylvan deities had been at work; while, in this inimitable robe of snow-white purity, the Christian theist might read the thoughts of Him who is the Author of the beautiful, as well as of the true and the good. 10 THE HORNED LARK, THE HORNED LARK. In the dead calm every object was motionless. Perfect stillness reigned. The slightest sound was awakening. What could be more pleasing to the lover of nature at such a time than the graceful flight and the musical notes of birds ? Ever and anon, small, loose flocks of Horned Larks {Eremophila alpestris) appeared, alighting in the fields and along the highway; and they seemed as social and happy as so many Frenchmen, as they flew, and ran, and squatted, and hopped, vying with each other in their soft conversa- tional tseep^ tseepes. This is one of the most characteristic birds of Western New York. In Orleans County, and westward, throughout the year, unless it be in December, there is none which one is more liable to meet. Though in much smaller flocks, it may as frequently appear in the snow-storm as the Snow Bunting, and is much more common in the finer weather of midwinter than the Goldfinch or the Lesser Redpoll. From the frozen fields or the frost-clod fence it greets us with its song already in early February, several weeks before we hear the soft warble of the Bluebird, or the resonant notes of the Song Sparrow, and so gives us the first bird-song of the year. When the earth is soaked and the air is chilled from the thaws of spring, it is as merry and chipper and full of song as ever. It is amidst the merry throngs of May, trav- erses the heated dust of the highway in July and August, and in the mild, hazy days of Indian summer, gives forth a respectable echo of its more vigorous song of the breeding season. Until very recently the breeding habitat of this species has been wholly consigned to the far north; but it is now well understood that it breeds abundantly in the lake counties of Western New York, and more or less to the eastward as far as Troy, raising two broods, the first being THE HORNED LARK. 11 very early. Rev. Wih. Elgin, of Rochester, N. Y., a com- petent observer, writes to me as follows: — "On the 28th of April, 1875, 1 discovered in the Park, near the lake at Buffalo, the nest of a pair of Homed Larks, containing four young birds which I took to be at least eight days old. I had observed the parent birds in that locality early in the month, and had been watching their movements ever since, being convinced from their actions, when first noticed, that they were nesting. But my search was not rewarded till the day above named. When the parent birds were first seen, the ground was bare, but about the 10th there fell several inches of snow, which lay on the ground several days, during which time the temperature frequently fell almost to zero. Under these circumstances, it seemed to me a marvel that any of the eggs hatched, since the bird must have been sitting while the ground — and in fact her- self— was covered with snow. Yet the nest was admirably contrived for this weather, being placed in a small basin scooped out of the level ground, and carefully lined with fine dried grass, the top being on a level with the surface. Such a case of nidification certainly argues a marked degree of hardihood in the species. Another circumstance, which fell under my observation, would tend also to con- firm this opinion. On the Vth of April, 1878, near the village of Wayne, Steuben County, I observed a female Horned Lark feeding a pair of young in the road; the young being so far matured as to be able to fly from the road to the fence, a distance of fully three rods. In this case the nest must have been begun early in March." These instances accord with the nests reported as found near Racine, Wisconsin, while the snow was on the ground. On the 6th of April, 1880, as I was crossing a meadow a few days after a snow-fall of some three or four inches, a 12 THE HORNED LARK. female Homed Lark fiew out from under the snow near my feet Thrusting my finger carefully through the cold cov- ering, I touched the eggs, still warm; and picking out care- fully the snow which had fallen into the nest as the bird left it, I found four eggs about half incubated. Who would not be impressed with the fidelity of this bird to her charge, thus allowing herself to be snowed over, and continuing to sit, as she no doubt would have done, till she thawed out again? The second set of eggs is laid in June. The full fledged young are of a mottled gray color, somewhat like the first plumage of young Screech Owls. The nest is made of stubble, rootlets, and dried grasses, sometimes having a little wool or horse-hair in the lining. It is well sunken into the ground, and is generally a frail, loose and inartistic struct- ure. The eggs, commonly four, about .88 x .62, are gray- ish-white, thickly speckled all over with greenish-brown, having a similar under-marking of pale lilac or purplish- brown. They cannot be easily mistaken for any other eggs in this locality. Mr. James Booth, of Drummondville, Ontario, for over thirty years a distinguished taxidermist for Niagara Falls, Buffalo, and the region round about, says that the Horned Larks did not breed here formerly; that this southern ex- tension of their breeding habitat is a recent and noticeable change. With this corresponds the testimony of Mr. T. Mcllwraith, of Hamilton, Ont. Audubon found the- nests of this species common on the moss-clad coasts of Labrador. Mr. James Fortiscue, an excellent correspondent of mine, who is chief factor of the Hudson's Bay Company at York Factory, reports it as a summer resident about Hudson's Bay, building its nest "in grass along the coast." THE HORNED LARK. 13 The species has been known to breed in Canada West, in southern Iowa, Indiana, and in the northwest generally, while one variety is known to breed in New Mexico. This latter variety is said to be smaller and brighter colored than the common type^ while that of the northwest is larger and lighter in color. As one approaches the Atlantic States, the Homed Lark is irregularly migratory in large flocks; this common type being in no respect different from its European representative. Ordinarily the Horned Lark is strictly terrestrial. When alighted it is most compi ^nly seen resting on the ground or walking; it is a great walker, maintaining its center of gravity by a graceful, dove-like motion of the head. Seldom, if ever, is it seen in a tree, aspiring, when at rest, merely to the top rail of the fence. It has one trick, however, strangely in contrast with its ordinary lowliness, and which once greatly perplexed me. It was a sunny afternoon, late in May. Hearing its song, now quite familiar to me, I strolled warily through the open field, hoping to find its nest. But whence came the song? It was as puzzling as the voice of a ventriloquist. Now it seemed on the right, and now on the left, and now in some other direction. Presently I caught the way of the sound, and lo! its author was soaring high in air, moving in short curves up, up, singing for a few moments as it sailed with expanded wings before each flitting curve upward, till it became a mere speck in the zenith, and finally I could scarcely tell whether I saw it or not But I still heard the song, one that never can be mistaken, so unlike is it to that of any other bird. At first one is at a loss whether to be pleased with it, and is tempted to compare it to the screaking of an ungreased wheelbarrow. " Quit^ quit^ gutty you silly rig and get away^* it seems to say: the first three or four syllables being slowly 14 THE HORNED LARK. and distinctly uttered, and the rest somewhat hurriedly run together. However, like the faces and voices of certain people, this ditty sweetens on acquaintance, and finally be- comes a real source of pleasure. But I must not be diverting. I am still looking into the deep blue, when the black speck unmistakably reappears, and gradually enlarges as the bird approaches. Down, down it comes, meteor-like, with wings almost closed, until one fears it will dash out its life on the earth. But no, it alights in safety, and steps along with all its wonted stateliness, dividing the time between its luncheon and its song. Many a time since, and sometimes as early as the last days of February, I have witnessed the same maneuver, and always with renewed pleasure. So Bayard Taylor is not mistaken after all, when, in his " Spring Pastoral," he speaks of " Larks responding aloft to the mellow flute of the Bluebird." And though the song of our bird can bear no comparison to the astounding song-flights of the European Skylark, their similarity of manner indicates the relationship of the two species. In the northwest, on the prairies about the Upper Missouri and its tributaries, is the Missouri Skylark, so admirably described by Dr. Coues, and which, in its lofty flight and great powers of song, seem? scarcely if at all second to the famous bird of the Old World. The Korned Lark is 7-Y.60 inches long, somewhat larger than our ordinary-sized sparrow, its shape being about as peculiar as its voice. The bill is rather long for a song- bird, quite pointed, and a little curved; on its head are two tufts of erectile black feathers, from which it receives part of its common name. As in the case of other larks, but unlike the rest of the song birds, the scales of the leg extend THE LESSER REDPOLL, 15 around behind; and its hind claw is very long and straight. This lark is always in a squatting position, with drooping tail when at rest. With a long, black patch on each cheek, a someM^hat triangular black spot on the upper part of the breast, reddish light-brown above and dull white beneath, with yellow throat, long pointed wings tipped with black, and a tail of the same color, a peculiar undulating flight often accompanied with a soft tseep or tseepes, whether sitting, walking, or flying, this bird readily appeals to the eye of the observer. It was formerly placed in the Fringillida family among the sparrows and their relatives, but now stands with a Lark family, formed by later ornithologists. In the main, it is a seed-eating species, but also subsists largely on in- sects. THE LESSER REDPOLL. On this same day of indescribably beautiful hoar-frost my garden was visited by an immense flock of birds, common throughout New England and the Middle States during winter, but resident in the more northern climes in summer. They came in a cloud, the gfraceful curves of their undulating flight intersecting each other at all angles, while here and there one seemed to be describing unusually long, sweeping curves amidst the dense moving mass, as if throwing out* a challenge to its more moderate companions. Cree-cree-cree- cree, shree-shree-shree-shree^ coming in soft, lisping voices from hundreds of little throats, at once swells into a grand volume of sound, which indicates that nearly all are taking part in the animated conversation. They alight indiscriminately on trees, shrubs, and weeds, and also on the ground, and begin their search for food. Taking alarm readily, they resort to the leafless tree-tops in the vicinity, or, rising high, they leave the spot. This is decidedly our most beauti- ful bird of the Winter. About the size of a canary, 5-6.60 16 THE LESSER REDPOLL. and 8.50 in extent, the general color of the upper parts is a rich dark brown, every feather being delicately fringed with grayish white; around the base of the bill and extend- ing down the throat is a band of dusky black; the top of the head is bright glossy crimson; on the lower part of the back, where the feathers are so deeply fringed with white that the brown almost disappears, there is a slight touch of carmine; and in the mature male the breast and under parts, which are ordinarily white streaked with brown on the sides, are finely tinged with rose-color. How these delicate tints of rose and carmine set off the winter landscape, appearing as gay as peach-blossoms in the leafless brown of early spring. Redpoll is a member of the same family with the sparrows (the Fringillida). From its noticeable resemblance to them and its delicately-tinted breast, it is sometimes called the Rose-breasted Sparrow, but is commonly known as the Lesser Redpoll. Dr. Coues gives the habitat of the Redpoll {^giothus linarid)^ "From Atlantic to Pacific, ranging irregularly southward in flocks in winter, to the Middle States (sometimes a little beyond) and corresponding latitudes in the west." As to its breeding, he cites Audu- bon, who says that it breeds " in Maine, Nova Scotia, New- foundland, Labrador and the fur countries." The latter also describes the eggs as from four to six in number, measuring five-eighths of an inch in length, rather more than half an inch in diameter, and pale bluish-green in color, sparingly dotted with reddish-brown toward the larger end. Mr. C. O. Tracy, of Taftsville, Vt., says in the Ornithol- ogist and Oologist, June, 1883: "The last of March, 187H, I found the nest and eggs of this species. The nest, now before me, is composed of fine, dry twigs, dried grasses, fine strips of fibrous bark, bits of twine, hair, fibrous roots, moss, dried leaves, pieces of "ocoons, feathers, thistle-down. THE CHICKADEE, 17 and other material, which are neatly woven together into a compact structure and lined with hair. It was placed very loosely among the top branches of a small spruce, about six feet from the ground, and contained three fresh eggs of a very pale bluish-green color, sparingly marked with spots and splashes of different shades of brown at the larger end. Dimensions, 72 X 48, 72 X 47, 71 X 48." I once saw several of these birds which Mr. Bing of Rochester had trapped and trained. One had a soft belt around his body, under his wings, to which was fastened a small chain and a bucket about as big as a thimble, with which he drew water out of a deep dish, and drank. Another had a tiny car on a platform outside the cage; and as this little vehicle was fastened to the inside of the cage by a chain and contained his food, he would draw it in whenever he wished a repast. Even after witnessing all this, I felt that, to me, the bird was but a stranger, for I had never heard its song nor seen its nest. A closely allied species or variety is found in Europe. The so-called Mealy Redpoll may be regarded as a palor variety of the common Redpoll — an Arctic race, not difficult to recognize, repre- senting in America the true Mealy Redpoll {A. canescens) of Greenland. The broad, whitish fringe of the plumage, the elegant rose-white rump, and the pale, rosy breast give a peculiar delicate beauty to this variety. THE CHICKADEE. I have finished my morning ramble, and am fairly seated in my study, when lo ! a familiar voice calls me to the window. Chickadee-dee-dee ^ chick, chick, chickadee, chickadee-dee-dee-dee ; most cheerful and winning voice of a winter's day ! There they are, little Black-capped Titmice or Chickadees, finding a satisfactory repast in those frosted evergreens, where my 2 18 THE CHICKADEE. eyes can detect nothing of the kind; standing upright, tipping forward, stretching upward, leaning to right and left, or hanging by the feet; so brimful of contentment, so sweet-spirited and confiding, with so much of the sun- shine of hope in their voices, that they are a most signifi- cant reproof to querulous, unsatisfied human nature. Those above given are far from being the only notes of the Black-capped Chickadee {Parus atricapiUus)^ if they have christened him. They seem to be especially his win- ter song, Whether he be in the door-yard, in the deep forest, or in the crowded town; and the same vocal per- formance can hardly be said to characterize him in summer, though it is then occasionally heard. Throughout the year, but especially in the breeding season, he has many quaint little notes, sounding very much like subdued and familiar conversation. Tse-de-yay, tse-de-yay; tsip, tsipj and a soft, almost indescribable, peep, P^^Py are among his common utterances in secluded parts of the deep forest. How much of the happy, inner life of these little creatures may be communicated in these soft, musical phrases ! But that which pre-eminently constitutes the song of the Chickadee is a soft, elfin whistle of two notes, heard occasionally even in midwinter, but most commonly in the breeding season — IVhee-hee. The former syllable is in the rising and the latter in the falling inflection; the whole being uttered in a soft, plaintive, tremulous, melting tone, which almost re- strains one's breath . while listening. It is the voice of pathethic tenderness, and makes one feel how much of conscious life may vibrate in the breast of a tiny bird. Long years did I wait after becoming an ornithologist before I could get a glimpse of the nest of the Chickadee. On a beautiful, sunny 24th of May, in a thicket of Tona- wanda Swamp, while I was studying the song of the Black- THE CHICKADEE. 10 throated Green Warbler, a Chickadee dropped into the side of an old stump, just a few feet before me. The hole which it entered was near the top, about two feet and a half from the ground; and as the stump was mellow, it was not many minutes before I had sufliciently enlarged the passage with my jack-knife to get a good view of the inside. I have often felt the subduing influence of the familiar, trustful w^ys of this little bird, but never did it seem so gentle and confiding as now, peering up at me with such a mingled look of surprise and firmness, which, to say the least, was very disconcerting to an oologist. The exca- vation was new, and evidently made by the bird itself. The nest consisted of a loose but well-made felt of moss, fibres of bark, down and hair. For safety and softness few nests could surpass it. The seven eggs were a little smaller than those of the common Wren, some .64 X .51, of a delicate, flesh-tinted white, minutely dotted with red, the marks thickening and running together at the large end. In all respects this nest is representative. The nesting of any bird, however, is subject to variation. Sometimes the Chkkadee makes its own excavation in a green tree, and sometimes it appropriates ihe abandoned nest of the Downy Woodpecker. It feeds especially on the larvae and eggs of insects. About the size of a canary, some 5-5.25 long, and 7.75-8.25 in extent, its bill is short, somewhat thick, straight and strong; its head is large and its neck short, body plump and tail longish; it is deep, glossy black on the head, down the back of the neck and on the throat; cheeks pure white; upper parts dark drab, much lighter and yellowish on the rump; and of the same color, or somewhat lighter, under- neath. These markings are strongly contrasted, and render the bird a conspicuous object at any time of year; but at 20 THE PINE GROSBEAK. no time is one so forcibly impressed with the beauty, as also with the familiarity, of this gentle little creature as when meeting it in the depth of the forest on a bleak win- ter's day. Then the flock appear like bright and gracefully moving ornaments on the dark evergreens or leafless spray. Then this bird becomes the familiar companion of the soli- tary woodman, and will even venture to light on his ai >ii and take from his hand the crumbs of his luncheon. The Chickadee belongs to the Titmouse or Paridce family, and has many near relatives, such as the Mountain Chicka- dee, Chestnut-back Chickadee, Long-tailed Chickadee, etc., which resemble \t very closely. Our species is a bird of the Northeastern States, extending to Alaska, replaced from Maryland and Illinois southward by the Carolina Titmouse, which Mr. Maynard regards as simply a smaller variety of the same species. About the size of our Black-cap, and in all respects similiar in habit, is the Hudson's Bay Titmouse {Parus hudsonius). The jet black on the crown of the former is replaced by an elegant brown; the pure white on the cheeks by a grayish white; the back and sides are also tinged with brown; otherwise, their similarity in marking is close. Hudsonius is common to British North America, breeding as far south as Maine. I found it very common in Nova Scotia. Its strongly characterized note chect-a-day- day-day, cheet-a-day, uttered in a rather low key, may always distinguish it. THE PINE GROSBEAK. As I go out through the front yard during the forenoon, I almost run my head into a flock of Pine Grosbeaks {Pinicola enucleator), feeding eagerly on the berries of a mountain ash. The hoar-frost falls in a cloud as a dozen or more of them shake the spray and the branches in taking their food. About 8.50 in length, this species is very robust and plump^ THE FINE GROSBEAK, SI with a short, thick, almost hawk-like bill, and the tail slightly notched. The general color of the old male is bright crimson-red, the feathers, especially on the back, THB FINE CROSBBAK. showing elegant centers of dusky ash; the lores, the sides of the head and body, and the under tail coverts, ashy; two bands on the wing coverts, white; wings and tail, dusky. Female and young, ashy, variously marked or tinged with greenish yellow or light golden brown on the crown and rump, or even over the back and breast. As the male is no doubt several years in reaching his bright colors of matu- rity, nearly all the individuals visiting us in winter are ashy. To the naturalist and artist the old males are a great desideratum. Scarcely can the southern climes send us a inore brilliant migrant than this casual visitor from the north. Immature specimens may arrive in New England and the Middle States, already in the wake of Indian Sum- mer, but only in severe winters are they common. Then the flocks of 10-20 may contain quite a sprinkling of the R'p^'r fl9 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER, ! brilliant old males, and occasionally this species may extend its winter flight as far south as Maryland, Ohio, Illinois and Kansas. As I fire into the flock in the mountain ash, they scatter into the surrounding trees, loth to fly away, and emit a loud and prolonged peenk^ sounding almost like the note of a hawk. Its song is said to be a pleasing warble. It breeds from northern Maine and the Maritime Provinces north- ward, being common about Moose Factory on James' Bay, and down the Rocky Mountains into Colorado. The nest, placed in trees, is made of sticks and grasses, atid contains 8-4 eggs, oval, about .97 X .79» "pale bluish-green in color, spotted, dotted, and lined with brown and umber." THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. I was never naturally fond of a g-un. But for the emer- gencies of natural history I should never have used much powder and shot; but I cannot, like Thoreau, become a nat- uralist without either gfun or trap. He must have been on remarkably good terms with the inhabitants of the woods and the fields. In the afternoon of this same day of the hoar-frost, I spied a Downy Woodpecker pounding away at a beautiful moun- tain ash in the front yard. Of course he would not hurt the tree, but I was tempted to get the bird; so, notwithstand- ing my poor marksmanship, I started with an old shot-gun to procure the specimen. As usual, the bird was very unsuspecting, and allowed me to come quite near. I fired, but, to my surprise, the bird flew to the next tree, appar- ently without the least surprise. I loaded and fired again, but without securing my specimen, and, it would seem, without even alanning him. Again I fired, and again and again, and yet the bird seemed as safe and self-possessed THE DOWNY WOODPECKER, 23 about the yard as before the first shot. I felt assured the bird's time of departure was not yet come, and so conchided to do without it. But as I afterward became more success- ful with a gun, and consequently got Downy in my hand for a careful examination (and to an ornithologist a bird in the hand is worth a good many in the«bush), I will give at least a brief account of him. And first I may say that, con- cerning all the Woodpeckers, an account of the habits of one comes very near being an account of them all. Concerning their nests Mr. John Burroughs has well said: "Ti > Woodpeckers all build in about the same manner, excavating the trunk or branch of a decayed tree and deposit- ing the eggs on the fine fragments of wood at the bottom of the cavity. Though the nest is not especially an artistic work — requiring strength rather than skill — yet the eggs and the young of few other birds are so completely housed from the elements — or protected from their natural enemies, the jays, crows, hawks and owls. A tree with a natural cavity is never selected, but one which has been dead just long enough to have become soft and brittle throughout* The bird goes in horizontally for a few inches, making a hole perfectly round and smooth and adapted to his size, then turns downward, gradually enlarging the hole, as he pro- ceeds, to the depth of ten, fifteen, twenty inches, according to the softness of the tree and the urgency of the mother- bird to deposit her eggs. While excavating, male and female work alternately. After one has been engaged fifteen or twenty minutes, drilling and carrying out chips, it ascends to an upper limb, utters a loud call or two, when its mate soon appears, and, alighting near it on the branch, the pair chatter and caress a moment, then the fresh one enters the cavity, and the other flies away." * Living trees of the softer kind are often eligible. 24 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. h 1 i: ! In these same cavities they continue to take lodgings by night, or take refuge in bad weather, thus making these, as well as natural cavities in trees and stubs, places of conven- ient shelter. The strongly characterized eggs of the Woodpeckers, with smooth, glossy, translucent shell, and of the purest white, are very gems in oology. Are they white in order that the bird may readily see them as it enters its dusky chamber? What a Spartan-like bed are those few chips on which the young are reared! Indeed, everything about the Wood- pecker indicates hardihood and industry. He is a moral object-lesson to the self-indulgent and indolent. As Wilson has truly suggested — having no vocal power to charm — the Woodpeckers occupy the honorable position of carpenters among the birds.* For this purpose their struct- ure is most admirably adapted. Held in position by means of large, strong feet, having two toes turned forward and two backward, and by a tail having every feather stiff and pointed; with a strong, chisel-shaped bill, skull-bones of unusual size and strength, and a neck which works like a lever, they can do marvelous execution. The tongue — elastic, barbed, viscid, and the back part or hyoid bone being coiled up lik, the mainspring of a watch, and in every way adapted to the seizure of insects — was well chosen by Paley as a striking evidence of design in creation. And the ornithologist, observing how the bird chooses the dead trees and those dying from the destructive effect of insects as the objects of its workmanship, will readily confirm, from the study of habit, what the anatomist infers from structure. Closing the wings and gliding through the air after sev- eral vigorous strokes, the flight of the Woodpeckers is undu- lating; and, just before lighting, they glide upwards a few ♦ Carpentero is the ordinary name of the Woodpecker among the Mexicans. THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 25 feet to check their direct momentum. Clinging to the bark oi the trunk or larger limbs of the trees with their sharp, hooked claws, and using the peculiar feathers of the tail as a support, they hop upward or sidewise, or drop backward, but do not move with the head downward, after the manner of the Nuthatches. They often take insects on the wing, and relish the smaller fruits; but their principal fare consists of insects and their eggs and larvae as found in the bark or crevices, or as excavated and drawn out from decaying or damaged trees. Now, from the general to the particular. The Downy Woodpecker {Picus pubescens), 6.75 and 12.00 in extent, is the dwarf of his family, and, in color and marking, is almost pre- cisely like his nearest relative, the Hairy Woodpecker. His small size alone may distinguish him from all other Wood- peckers in this locality. The top of the head, the cheeks, the back of the neck, both sides of the back, the wings and central feathers of the tail are jet black. A stripe running back over each eye, and one extending back from under each eye and up the sides of the neck, the middle of the back, regular transverse rows of round spots in the wings, and three feathers on each side of the tail are white, the latter being spotted with black , The under parts are of a grayish white, and the male is marked with carmine on the sides of the hind head. Like those of all the rest of the family, the eggs of this little species, some 86 x .62, are pure white. As is common with Woodpeckers, both sexes take part in incubation. The Downy Woodpecker is particu- larly fond of orchards and such arboreal accommodations as may be found in the vicinity of the abode of man. Its note, chick, chick, is cheerful, and suggestive of contentment and self-satisfaction, and, like :he notes of the Woodpeckers in general, expresses a vigc r jus energy. It is resident 26 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. throughout Eastern North America, and northwestward to Alaska, be'tg represented west of the Rocky Mountains by Gairdner's Woodpecker. CHAPTER II. SNOWED IN. WHAT is more romantic, in this our northern clime than a heavy snow-storm ? What wonder that one of our most distinguished American poets could elaborate a charming^ poem under the title, " Snow-bound." What can be more suggestive of purity, more symbolic of a clean sheet on which to begin a new chapter in life, than the mantle of snow which shrouds the landscape about the beginning of our solar year ? " No cloud above, no earth below — A universe of sky and snow." Then the snow-flakes ! What wonders of beauty they are I Unity in variety is the law of their forms of delicate beauty. Always star-like, with just six rays or main points, they seem to include every variety of detail on this plan, from the perfectly plain six-rayed star to the most elaborate plumose flower conceivable. Every mineral having its in- variable angle of crystallization — and snow and ice belong to the mineral kingdom — water, in consolidating, shoots forth its angles at precisely 60® — a fact which the merest fragment of a snow-flake will reveal. It is only under cer tain circumstances that they can be seen to advantage. If they pass through a stratum of air too mild to keep them below the freezing point, they blend, and appear like pellets of white lint; if there is much wind, they are broken into Bi :i| 28 THE SNOW BUNTING, fine particles. When they fall rightly, examine them on 3'our coat-sleeve under a magnifying glass, and you will find them to be among the most perfect of nature's mar- velous workmanship. THE SNOW BUNTING. A cold, gray, midwinter day had been followed by a quiet snow-fall of many inches, which, perfectly undisturbed, lay in a huge, evenly-distributed pile over the entire landscape. THE SNOW BUNTING. From the dried mullein-stalk, standing in the fence-comer, to the heavy forest, the form of every object was changed, was rendered fantastic and ghost-like, in this universal shroud of piare white. Now the flakes were unusually large and elaborate; for, be it remembered, nearly every snow-storm affords a new pattern of the flake. On the bright morning which followed, while the whole earth gave back the grateful rays of the sun in countless tiny stars of dazzling scintillation, I was just in the act of dipping up a handful of the fleecy snow in absorbing admiration, when lo ! an immense cloud, nearly as white as the sno\y itself, THE SNOW BUNTING, 29 swept over my head, and dropped down into a field a few rods beyond. But this cloud of Snow-flakes — for so the Snow Buntings are sometimes called — was musical, filling the air with a soft warbling chipper as they flew, and keep- ing up the -same notes after they had alighted. How their predominance of white harmonizes with the snow on which, they hop and skip and flutter ! while the patches and mot- tl,ings of yellowish ocher and black, so varied in size and form in different individuals, remind one of the autumnal earth-colors just beneath the whitened landscape. They seem to take delight in the snow and in the cold. Indeed^ this hardy, happy little bird is the true herald of snow, seeming to keep ever on the line, or a little in advance, of the snow-storm, and generally in large flocks. As the winter is setting in, one may stand on the south of our great Lake Ontario and see them coming across by the thousand, their rear outline being skirted by the various smaller Hawks, moving southward at the same time, and foraging as they go. Their sprightly movement when on the ground, the zest with which they feed on the seeds of weeds and grasses, cannot but give one the impression of good cheer and plenty on the most inclement winter's day. Impressed with the utility of even the weeds, in the nice adjustment of the economy of nature, and with the confident air of these birds seeking their daily food, one cannot but recall the words of the Great Teacher: " Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them." The birds are not idle, indeed. They accomplish a great mission. A single year without their labors would be fol- lowed by a degree of disaster inconceivable, perhaps by a famine. We learn " that in the early times of the American rf 30 THE LAPLAND LONG SPUR. colonies the farmers of New England offered threepence a head for the Crow Blackbirds, on account of their destruct- iveness in the grain fields. Consequently they were nearly extirpated for a time, and the insects increased to such a degree as to cause a total loss of herbage, and the farmers were compelled to obtain hay from Pennsylvania, and even from Great Britain." But the birds can do nothing what- ever to provide their own food. Yet when are they seen starving or wanting sustenance? The cloud of Snow-flakes, having taken sudden alarm, are risen high in air. What graceful gyrations and evolutions ! and how the pure white of their under parts fairly gleams against the clear ether. Must not that soft, musical chatter be an intelligible conversation among themselves ? Never did minds communicate in happier tones. The nest of this bird was once found in New Hampshire, on a slope of the White Mountains, " on the ground among low bushes, and formed like that of the Song Sparrow." It contained young. Another is reported, even from Spring- field; Massachusetts. The ordinary breeding place of the Snow Bunting, however, is in the Arctic regions, where it is said to spend the summer in great numbers. It now becomes a bird of accomplished song, building a sub- stantial nest on the ground and in the clefts of rock, lined with feathers and the hair of the Arctic fox. The eggs, .90 X -65, are whitish, mottled with brown, especially around the larger end, where the blotches sometimes become a dark wreath. The species is common to the higher latitudes of the whole northern hemisphere. THE LAPLAND LONGSPUR. In Western New York, the sunshine of early winter is very fickle. In a few hours the clearest sky may be robed w«ti»>i'*t«a.a(ff THE LAPLAND LONG SPUR, 31 in the dark-leaden clouds so peculiar to that season;, and when, perchance, the sun breaks through, they may be fringed with a rich amber, quite uncommon at other seasons of the year. On this morning after the snow-fall, the sun- shine left almost as suddenly as the Snow Buntings, and with the leaden clouds appeared another flock, equally large, and so similar in size, form and movement that one might readily think them the same were it not for the pre- dominance of the dark colors. They are as dark as the sparrows; the black and ocher, so common to the Snow Buntings, making up the entire dress, except the white underneath and on the sides of the neck; while the breast, cheeks and sides under the wings are ornamented with rich, black feathers, delicately tipped with white. Thus the careful observer will readily distinguish them as the Lap- land Longspurs {Plectrophanes lapponicus), and quite different from the Snow Buntings {Plectrophanes nivalis)^ of the white dress, dark-ocher patch on the head lighter patches of the same on the ears, as also a tendency of the same, in the form of a collar low on the breast, black mixed with the same on the back, black in the center of the tail, upper wing-feathers and wing-tips. The Lapland Longspur spends the breeding season in large numbers about Great Slave Lake, McKen^ie's River, and in Alaska, arriving in the latter place the second week in May. At this time of year it is said to be an eminent songster. Dr. Coues describes the nidification as follows: "The eggs are rather pointed at the smaller end, and measure about 0.80 x 0.62. They are very dark colored, reminding one of the Titlark's; the color is a heavy cloud- ing or thick mottling of chocolate-brown, through which the greenish-gray ground is little apparent. The nests are built of mosses and fine, soft, dried grasses, and lined with ^si/Ji m 32 TITE HAIRY WOODPECKER. a few large feathers from some water-fowl; they were placed on the ground, under tussocks, in glassy hummocks. The female did not leave the nest until nearly trodden upon." Like the former, this bird occupies the Arctic regions of both continents, migrating southward in winter, even to warm-temperate latitudes, though the Longspur is not com- mon even then in this locality, and is not yet reported west of the Rocky Mountains. \\ HI THE HAIRY WOODPECKER. **^ Pimp 1 pimp! pimp!" with a sharp, metallic ring. Who does not know the voice of the Hairy Woodpecker? — sim- ilar, somewhat, and yet very unlike that of other members of the family. Its vigorous and incisive tones are asso- ciated with the sounds of my childhood. Well do I remem- ber its nest, commonly chiseled out of the American aspen, so soft and brittle, the nest being made in a large, living tree, and many feet from the ground. What gems were the ovate, smooth eggs, some .98 x -72, of translucent white; and how hard it seemed for the tender, unfledged young to lie on a. mere bed of chips ! Certain it is, however, that what may be lacking in luxury is made up in safety. What Blue Jay, Crow, Hawk or Owl would think of putting its head into that small, neat, round doorway ? Even a Raccoon would fare no better than Reync^rd, when the fabled Stork invited him to dinner; and what snake would think of wriggling up that straight and limbless trunk, some thirty feet or upwards ? The male, moreover, is a very hero in defense of its nest, flying angrily from tree to tree in the immediate vicinity when it is disturbed, and uttering an almost deafening racket of rage. The Hairy Woodpecker {Picus villosus) is 8.60-9.00 in length, plumage soft and blended on the back, appearing THE SHORT.EARED OWL. 88 more like hair than feathers; head, back of the neck, sides of the back, wings and central tail-feathers, black; stripe above and below the eye, the lower extending up the side of the neck, stripe down the middle of the back, side feathers of the tail, under parts and round spots in rows across the wings, white; the male having two bright red spots in the white stripes on the back of the head. Habitat, all eastern North America, reaching through Alaska, northwest; replaced by a variety called Harris' Woodpecker, beyond the Rocky Mountains. THE SHORT-EARED OWL. It is the dusk of twilight. How strong is the contrast between the snow-clad earth and the leaden, almost inky, sky! What bird is that flying low by the barn-yarn fence? It has alighted. Quickly as possible I get my shot-gun and creep around behind the barn. Meanwhile, a second has alighted by the side of the first. Probably they are male and female. I take aim, and over topples one of the birds, while the other spreads its noiseless wings and flies away. On picking up my specimen I find it to be the Short-eared Owl {Brachyotus palustris). Palustris means pertaining to the swamp or marsh, and is very properly applied to this species, as we shall presently see. From fourteen to fifteen inches long, light reddish brown, lighter beneath, upper parts thickly streaked with blackish-brown, lower parts more finely streaked with the same, face whitish, with black circles around the eyes, tail buff, legs a lighter shade of the same color, ear-tufts scarcely noticeable, this bird is very readily identified, for it is quite unlike any other Owl of this locality. The Short-eared Owl breeds commonly in the salt-marshes along the Atlantic and in marshy places in the interior, 3 II 84 THE SHORT.EARED OWL, ! 1 I i making its nest on the ground, sometimes of vety slight construction, laying some four or five roundish duU-white egg^, 1.60 X l.yo. Professor W. D. Scott, of Princeton, found it around the inlet of Barnagat Bay, as a sort of counterpart of the Marsh Hawk, scouring the marshes by night, while -the latter took its place in day-time, also breeding in the -same locality and on the ground. According to Dall, the Short-eared Owl sometimes breeds in burrows. It seems to be common to Europe, Asia, Greenland, America and the West Indies. Sometimes found in the woods, but generally adhering to swamps and marshes, this species is wont to rest on the ground during the day, and if startled flies up in a hurried and "zigzag" manner, "as if suddenly awakened from sound sleep," and sailing along rather low, drops down out of sight again. Mr. W. Brewster found these Owls preying upon the Terns on Muskegat Island. " A small colony of these birds had established itself upon a certain elevated part of the island, spending the day in a tract of densely- matted grass. Scattered about in this retreat were the remains of at least a hundred Terns that they had killed and eaten. Many of these were fresh, while others were in every stage of decomposition, or dried by the sun and wind. In each case the breast had been picked clean, but in no instance was any other portion disturbed. Every day, at a certain time, these Owls sallied forth in search of fresh prey. We used regularly to see them about sunset, sailing in cir- cles over the island or beating along the crests of the sand- hills. They were invariably followed by vast mobs of enraged Terns, which dived angrily down over the spot where the Owl had alighted, or strung out in the wake of its flight like the tail of a comet. The Owl commonly paid little attention to this unbidden following, and apparently «ra THE LONCEARED OWL, 85 never tried to seize its persecutors while on the wing, but on several occasions we saw a sitting bird pounced upon and borne off. Sometimes in the middle of the night a great outcry among the Terns told when a tragedy was being enacted." Like the rest of the Owls, the Short-ear is for the most part a bird of the night; and it feeds especially on mice and moles. THE LONG-EARED OWL {Otus vulgaris var. wilsonianus) is a common resident in the swamps and dense evergreen woods, but is nowhere abund- ant in Western New York. About the size of the former, it is readily distinguishable by its long ear-like tufts of 8~12 feathers, situated on the top of the head like the ears of a cat, and by its darker color; dark brown, mixed with fulvous and finely specked with white, above; white, lined and crossed with light-brown, below; facial disks and feet, fulv- ous; narrow ring around the eye, black. This variety of the European species {vulgaris) is of rather southern habitat, stretching across the continent, and, perhaps, barely extend- ing into New England. It breeds abundantly in Eastern Pennsylvania, its nest, placed in trees or possibly on the ground, being "usually constructed of rude sticks, sometimes of boughs with the leaves adherent thereto, externally, and generally, but not always, lined with the feathers of birds." The same nest is used for a succession of years, and it is the testimony of both Wilson and Audubon, as also of Buffon, in respect to the European variety, that the deserted nests of other birds are appropriated and repaired. The eggs, commonly four, about 1.50 X 1.35, are roundish and white, after the manner of Owls. In common with its class, the food of this species is small birds and reptiles and insects. ■ A 86 THE SCREECH OWL. THE SCREECH OWL. After a few days the weather grew intensely cold, the thermometer running ten degrees below zero. Making a professional visit on one of these bitter days, as I drove THE SCREECH 0\\\... into the barn-yard to unharness my horse, I noticed the result of quite a little tragedy in the animal kingdom. Some fifteen feet up the side of the barn hung a Screech Owl {Scops asid)y caught by one foot under a large batten partly sprung off from the building. It was frozen stiff, its eyes standing out white and ghastly with the expansion of the frost; and just above it, seemingly caught under the same batten, and frozen in like manner, was a common THE SCREECH OWL. 37 mouse; thus both had been turned into ice in the very act of the chase. This bird is abundant here throughout the year, but is more noticeable in winter, as it then approaches the barn and the out-buildings, probably in search of food and shelter. In late summer and early autumn it may be heard about the orchard or the edge of the wood; in the evening, uttering a soft whinny, not at all to be compared, however, to '■'■screech- ing.^' Thoreau, describing the sounds within hearing of his hut at Walden Lake, gives special prominence to the vocal per- formance of this bird. He says: " It is no honest and blunt tu- whit, tu-who of the poets, but, without jesting, a most solemn, graveyard ditty, the mutual consolations of suicide lovers remembering the pangs and the delights of supernal love in the infernal groves. Yet I love to hear their wailing, their doleful responses, trilled along the road-side, reminding me sometimes of music and singing birds: as if it were the dark and tearful side of music, the regrets and sighs that would feign be sung. They are the spirits, the low spirits and melancholy forebodings of fallen souls that once in human shape night-walked the earth and did the deeds of darkness, now expiating their sins with their wailing hymns or threnodies in the scenery of their transgressions. They give me a new sense of the variety and capacity of that nature which is our common dwelling. Oh-o-o-o-o that I never had been bor-r-r-r-r-n / sighs one on this side of the pond, and circles with the restlessness of despair to some new perch on the gray oaks. Then — that / never had been bor-r-r-r-n ! echoes another on the further side with tremu- lous sincerity, and bor-r-r-r-n! comes faintly from far in Lincoln woods." About nine inches long, with large ear-tufts, ash-gray above, with a lighter shade of the same beneath, all 88 THE SCREECH OWL. over mottled and streaked with black, the black streaks beneath again crossed with black and accompanied with reddish tints, white markings on the shoulders — sometimes the general ash-gray above mentioned being entirely re- placed by reddish; this bird can never be mistaken. H. D. Minot says: "The eggs are laid in the hollow of a tree, an apple-tree being frequently selected, in which are often placed a few simple materials, such as leaves or dried grass. The eggs, of which four are laid about the middle of April, average 1.36 x 1.20 of an inch, though occasionally speci- mens measure 1.60 x 1-30 of an inch. They are white, and nearly spherical." The almost round, white eggs, generally pure white and about equal at both ends, and with a fine surface, are characteristic of the Owls. Mr. W. Perham (at Tyngsboro, Mass.) often secures the nest of this species by fastening on trees in the woods " sections of hollow trunks, boarded up at the open ends, with entrance-holes cut in the sides," the bird appropriating these instead of natural cavities or deserted Woodpeckers* nests, " both as roosting and nesting places." As with the Owls in general, this species, when in the down, is pure w!iite. Being very small, excepting the bill and feet, it might be r.istaken for a little white Bantam Chicken. A pretty sight, indeed, is this snow-white brood of little creatures, in a hole of some old apple-tree, in the thick, shadowy part of the orchard, or in some partially decayed tree in the edge of a dense woods. On one of the last days of May (1880), I was surprised, while passing through the woods, by something which seemed to me at first sight a large bunch of gray wool on a limb some fifteen feet from the ground, but which, on closer examination, proved to be four young Screech Owls, nearly full-grown, well fledged, and sitting so closely to- THE ACADIAN OWL. 89 gather, and so perfectly still, as to require quite an effort to define them to the eye. They were a weird sight. The plumage was soft and downy, the color cold gray, thus refuting the theory that the red garb, in which this bird is- often found, is the immature dress. The same species seems> to be sometimes red, and sometimes gray, independent of age or sex. In the latter part of June, the same year, on entering the woods at late twilight, a bird flew at my head, uttering a hoarse, guttural scream, followed by a sharp snapping of the bill. It proved to be a Screech Owl, probably a parent bird, with young near by. Including a number of varieties, this Owl inhabits North America at large. ^, THE ACADIAN OWL. The Acadian Owl {Nyctale acadica) or Saw-whet, as it is sometimes called, from its peculiar, rasping note, sounding like the filing of a saw, is not infrequently found here; but is, apparently, not nearly so common as Scops asio. It must breed here, as it is resident, and I have seen the young taken in Orleans County. The male of this pigmy of its race averages some 7.26, length, some 19.r'^ in extent. The female is about an inch longer, and every vt 'larger in pro- portion. With head proportionately large, round, untufted, and facial disks complete, the adult is fine, clear brown above, scapulars and wing coverts marked with white, and an under-surface ring of the same around the back of the head; outside and inside web of primaries, and inside web of the secondaries, white-spottod; tail tipped with white, and having several cross-lines of spots of same; space around the bill generally, an 1 above and below the eye, white or yellowish-white; top of the head, auriculars and sides of neck streaked with white; and clear white arcs tm 40 THE WAX. WING. I f back of the ears; under parts white, broadly streaked with reddish-brown. Youngs more generally dark brov/n, un- spotted, with clear white forehead and eye-brows, and clear, light reddish-brown under parts. Slyly nesting in the hole of a tree, the nearly round, pure white eggs of this species are 1.22 X .96. They are laid in April, and the newly- hatched young are covered with a reddish down. This pigmy must have a good appetite, for, not long since, an individual was taken in N. J., the stomach of which " con- tained a whole Flying-squirrel." Habitat, North America; most common, perhaps, in the latitudes of New England and Nova Scotia. THE WAX-WING. ^ What a beautiful figure in the winter landscape is that mountain ash in the front yard! — only it is no ash at all, / THE WAX-WING, but a member of the Rose family. Symmetrical and grace- ful, its dark-brown colored spray, beautifully lelievci by the THE PINE LINNET. 41 great scarlet clusters of persistent fruit, it is a constant source of pleasure to the eye. But oh! see it now! fairly bending under the weight of an immen?:? flock of Wax-wings {Ampelis garrulus). The whole tree-top seems alive with their flutter- ing motion, as they keep up a soft but spirited chipper, half- way between a whisper and a whistle, and gobble up the berries with the gusto of extreme hunger. How beautiful they are! The form is fine, and it has an elegant crest; gen- eral color, a brownish drab, approaching ash-gray over the back, and chestnut around the base of the lofty crest, and around the margin of the deep black passing horizontally across the forehead across and above the eyes and forming a large patch on the throat; under tail coverts chestnut; wings and tail blackish, the latter shading most beautifully into dark ash toward the base; streak at the base of the lower mandible and one under the eye; tips of primary wing coverts and outer terminal web of the secondaries, white; the latter with waxen appendages on the quills; the prima- ries and the tail tipped with bright yellow, the former some- times edged across the end w^ith white. It is '7-8 inches long. The size and form of this species, its elegant shading of rich colors, and its bright and sharply-contrasted mark- ings fairly entitle it to its European epithet, "The Lovely Wax- wing! " This is an Arctic bird, both of the Old World { nd the New, and appears here irregularly in flocks in win- ter, sometimes moving southward to 35*^. Its nest and eggs, a few of which have been found in the northern part of this continent, are very similar to those of its near relative, the Cedar Bird, only a little larger. THE PINE LINNET. One of these cold days, as I was riding by a pasture well stocked with the remains of the thistle and golden-rod of 42 THE PINE LINNET. \\ !ii !i! the previous summer, I shot a solitary bird on a thistle^ which, in movement and appearance, reminded me of the Goldfinch. It proved, however, to. be its near relative, the Pine Linnet {Chrysomitris pinus)y the first of the kind I had ever identified. Like many birds, appearing plain in the distance, on a close examination it is found to be a thing of delicate beauty. The size and form of the Goldfinch, it differs much from it in ( .• . About 4.76 inches long, above it is narrowly streaked wul '-lack or dusky and yellowish flaxen, beneath with dusky and yellowish white; the rump yellow- ish; the bases of the black or dusky wing and tail feathers, bright, sulphury yellow, the same feathers being narrowly edged externally with yellowish; the yellow at the bases of wing and tail feathers being especially noticeable in flight. This bird ranges generally in flocks, and more or less irregularly throughout the United States in winter, and, as far as yet known, breeds from the latitude of Maine north- ward. It is sometimes in Western New. York already in flocks by the 4th of July. Dr. C. Hart Merriam, of Locust Grove, Lewis County, New York, writes concerning this species: "Few birds are more erratic in their habits than the Siskin or Pine Linnet. Occurring to-day, perhaps, in such numbers that one soon tires of shooting them, they are gone on the morrow, and years may ela;^se before one is seen again." Concerning 1878, he continues: "During the past winter and spring they literally swarmed in Lewis County, New York, and thousands of them bred throughout the heavy evergreen forests east of Black River, while many scattered pairs nested in suitable hemlock and balsam swamps in the mid- dle districts." Again he says of this region, and of Big Otter Lake in Herkimer County: "Never before at any locality have I seen a species of bird represented by such THE TREE SPARROW. 48 immense numbers of individuals as here attested the abund- ance of the Pine Finch. In every part of the forest, from early morning till after the sun had disappeared in the west, there was not a moment that their voices were not heard among the pines and spruce trees overhead." Already in April the young were found nearly fledged, and eggs were taken as early as the 18th of March. Dr. M. reports the nest as "a very bulky structure for so small a bird, and its rough exterior, loosely built of hemlock twigs, with a few sprigs of pigeon moss {polytrichuni) interspersed, is irregu- lar in outline, and measures about six inches in diameter. The interior, on the contrary, is compactly woven into a sort of felt, the chief ingredients of which are thistle-down and the fur and hair of various mammals." In spring it is said to sing very much like the Goldfinch, but in lower tones and more softly. Its conversational chipper is also very similar to that of its near relative. Its nest, said by Dr. Brewer to be " neat," made of " pine twigs " and "lined with hair;" contains pale-greenish eggs speckled with rusty, about .70 X .50. In flight, manner of alighting, and movements in obtain- ing food, this species very closely resembles the Goldfinch. In addition to the seeds of the thistle and those of the weeds in general, it appropriates as food the seeds obtained from the cones of the Pine family, climbing actively in the tops of the evergreens. THE TREE SPARROW. The same day I crept on a large flock of birds in a corn field. They proved to be Tree Sparrows {Spizella monticold)^ readily distinguished from others of the same family by their dark chestnut crown, and dark spot on a plain, ash- colored breast; the white cross-bars on the wing coverts also are generally quite conspicuous. 44 THE GOLDFINCH. Reaching us in October, this is one of our most abundant winter birds, generally in large flocks, extending nearly to the Gulf States, and returning northward in April and early in May. It "breeds north of the United States, to high latitudes, but also, like the Snow-bird, in mountains within our limits." (Cbues.) Its eggs are said to be much like those of the Song Sparrow, and its nest indifferently on the ground, in a bush, or in a tree. So gentle and unsuspecting is this bird, that it will even pick up the crumbs around the door in winter, though it generally affects the field, the pasture, the thicket, or the orchard; and if seems to sing almost throughout the year. In the latter pax c oi March, or during the month of April, when the Song Sparrow is giving us his earliest and most ringing notes, from the thickets and from the ground you may hear the soft, sweet notes of this species, as a sort of undertoned accompaniment — Whee-he-ho-he-whee-he-he-he-hej the first four notes drawn out, and the rest uttered some- what rapidly. In mild days of November whole flocks may be heard warbling almost as sweetly as in spring, and in the midst of the cold of winter, their notes are often much more like a warble than a mere twitter, a whole flock becoming thoroughly musical. In the soft sweetness of its song, its general habit and migration, it is very much like the Dark Snow-bird, and, like it is not common west of the Rocky Mountains. THE GOLDFINCH. We have had several sunny days, and our heavy fall of snow has settled to a stratum of six or eight inches. I am leisurely strolling through a thicket, on a bright afternoon, on the sunny side of a large woods. I find Chickadees, in familiar little parties, happy as the sunshine. A small flock of Tree Sparrows has also flown overhead, and lighted in THE GOLDFINCH. 45 a pasture near by. But the most nui^ierous and spirited company I meet is a party of Goldfinches {Chrysotnitris tristis). After caroling and whirling, high in air, they have alighted within a short gun-shot. Excepting the Wrens, this is decidedly the most animated bird of my acquaintance. Every particle of his being seems inspirited with life. A rare thing, indeed, it is to catch him in a state of rest. When taking food, he seems to go through all the motions possible, now reaching upward, now downward, now side- wise, and now hanging by the feet. In flight he takes long, bounding curves, showing an elasticity of stroke altogether uncommon; and to make that flight still more animated, frequently utters his strongly e^nphasized ditty — "/V(r cheated ye^ I've cheated ye" On lighting in a tree, he is in a perfect state of excitement, beckoning, chattering and call- ing, as if seeking to attract universal attention, giving one the impression that there is a host of other birds within hailing distance. Indeed, he never seems alone. When he sings, he seems so brimful of his song, and in such haste to deliver it, that he cannot articulate distinctly, but runs one note into another, and breaks others off so abruptly that, notwithstanding its pleasing vivacity, it often appears quite incomplete. Not infrequently a considerable flock will all sing at once, thus making a noisy chorus. In the case of birds, as in the case of men, we should not confound song with conversation. In respect to the latter, the Goldfinch has a great variety of notes, which it is about impossib' ^^ to describe in full. Tid-tid-di-die^ tse-hee-tseiy tee-hee, in addi- tion to his familiar ditty when in flight, are sounds quite common to him. Whether we contemplate him in voice or in action, the sentiment ever expressed by him is that of joy, so that he is properly spoken of as the happy Gold- finch. This is particularly a seed-eater, and, like the rest of Ji: \i\ I 49 THE GOLDFINCH. his family, the Fringiliiday which includes the Sparrows and their relatives, he has a short, thick bill, with which to shell the seeds. In common with the rest of our winter birds, he does no small service in keeping down the weeds. In plac- ing the Goldfinch on the thistle, Audubon rendered his portrait true to nature. He is found there more frequently than on any other plant. How often we see him leading out his young family to dine on the seeds of this very common and troublesome weed ! Hence he is sometimes called the Thistle-bird. This natural inclination to aid the farmer in his struggle with noxious plants should especially commend our sprightly little friend, as well as his whole family con- nection, to the kindly consideration of the farmer. Besides, do not the trim form, bright colors, graceful and spirited movements, and cheerful, happy voice of this species, con- tribute constantly to the innocent pleasures of the out-door laborer ? Is he not the true messenger of a boundless joy for man as well as for the birds ? The winter dress of our bird has nothing attractive. Audubon has described it well and in few words: "Brown- ish-olive above, without black on the head; foreneck and breast grayish-yellow, the rest of the lower parts grayish- white." But this is not the color of the female in summer. Lacking the bright lemon-yellow, black crown, black wings and tail marked with white, which constitute the vernal habit of the male — in her plain suit of green, with dusky wings and tail, and shading into yellow underneath — she is truly beautiful, as she flits by the side of her gay consort. Have you ever seen the two take each other by the bill and delicately caress each other under the brow of some hill on a beautiful spring day ? In its time of nesting this bird is quite unaccountable. Though the male has put on his gay attire, long before the t! THE GOLDFINCH. 47* spring is robed in splendor, and has chosen his mate quite as soon as other birds, not until July is there the slightest indication of domestic cares. Then you no longer see them in large, noisy parties, but each couple has found a quiet nook, and become as steady as any other pair of birds. Quite commonly the site chosen is in the orchard, some- times in the top of a tall shade-tree which stretches its boughs over the house-roof, often in the thicket which bor- ders the forest, and not infrequently in a cosy clump of elders. In the latter kind of place, late in July, was found a very gem of a nest, now before me. True to the favorite plant, it is mostly composed of thistle-down, interlaced and wound into position by fine shreds of the bark of the grape- vine and bass-woods, all of which materials give it a some- what bulky, but neat, gray appearance, beautifully in har- mony wi*h the branch on which it is saddled. This nest is finished alike within and without, and even on the under side. It is not merely built on the limb, but neatly finished around it. Evidently it was not constructed in a hurry. The bottom, sides, and rim are thick, and firm, and finely felted together. The inside is an elegant bed of white, silky down. In every respect it is perfect. But oh, the eggs! What gems they are! Some half-dozen, the size of a Wren's egg, .65 X .61, clear white, tinged with green, they render the nest perfect in beauty. Many a time has the sight of it thrilled me with pleasure, and never more than to-night, as I review all its beauties for an accurate description, and recall the many kindnesses of the dear friend who compli- mented my tastes in saving it for me. Like some others of the smaller birds, the Goldfinch sits only about a week. It ranges through North America generally, breeding as far south as Kentucky. m 48 T//£ RUFFED GROUSE. THE RUFFED GROUSE. One of my townsmen has just brought a pair of beautiful Ruffed Grouse {Bonasa umbella), male and female, and wishes them mounted. He has described the attitudes he prefers; the male, "as if he was just goin' to fly," and the female, "as if she was harkin'." I will try to comply with the request. These birds remind me of an incident of a few years ago.- One of my most esteemed parishioners, on going out into his door-yard at break of day, early in November, found a beautiful male of the Ruffed Grouse promenading about like a domestic fowl. On attempting to fly over the bam it struck the ridge of the roof and fell dead on the other side. He brought it to me, and, on dissection, its breast proved to be completely bruised. In more super- stitious times this might have been regarded as an evil omen, for a few months afterwards this same man was instantaneously killed. These birds before me are specially characteristic of Eastern North America, and have a history, which cannot fail to interest the lover of nature. The man who procured them might well be impressed with their movements and attitudes, for they are every way marked and pleasing. "On the ground," says Audubon, "where the Ruffed Grouse spends a large portion of its time, its motions are peculiarly graceful. It walks with an elevated, firm step, opening its beautiful tail gently and with a well-marked jet, holding erect its head, the feathers of which are fre- quently raised, as are the velvety tufts of its neck. It poises its body on one foot for several seconds at a time, and utters a soft cluck, which in itself implies a degree of confidence in the bird that its tout ensemble is deserving of the notice of any bystander. Should the bird discover that it is observed, its step immediately changes to a rapid run, its head is THE RUFFED GROUSE. 49 lowered, its tail is more widely spread, and, if no convenient hiding place is at hand, it immediately takes flight with as much of the whirring sound as it can produce, as if to prove to the observer that, when on the wing, it cares as little about him as the deer pretends to do when, on being started by the hound, he makes several lofty bounds, and erects his tail to the breeze." Who that lives in his vicinity has not heard the " drum- ming " of the male in the breeding season ? Although it is quite possible that he may not have seen the bird in the act, for that is the privilege of but few. Mr. John Burroughs says: "The male bird selects, not as you would predict, a dry and resinous log, but a decayed and crumbling one, seeming to give the preference to old oak logs that are par- tially blended with the soil. If a log to his taste cannot be found, he sets up his altar on a rock, which becomes resonant beneath his fervent blows. Who has seen the Partridge drum? It is the next thing to catching a weasel asleep, though by much caution and tact it may be done. He does not hug the log, but stands very erect, expands his ruff, gives two introductory blows, pauses half a second, and then resumes, striking faster and faster, till the sound becomes a continuous unbroken whir, the whole lasting less than half a minute. The tips of his wings barely brush the log, so that the sound is produced rather by the force of ri"; blows upon the air and upon his own body as in flying. One log will be used for many years, though not by the same dcum- mer. It seems to be a sort of temple, and held in great respect. The bird always approaches on foot, and leaves it in the same quiet manner, unless rudely disturbed. He is very cunning, though his wit is not profound. It is difficult to approach him by stealth; you try many times before suc- ceeding; but seem to pass by him in a great hurry, making 4 00 THE RUFFED GROUSE. all the noise possible, and with plumage furled he stands as immovable as a knot, allowing you a good view and a good shot, if you are a sportsman." Audubon says: "The female, which never drums, flies directly to the place where the male is thus engaged, and, on approaching him, opens her wings before him, balances her body to the right and left, and then receives his caresses." Whether the drumming is produced by striking the wings against the body, by striking the wings together behind the back, or by simply beating the air, has been a much debated question. Probably the latter is the true explanation. Nor is it merely the call of the male to the female in the breed- ing season, since it is indulged in at other times of the year, but is also, as Nuttall has said, " an instinctive expression of hilarity and vigor." Behold the male strutting before the female in time of courtship! The first time I saw him in this act I was utterly at a loss to identify him. The ruff about the neck is per- fectly erect, so that the head is almost disguised; the wings are partially opened, and droop gracefully; the feathers gen- erally are elevated; the tail, with its rich, black band, is spread to the utmost and thrown forward. Thus he stands nearly motionless, a genuine object of beauty The flight of the Partridge is straight forward, vigorous and heavy for about half the distance, after which it simply sails, and that most gracefully, almost ethereally, to the place of lighting. Thus the last part of its flight is strik- ingly in contrast with the first. The whirring strokes of the Partridge when put up is? not, in all probability, its ordinary mode of flight, but only the result of its surprise. The best of observers affirm that, when rising of its own accord, its flight is as noiseless as that of other birds. Its habit of shooting for some distance through the loose snow, THE RUFFED GROUSE, 61 in the course of its flight, and of sitting still and allowing itself to be snowed over, and then starting out, as by a sud- den explosion, on some surprise, have been attested by several writers of the best authority. Audubon used to attract the Ruffed Grouse " by beating a large inflated bullock's bladder with a stick, keeping up as much as possible the same time as that in which the bird beats." "At the sound produced by the bladder and the stick," he says, "the male Grouse, inflamed with jealousy, has flown directly towards me, when, being prepared, I have easily shot it." There are many birds which may be decoyed by a faithful imitation of their notes. The nest of this beautiful bird is associated with my recol- lections of childhood. I can see it still, a slight bed of leaves, on the ground, under a fallen tree, in the wild meadow. How the gentle wild hen would sit, till we chil- dren came near enough to touch her, sometimes making our calls without causing the least disturbance. The eggs, about a dozen in number, and near the size of those of a pullet, some 1.66 x 1-15, are brownish-white, often neatly spotted and specked with brown. Well do I remember, too, the stories in vogue among my playmates, as to the cunning tricks of the younglings — how they would scamper and hide on being found, turning over on their backs and pulling dried leaves over them for concealment; all of which I believed then, but long since have come to doubt. It is not the perjection of the concealment which I have come to doubt, for that is beyond question, but the manner of that concealment. The truth is their color is so much like that of the dry leaves, and they are either so motionless or so completely tucked away, that the eye cannot detect them. The tender, downy little creatures! who could harm them if he did find them! I once came upon a large brood just 63 THE RUFFED GROUSE. ' !( hatched, and succeeded in catching some half-dozen; but how could I withstand the distress of the mother-bird as she tossed and tumbled over find over, moaning and cluck- ing, sometimes near enough to be touched by the hand ! Like Audubon, when he emptied the young Mallards from his game-bag, I was completely overcome by the demon- stration of maternal anguish. But the most affecting of all was to hear the tender cluck- ing call of the mother, and the soft peeping reply of the flock of little ones, as soon as I was out of sight. To this moment I am hoping that she succeeded in getting all her young family safely together, after so rude a dispersion- Berries of all kinds, as well as seeds, are the food of this species; and when these are scarce, even leaves and buds will do, and especially the catkins of the alder. The Partridge, in its several varieties, pretty nearly covers North America, our variety occupying Canada and the Eastern United States into the mountains of the Carolinas. About the size of a common fowl, with a graceful crest and fan-shaped tail, the general color is a beautiful brown, vari- ously mottled and clouded with light and dark; and it is readily distinguished by its bunch of glossy black plumes on each shoulder, and its broad band of black across the end of the lail. CHAPTER III. OPEN WINTER. THE frost and snow of early winter have softened, ere the middle of the season, into such mild days, fields so green and skies so tender, that one almost imagines himself in some southern clime. Rain falls as easily as in April, and the air is laden with a genial vapor, which almost threatens to bring out the buds. What happy moments were those this morning, as I sat in my study, by the large window facing the east, and watched the coming of the morning! It was announced by a delicate, rosy tint, stretching like a band along the horizon — a fringe, where the deep blue touched the darkened landscape. Anon, the lambent flame pervades th-* whole chamber of the east, transfiguring space itself, and strikingly in contrast with the clouds in the foreground — still sable under the shadows of retreating night. Now these dark clouds them- selves have caught the glow, and are soon turned into amber and gold, ihe rosy flames rise higher and higher, till they touch the zenith; and now a broad band of rich, transparent green unrolls along the horizon, and the whole heaven is aglow with the glory of the coming day. THE QUAIL. I must out, and away to the woods! Passing through a large peach-orchard, just before entering a beautiful, park- ( V ' 54 THE OUAIL. like forest, I put up a small flock of Quails, "^hcy are now a rarity in Orleans County, New York, so much so that laws have been passed in this and adjoining counties giving them special protection throughout the year. But who could wantonly injure a Quail? This is surely the nost winning game-bird in our land. Who can blame certain tender- hearted little children, who will not accept any -»logy whatever, for taking the life of one of them ? The flight of the Quail on being startled is quite like that of the Partridge, except that it does not generally fly so far. The surprise to the observer, however, is greater, since the Quail is often in quite considerable flocks, whereas the Partridge is much less gregarious. Take your first chance for a shot at a flock of Quails, for, after the first putting up, they are scattered and very shy. Having flown in every direction, they en- sconce themselves away so perfectly that they are not to be seen, till one by one they fly up, almost from under foot; or, if the whole flock start, it will be from many different points in the vicinity, and so they will afford no shot, except singly. The following citation from Audubon is so well worded, and so in accord with the facts, that I shall adopt it ver- batim: " When an enemy is perceived they immediately utter a lisping note, frequently repeated, and run off, with their tail spread, their crest erected, and their wings drooping, towards the shelter of some thicket or the top of a fallen tree. At other times, when one of the flock has accidentally strayed to a distance from its companions, it utters two noces louder than any of those mentioned above, the first shorter and lower than the second, when an answer is immediately returned by one of the pack. This species has, moreover, a love-call, which is louder and clearer than its other notes, and can be heard at a distance of several hundred yards. It THE QUAIL. 56 consists of three distinct notes, the two last being loudest, and is peculiar to the bird. A fancied similarity to the words Bob White renders this call famUiar to the sportsman and farmer; but these notes are always preceded by another, easily heard at a distance of thirty or forty yards. The three together resemble the words ah Bob White. The first note is a kind of aspiration, and the last is very loud and clear. This whistle is seldom heard after the breeding season,* during which an imitation of the peculiar note of the female will make the male fly towards the sportsman, who may then easily shoot it. " In the Middle Districts the love-call of the male is heard about the middle of April, and in Louisiana much earlier. The male is seen perched on a fence-stake, or on the low branch of a tree, standing nearly in the same position for hours together, and calling ah Bob White at every interval of a few minutes. Should he hear the note of a female, he sails directly towards the spot whence it proceeded. Several males may be heard from different parts of a field challeng- ing each other, and should they meet on the ground, they fight with great courage and obstinacy, until the conqueror drives off his antagonist to another field. " The female prepares a nest composed of grasses, arranged in a circular form, leaving an entrance not unlike that of a common oven. It is placed at the foot of a tuft of rank grass or some close stalks of corn, and is partly sunk in the ground. The eggs, 10-15, rather sharp at the smaller end, are white. The male at times assists in hatching them. This species raises only one brood in the year, unless the eggs or the young when yet small have been destroyed. When this happens the female immediately prepares another nest; and should it also be ravaged, sometimes even a third. The * I have heard this same ditty occasionally in the pleasant days of autumn. '■%\ 56 THE QUAIL. young run about the moment after they make their appear- ance, and follow their parents until spring, when, having acquired their full beauty, they pair and breed. "The Partridge (Quail) rests at night on the ground, either amongst the grass or under a bent leg. The indi- viduals which compose the flock form a ring, and moving backwards, approach each other until their bodies are nearly in contact. This arrangement enables the whole covey to take wing when suddenly alarmed, each flying off in a direct course, so as not to interfere with the rest." A straw-stack in the field in v/inter is a great attraction to the Quail. Here flocks may be seen gleaning the stray ker- nels of grain; and nowhere do their graceful movements and quiet ways appear more winning. If unmolested and treated with a little kindly consideration, they will come even to the barn-yard and share the fare of the domestic fowl. Being unsuspecting, and a bird of the fields, the pasture and the orchard, it is the victim of many modes of capture. Moving often in close flocks, many may be taken at a single shot; a figfure-four trap may take a number at a time. In this way a lad of my acquaintance once took thirteen, feed- ing them under the trap, and taking them out as they were needed for the table. Audubon describes a method of driving them into a net in large numbers. The predominant color of the Quail is a bright reddish- brown, occasionally streaked with black, and again shading into a beautiful gray, white beneath, crossed with zigzag lines of black; throat of the female brownish-yellow, and that of the male white. Smaller than a common bantam hen, it cannot be mistaken in Eastern North America. It ranges throughout the Eastern United States to a little north of Massachusetts, and into Canada West and Minne- THE NORTHERN SHRIKE. 67 sota. Like others of its order, it is particularly a seed and grain-eating bird. The Partridge and the Quail belong to the Gallinaceous or Poultry order of birds, so named because it includes our common domestic fowl. They are for the most part a strongly marked order. The vaulted upper mandible, with its nostrils at the base and "covered by a cartilaginous scale;" the short, rounded wings; the breast-bone, with two such deep emarginations on each side, and the keel so cut away in front as to reduce it to a mere open frame; the heavy flight; the simplicity of the lower larynx; the muscular gizzard and large crop — are all points of differentiation which cannot easily be mistaken. They incubate on the ground, having a simple nest and a large number of eggs. THE NORTHERN SHRIKE. A little to my right is a large buttonwood tree, making a marked and beautiful contrast with the rest of the landscape, for in this tree there is no brown whatever, the trunk and main limbs shaling off almost to a pure white, and the spray being nearly black. To an ornithologist a tree is never complete without a bird. So I strain my eyes to detect something of the kind in the thick branches, and am not disappointed. In the thickest part of the top, sitting almost motionless, is a Northern Shrike or Butcher Bird {Zam'us borealis). Not far from the size of a Robin, 9-10 inches long, but with a much larger head and thicker neck, and a longer tail, its color is an olivaceous drab, with black patches from the base of the bill back across the eyes and down the sides of the neck; wings and tail black with white markings; under- neath white, with cross-pencilings of black. But this color- ation varies greatly in different individuals, the white some- 58 THE NORTHERN SHRIKE. times being very dull, the black quite brownish, or, if both these are quite clear, the drab may be clear and bright, con- taining nothing of the olivaceous. This bird is an inch longer than its cousin, the White-rumped Shrike, the latter being a very common summer resident here, while the former generally spends only the milder or early part of the winter with us;* and all the noise we ever hear from it in that time is a hoarse scream, reminding one a little of a Hawk. Generally it is solitary, but sometimes it is accom- panied by a mate. It must pass the colder part of the win- ter a little farther south, but is back again on its way north early in spring. It is reported as spending the entire winter in the vicinity of Mauch Chunk, Pennsylvania, and as making its winter trips as far south as 35*. A few days since, while spending some hours with one of the farmers of my parish, I had a good opportunity to note certain habits of this bird. My friend was drawing in corn- stalks from the field. Several of these Shrikes, perched in small trees scattered in the immediate vicinity, seemed bound to keep him company. Occasionally one would fly out a short distance from his perch, and hover in quest of prey, precisely in the manner of the Sparrow Hawk {Falco spar- verius). Not infrequently a mouse would start out on remov- ing a shock, when it was instantly gobbled up by the familiar, sharp-eyed bird. On removing one shock, a nest of full-grown rats was disturbed, some of which escaped the farmer's boot-heel and fork-tines. Presently I heard a loud squeaking in a corner of the fence near by. On hurrying to the spot, I found a Shrike, regp.ling itself on one of the young rats, and so intent on its meal that, though I was almost near enough to put my hand on it, it eyed '* If it be very mild and open, the Great Northern Shrike may remain in Western New York throughout the winter. The Loggerhead is a southern species of which the White- rump is a variety. THE NORTHERN SHRIKE, 59 me hesitatingly for some time before concluding to leave. In structure, as well as in habit, this bird is quite peculiar. Its bill is not a little like that of a Hawk, while its feet and claws, as well as its general figure, are very much like those of certain birds of song; consequently, with much of the bird of prey in its manner, it is still ranked, in point of structure, between the Vireos and the Finches. It will attack a Sparrow, peck out its brain, lug it around in its beak, and make a meal of it at its leisure, as readily as any of the Raptores, while in feeding it is in general as truly insectiv- orous as that of the most innocent song-bird. Indeed, its destruction of insect-life is altogether uncommon. It does not merely consume them as food, but has a certain bar- barous habit of impaling them in large numbers on thorns, and that for no other purpose than mere wantonness, as it is never knov. n to appropriate them afterward as food. It will sit by the hour in the presence of its struggling victims, and seem utterly indifferent to their tortures. The common European Shrike is represented as impaling small birds on thorns in a similar manner. Wilson says: "It retires to the north, and to the higher inland parts of the country to breed. It frequents the deep- est forests; builds a large and compact nest in the upright fork of a small tree, composed outwardly of dry grass, and whitish moss, and warmly lined within with feathers. The female lays six eggs, of a pale cinerous color, thickly marked at the greater end with spots and streaks of rufous. She sits fifteen days. The young are brought out early in June, sometimes towards the end of May, and during the greater part of the first season are of a brown ferruginous color on the back." i'.' fill ill ir y 'i; ■!i| ii'i 60 THE CHOW. THE CROW. The most noticeable bird of our winter landscape is the Common Crow. Neither cold nor snow can drive him away, while, in mild open weather, he scorns the woods and fields, and rises high in air against the passing breeze, as if he were sole lord of the entire region. He is hardly ever alone, and often appears in quite considerable flocks, some- times in large numbers. To-day he is stepping about the plowed fields and meadows with all his wonted stateliness. What a splendid coat of glossy black he wears! He appears quite as well on the wing, too, as on the ground, moving with a steady, graceful energy, even in the raggedness of his moulting period, when the loss of main pinions is seen in the formidable gaps of either wing. Even his voice, though very much lacking in compass and far from being really musical, has a vigor and a significance amidst nature's sounds, which is far from being unpleasing. In short, we could easily be rcv^onciied to him, aye, even pleased with him, were it not for certain of his thievish and cruel habits of diet. Firstly. He is the arch-disturber of the corn-fields. How the farmer is obliged to tax his ingenuity in order to secure himself, in part at least, against his depredations! In that delightful book by Susan Fenimore Cooper, entitled "Rural Hours," is a little paragraph well illustrating the husbandman's resources in this respect. In her diary for the 4th of June she says: "The cornfields are now well garnished with Scare-crows, and it is amusing to see the different devices employed for the purpose. Bits of tin hung upon upright sticks are very general; lines of white twine, crossing the field at intervals near the soil, are also much in favor, and the Crows are said to be particularly shy of this sort of network; other fields are guarded by a num- THE CROW, 61 ber of little whirligig wind-mills. One large field that we passed evidently belonged to a man of great resources in the way of expedients; for, among a number of contri- vances, no two were alike; in one spot, large as life, stood the usual man of straw ; here was a tin pan on a pole, there a sheet was flapping its full breadth in the breeze, here was a straw hat on a stick, there an old flail ; in one corner a broken tin Dutch oven glittered in the sunshine, and at right angles with it was a tambourine! It must needs be a bold Crow that will venture to attack such a camp." Then she adds in a foot-note: "This field yielded ninety-three bushels of maize to the acre the following autumn." The second charge to be brought against the Crow is the destruction of other birds' nests. Never shall I forget the unhappy impression he made upon me many years ago in Nova Scotia, on my first discovery of the Snowbird's {/unco) nest containing young just hatched. The nest was under the bottom rail of a fence, and on approaching it the second time I discovered a Crow in the act of gulping down the last of the young. Never was my indignation over a bird greater, except when, in my childhood, a large Hawk carried off my black chicken. " The most remarka- ble feat of the Crow." says Audubon, " is the nicety with which it, like the Jay, pierces an egg with its bill, in order to carry it off, and eat it with security. In this manner I have seen it steal, one after another, all the eggs of a wild Turkey's nest." " In spring," says Wilson, "when he makes his appearance among the groves and low thickets, all the feathered songsters are instantly alarmed, well knowing the depredations and murders he commits on their nests, eggs, and young." But, as in the case of many other transgressors, there are some weighty things to be said in his favor. In the same ff\ 62 THE CROW, field from which he steals the corn, he destroys many noxious worms and insects, especially cut- worms; not to speak of the snakes, moles and mice, whose career is cut short by him. Besides, to the unprejudiced lover of nature, his presence adds beauty and character to the landscape. Between the good services and the mischief done by the Crow, Wilson, Audubon, and most other ornithologists, have found a large balance in his favor, while some, as Samuels, for instance, are well convinced that his depre- dations on crops, and more especially his destruction of the nests and young of the smaller and more useful birds, can- hot be compensated by any good and useful office which it is possible for him to fill. The latter view is the one more in harmony with the sentiment of the common people; hence, in various times and places, premiums have been offered for his head, as in the case of the more destructive beasts of prey. In consequence of this, the number destroyed in a single State in a season has been as high as 40,000; and Wilson tells us that, during a winter of ** long-continued, deep snow, more than six hundre ' Crows were shot on the carcass of a dead horse, which was placed at a proper dis- tance from the stable, from a hole of which the discharges were made. The premiums awarded for these, with the price paid for the quills, produced nearly as much as the original value of the horse, besides, as the man himself assured me, saving feathers sufficient for filling a bed." But whatever the public sentiment may be, no bird is " better able to' take care of itself than the Crow. Go into the field or forest, and steal a shot at it if you can! Under all ordinary circumstances, its keen eye and vigilant caution are a full match for its enemies. I do not see how Wilson's school-boy ever secured for him a basket of Crows. If one of my young friends shoots one over the carcass of a dead THE CROW. 68 sheep, pointing his gun through a loop-hole in the barn — and that did happen once — I consider that he does well. Though not a few of the Crows remain here over winter; many more appear to go south, where they congregate in immense flocks, and are very destructive. The uiiffrequented evergreen woods of Goat Island at Niagara Falls, in winter, and the steep, forest-clad slopes of the inaccessible gorge from the Falls to Queenstown Heights, throughout the year, are famous roosting places for the Crows. Here they may be seen at night-fall in almost countless numbers, streaming in in long processions from all the region round about. The Crow's ordinary note, khrah, khrah, khrah^ with a strong, guttural sound before the vowel, is familiar to every one. In the month of April, in New York, when the males are winning the females, the former will perch on some limb of a tall tree in the forest, and bowing most obsequiously, will utter in a low, deep tone the syllables, Chow-ow-ow-mv, chow-ow-mv-ow. In respect to diet this species may be called omnivorous; stripping the sour cherry-tree of its abundant crop, stealing a chicken, lighting on the backs of cattle to devour the larvae of the gad-fly under their skin, or regaling, in vast numbers, on offensive carrion, as readily as it would feast on insects and corn. The Crow is a most annoying enemy of the Hawks and the Owls. As kingly a bird as the Red-tailed Hawk, can find no peace in his presence. Driven from his lordly perch among tall trees, I have seen him condescend to alight among the tall grass of the meadow, as if to hide himself away from persecution; but here the Crows would dive into his face, and, with the most persistent impudence, com- pel him to take shelter in some distant wood. fell ...irt W' 64 THE CROW. One day last April, while lying under a bush by a stream, and in the edge of a forest, in watch of ducks, I was startled by a stentorious demonstration near by among the Crows. Looking up I saw an immense tree-top literally black with them. The object of their indignation, to which every head was turned, was a Great Horned Owl, which sat staring and blinking in the middle of tht tree. Evidently their bowing in concert with raised wings, and cawing enough to tear their throats, were anything but agreeable to him. The roar might have been heard a mile or more away, as each poured forth his volume of charges against this goggling, glimmer- ing Ni^ht-watch. Presently, several dashed at him with wide-spread wings, when he rose and beat away through the tree-tops, followed by the long and deafening train of black persecutors. Alighting low" down among the hem- locks, he was as bitterly attacked as before; and though he moved thus several times, until he was more than a mile away, I could still hear the same noisy demonstrations of bitter and persistent ill-will. The nest, which is well hidden in the forest, and made early in spring, is composed of sticks, interwoven and lined with grasses, and sometimes with considerable horse-hair and other soft materials, there being almost invariably some dark mould in the bottom, perhaps to keep it cool. It is generally placed pretty well up in a tree, and coitains from four to six eggs, of a light green, spotted and blotched with blackish brown, and about the size of a small hen's egp:. some 1.70 X 1.20. On Manitoulin Island and in the vicin I found the Crow's nests in immense numbers. Indeed, th were much more common than the nest of any other bird. Can the Crow learn to talk? To this I have but one authoritative answer. A very intelligent and estimable lady, the daughter of a frontier missionary in the early THE CROW, 05 days of Kansas, tells me that she has heard a Crow talk. An Indian used to visit the mission station, bringing with him one of these birds tamed, with the tongue split, and able to mimic distinctly quite a number of words, as also to originate little sentences of his own. During one of these Indian visits, a patch of land connected with the station was being plowed. The Crow, with his bright red ribbon tied around him and trailing on the ground, was busy picking up the insects, when our lady, then a little girl, along with her sisters, was trying to catch the ends of ribbon. Just as their tiny hands were about to grasp them, the wily Crow would spring forward, thus eluding their grasp, and looking back would tauntingly say, "You didn't, did you?" Well done for a Crow ! At Pittsburgh, Audubon once saw a pair of Crows per- fectly white. Also a trusty parishioner of mine testifies that some years since he was accustomed, for some time, to see a pure white Crow leading the flock from one block of woods on his farm to another. The home of our Crow is throughout temperate North America to 55*^, excepting the central plains and southern Rocky Mountains. CHAPTER IV. BELOW ZERO. SUDDEN changes are common to this climate. Immedi- ately following our open winter weather comes a fall of temperature below zero, with just snow enough on a smooth- worn, hard-frozen road to make the sleighs slip easily. The snow crunches under foot, and, what is rather uncom- mon here, the trees and buildings resound with a strange snapping, almost equal to the report of a pistol, as if the nails in the buildings were springing out and the trunks of the trees were bursting asunder — sounds very mysterious to me in my childhood, but now understood to be caused by an expansion, on the freezing of water contained in the crevices of the trees or in the little exposed cavities of buildings. THE SNOWY OWL. There is something peculiarly exhilarating in this kind of weather. Everybody moves as if in a hurry; and, notwith- standing the cold, one discovers a strong inclination to be out. I am once more on my way to the favorite woods beyond the peach orchard, gun in hand. As I move briskly along that part of the orchard bordering on the forest, I put up a large bird, almost as white as the snow itself. The spread of its wings and tail is immense, and its flight is so noiseless and dignified that one might almost think it some living spiritual impersonation of winter. I take aim, and THE SNOWY OWL. 67 down it tumbles headforemost into the snow. But it is only- winged; so, taking it by the wings stretched over the back, I carry it home to surprise the family. That it is a female is to be inferred from its great size and from its more numerous dark markings; the male of this species being sometimes so free of the dark spots as to appear pure white, and the greater size of the female being peculiar to birds of prey. Little children are apt naturalists, and have many questions to ask on an occasion like . this, so I use my bird for an object-lesson. I call their attention to the large head, peculiar to the Owls among birds; and, turning the round, weird, half-human face fully before them, call their attention to the large eyes fairly in front, while the eyes of other birds are on the sides of the head; point to the circle of fringed feathers around the eyes, part of which nearly covers the bill, and part of which laps over the immense ear-hole; and note the eye-lashes, so strange among birds This large, round, cat-like face, having also an almost human aspect, is at once the weirdest and the most highly sensitive. It is all eye and ear, stealthily confronting every sound that may break the stillness of the night, and every object that may loom up in the gloaming or the darkness. " Do you see how the outer web of the outer wing-feathers or primaries is recurved, as if it had been firmly brushed backwards?" I asked my little girl. "What's that for?" she inquired curiously. ** So that it can fly without making any noise," I replied; "that arrangement of the outer web, as also the general softness ard looseness of the plumage, muffles the stroke of the wing, and enables the bird to steal upon its prey in the still hours of the night without alarm- ing it. All the Owls, being night-birds of prey, have tills modification of the wing." " O-o-o-o-oh! see that hole in ^< J " ill: 68 THE SNOWY OWL. his face!" exclaimed my little boy, as I raised those long, loose feathers, arranged in the manner of a disk on the cheek of this bird. " That is his ear," I said; "all Owls have their ears in their cheeks," " That's a wonderfully big ear, I think; what does he have it covered up for?" he queried. *' That is the fashion with birds; they generally have their ears covered," I replied. " Should think he'd want to have such a hole in his face covered," he continued. " He's got his face well wrapped up," said my little girl, as I parted the thick mass of feathers covering the face and the black bill almost to the very tip. " Should n't think his feet 'ud get cold either with such stockings. I wish he'd let me have 'em for my dolly this cold weather!" This bird is, indeed, most wonderfully protected againt the cold. Not only are the feet and legs so thickly covered with a long, dense, hair-like plumage, that the great, black claws are almost concealed, but the entire plumage of the body beneath the surface is of the most downy and elastic kind, and so thickly matted together that it is almost proof against the smaller kind of ammunition. " Wish I had some of them for my doll's hat ! " continued the little girl, as I plucked off a few of the ostrich-like plumes from the lower part of the body. Wilson notes a peculiarity of the eye of this bird, and of the Owls generally. He says: "The globe of the eye is immovably fixed in its socket by a strong, elastic, hard^ cartilaginous case, in form of a truncated cone; this case, being closely covered with a skin, appears, at first, to be of one continued piece; but, on removing the exterior mem- brane, it is found to be formed of fifteen pieces, placed like the staves of a cask, overlapping a little at the base or nar- row end, and seems as if capable of being enlarged or con- tracted, perhaps by the muscular membrane with which ''"HE SNOWY OH-L. they are encased. « « « _ ** these birds, as they view Hiff *^* ''*'"« ">"« fi«d, Obliged to tu™ the head and °''^^"'' ^^"^ ''-"y adapted their neck to t^' pCHt™ j"- » -eiientfy turn .t round, without moving The boH ^^ '""' '"'"' *a«, Plete circle."* ^ ** ''°<'y, in almost a com- The Snowy Owl is a bird of the Ar.,- 'n the extreme north of both cl„! "^^°'^^- ^""""O" amidst ice and snow Iw ™"'' " '^ "erathome reguiarly into the New ESdl^^H";"'"''^'' '" *'"'-, casually even to the extrlm So„I \ ^"""^ "'«-■ and cording to the best authoruL " ^ " "' "'"""'"^^ ="=- and probably even i„ the'to^: rM^e T' ^""^^^^ *"" " "ay rarely breed here- for „ . *" "°' «"« "".two were seen i„ the v'ic n L „ ? ". "' '* °' "^y- o' wh,ch was shot and brough To L^ «"" ''^ ^^ ""^ The nest is said to be on th! " ""' old male, ""-e or four white egLmear""'' '" "'""^'' -« 'aid Jength by 2 in breadth " Mr p^r""^ '"""" '^ '"ch" in Factory, Hudson's Bay, it goes Ch'"' ""'' *« « ^"^^ . According to Wilson, "!he usua^ f" T"""' ■' ^aid to be hares, ^ouse r»hK / °' *•"" ^P«ies -en carrion. Unliic m~' i f , k'' '"'''' ""^'=' and -11 as by twiiight, and is pa„ ,:"'^' ''"T "' "'^ « the shores and banlts of shaHnw '^ "^ "^ frequenting which it slowly sails, or s.ts o„ ""T' °'" '"^ ^"^^ace of the water, watching he fish Th "'"' ^ ""'^ ^^"^^d above and instantaneous ftroke of ihefooT ",?'"'"'''' ^ ''«■<'- I" my parish it has bee„ 1 """'"^''^aim." the barn-yard in broad day ,^ht"°"" '° ^"^■^'^ ">' ^-^ '" J his bird cannot b • '^. White, With more:rTs'sta"t;e:ed and°: ''""" '"° ''=^' -^-™v„,<..c^.„^,„„_;^^ ^ and lunated spots of tne eye of birds generally. wi 70 WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. dark brown of dusky, thickest on the back, not found on the legs and feet; eyes, bright golden yellow; feet and claws, black. I must not close my account of this bird without giving a striking incident reported to me by a most venerable and trustworthy old gentleman in my church, who was person- ally acquainted with the party, and to whom the facts were well authenticated at the time. About fifty years ago, in the town of Milford, Otsego County, N. Y., a man, on pass- ing through a woods in the night, was twice knocked down by some strange power in the air; and, securing a club in time for the third rencounter, killed a large Snowy Owl, which, by this time, had knocked his hat full of holes, and sorely bruised his head. WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. "All times are good times to go a-shooting." So says Dr. Coues; and knowing it to be so, I am again in the woods on this cold day. I am struck, on entering, with the deserted look of the forest, and all the more on account of having seen this same spot, so many times, in all the life and splendor of summer — the trees in their marvelous robes of verdure, the wild flowers in all their grace and beauty, the birds in the full animation and song of spring. The wondrous power of memory reproduces in an instant all this combi- nation, with its delightful associations of coolness and fra- grance. Now the trees are bare, the flowers are perished, and the birds are gone; and how different is the solemn sough of the winter w'nd through leafless trees to the musical rustle of the summer breeze amidst the foliage ! Did I say the birds are gone? No; not entirely. Quank, qtianky quank. That note, so much louder in winter than in WHITE-BREASTED 11 U THATCH, 71 summer, for the same reason that sounds are louder in the night than in day-time — that sound, half guttural, half nasal, and on a low key, is one of the most familiar in our woods throughout the year. It is the language of the White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis)^ a bird so com- mon here as to be familiar to every woodman, though he may have no better name for it than Sapsucker, and may know no more about it than to suppose the name charac- teristic of its habits. But this bird is thus greatly misun- derstood, for while it is supposed to be living upon the sap of the tree, it is simply gleaning noxious insects and their eggs and larvae. Whatever may be the woodman's opinion of the bird, its presence affords him pleasure on a bleak winter's day, partly because it is often his only relief from solitude, and partly because the bird is a pleasing object in itself. How gracefully it moves along the trunk of yonder tree! A slight halt every few steps, it goes in a spiral direction, head up or do^n, moving forward, backward, or sidewise with equal convenience, every now and then pausing with its downward head and bill in a horizontal position, as if listening intently, and then taking up its note as it passes on, as if to express its sense of safety and satisfaction. With this note it can favor one as readily on a frosty day in winter as in the genial days of spring. Then, however, it makes quite an attempt at a song, uttering a tway-tway-ttvay- tway-tway, quite rapidly, and with much spirit, as it threads its way in the leafless trees on a bright April morning. Occa- sionally it will utter in an undertone a soft ^^tsink^ tsink" or "/&/^, kip'^ Sometimes it will alight on the ground, appar- ently to catch something which it has spied from a distance; or, for a few minutes, it will search the ground after the manner of the Golden-winged Woodpecker. The name m 72 WHITE-BKEASTED NUTHATCH. Nuthatch, though tather far-fetched, is not altogether inap- plicable. Holding an acorn or chestnut in a bark-crevice, or in a chink of a fence-rail, it will hammer it with its sharp- pointed bill till it opens up the contents. This is done, however, on account of the larvae burrowing in the fruit rather than for the fruit itself, for the bird is at all times strictly insectivorous. Then its form and color, too, are as pleasing as its movements. About six inches long, bill fi of an inch; head and bill together, about \% inch long; tail, short; wings, long; the breadth across the shoulders giving it a somewhat flat appearance; bluish ash over the back, the outer webbing of the black wings edged with the same, also the two middle tail feathers; the rest black, marked with white; head and back of neck in male, glossy black; in the female, black and ash mixed; whole under parts and sides of head, grayish- white — this bird cannot be mistaken. Its long hind toe and claw must be of great service in its downward movements. The Eastern United States and the British Provinces are given as its habitat. Its nesting habits are similar to those of the Chickadee; commonly on higher ground, however, and the cavity chosen or excavated higher up in the stub or decaying tree, sometimes as high as thirty or forty feet; the eggs being a little larger and more thickly marked. A set of five eggs in Professor Ward's cabinet at Roches- ter, N. Y., from Saratoga Springs, averages about .60 x .76 inch, are porcelain-white, with a few spots, or rather brush- touches, of dark-greenish or ocherous-yellow, at the large end — elegant! By the 9th of June I have seen the parents feeding the young well able to fly. The latter strongly resembled the mature female, except that the white on the cheeks and sides of the neck extended further upward, leav- ing the dark band over the crown and hind neck very nar- THE BLUE JAY. 73 row. Great care is shown these younglings by the parents in training them to creep and fly, and in feeding them most assiduously till quite mature. Indeed, the whole family seem not infrequently to remain together throughout the first year. THE RED-BELLIED NUTHATCH. Very similar to the above in appearance and habit is the Red-bellied Nuthatch {Sitta canadensis) ^ except that it is quite a little smaller, scarcely five inches long, has a white line over the eye, and the under parts of a pale rust-red. The female has the black about the head replaced with dark slate or dusky. The notes of this species are on a little higher key than those of CarolinensiSy and its nest and eggs are precisely like those of the Chickadee. It is north- erly, passing through New York State late in April and early in May, and again in September and October. Its breeding habitat begins in the northern parts of the State, extending through northern New England and into the British Provinces. The little Brown-headed Nuthatch {Sitta pusilld)^ some 4.25 long and differentiated by its elegant bro./n head and white spot on the nape, is a resident of the Southern States. There the sunny pine forests echo its note — *^cach^ cach^ each" — its nesting and habits in general being quite similar to those of our Nuthatches above described. THE BLUE JAY. The thermometer continues near zero. Large windows are now truly objects of beauty, their frosted patterns being inimitable. The larger figures remind one of ferns, or forest trees in miniature; some are like thin snow-fiakes of varied size and pattern, some like delicate lines fringed mostly at right angles; others are simply granulated with exquisitely K' Pi 74 THE BLUE JAY. scrolled borders, while others still are suggestive of land- scapes and pictures— all so delicate as to impress one forci- bly with the spirituality of the laws which govern matter. THE BLUE JAY. What a study it would be for the physicist to determine the variations possible on the one plan of crystallization of water at an angle of 60°! To-day I came into possession of a bird, the brilliant col- ors of which are strikingly in contrast with the plainness of winter. The Blue Jay {Cyanurus cristatus) is one of our win- ter residents, not so generally distributed as in most parts of our country, but quite common to certain low, timbered lands, where it is permanent, and breeds in considerable numbers. . This is one of the most characteristic birds of Eastern North America. Who does not know the Blue Jay ? About a foot long, five inches, or near one-half his length, is meas- ured by his tail; well proportioned, crested and fan-tailed, his form is elegant and his bearing stately; his various and THE BLUE JAY, 15 delicately-shaded tints of blue, the jet-black bars and snow- white tips of the wing and tail feathers, the black band from the back of the crest down the sides of the neck and meet- ing on the breast, and thus being most noticeable on the subdued grayish-white of the cheeks and underparts — are all in the most marked and pleasing contrast. No colored portrait which I have ever seen is anything more than a coarse caricature of the purplish-blue of the crest and back, the brownish-blue on the tail, and delicate shadings of rich indigo, ultra-marine and light azure on the wings. A single feather of the wing or tail, dropped in the pasture, used to excite my childish curiosity and love of beauty. Looking merely at his size and gay dress, who would suspect him to be a member of the Crow family ? Surely he is a favorite arrayed in a coat of many colors. Not only is he elegant in form and gay in apparel, but every motion indicates a proud, self-consciousness and love of display. Even his flight, which is straightforward and steady, is showy rather than rapid. When alighted, he stands upright, with elevated crest, and all his movements show an air of vanity and self- complacency. His notes are many and various. His common, saucy- squealing, cAay, chay^ chay^ which, no doubt, gave him his name in part — the other part being derived from his color — must be familiar to all who know him. ^'■Pwilhilly^ pwil- hily" and '■'■ chillack^ chillacky" are among his other more common utterances, while a sort of creaking, clucking sound may be regarded as his love-call. He is capable of imitating many birds, and there is some authority for assert- ing that he, true to his crow-nature, has even been taught to imitate words. He is especially fond of teasing. Wilson says: " He is not only bold and vociferous, but possesses a considerable talent for mimicry, and seems to enjoy great 1/ •I '■I ■ii h 10 THE BLUE JAY. satisfaction in mocking and teasing other birds, particularly the Little Hawk (Z'. sparverius)^ imitating his cry whenever he sees him, and squealing out as if caught; this soon brings a number of his own tribe around him, who all join in the frolic, darting about the Hawk, and feigning the cries of a bird sorely wounded and already under the clutches of its devourer; while others lie concealed in the bushes, ready to second their associates in the attack. But this ludi- crous farce often terminates tragically. The Hawk, singling out one of the most insolent and provoking, sweeps upon him in an unguarded moment, and offers him up a sacrifice to his hunger and resentment. In an instant the tune is changed; all their buffoonery vanishes, and loud and inces- sant screams proclaim their disaster." Like his near relative, the Crow, he takes delight in tor- menting the Owls. But lacking as the Blue Jay is in anything like gentle or winning ways, he might still meet with a fair toleration were it not for his thievish and cruel habits. How he will devour the fresh eggs from the bird's nests in his neighbor- hood on the sly, gobble up even the tender young, some- times in his barbarous daintiness taking nothing but the eyes and brain! how he will pick out the eyes of a wounded grouse; how he will steal corn from the bin, fruit from the garden, and grain from the barn, has been noted by orni- thologists in general. I have seen him lugging around an old sparrow in the tops of the trees, in the month of May, pick- ing out the eyes and train at his leisure, and seemingly without the least compunction; while, like all other tyrants, when the true test comes, he is by no means brave, often ** turning tail " to birds much smaller than himself. In view of all this, who will pity him when, during the long winter months, he is obliged to subsist on the frozen apples of the THE GOLDEN. iVING ED WOODPECKER, 77 orchard, or, at other times of scarcity, to glean scraps of carrion! His best living, probably, is when the nuts are ripe and plenty. Like other members of the Crow family, he can eat anything, and so is called omniv- orous. In the breeding season the Blue Jay is partial to the ever- greens of the forest, especially to dense cedar swamps, the nest being most commonly built in an evergreen tree, generally near the trunk, and anywhere from ten to thirty feet from the ground. The outside of the nest is composed of small twigs, the inside of fine rootlets, closely interwoven for the kind of materials, and having a dark appearance. The eggs, four or five in number, and about the size of those of a Robin, about 1.16 X .85, are greenish-drab, finely speckled ail over with light-brown and dull-lilac. Habitat, Eastern North America, from the Gulf to 56°, breeding throughout its range. The Florida Jay {Aphelocoma floridand), lacking the crest and the elegant black bars on wings and tail, is also blue and about the same size as the above. With no white markings on wings and tail, a plain gray patch on the back, and a whitish forehead, it is much plainer. The blue band about the head and neck contrasts finely, however, with the gray of the back and breast. It is abundant in Florida, and seems to be pretty much confined to that locality. ti m I THE GOLDEN- WINGED WOODPECKER. Between sunset and dark of this cold winter-day, I behold a most beautiful effect in the eastern sky. All along the horizon is a broad band of brilliant green, which gradually shades into a still broader band of rich purple, and this latter, on approaching the zenith, shades into a cold winter-gray. In the midst of the purple is the moon ' 'M'Si ':i C'J 78 THE GOLDEN. WINGED WOODPECKER. II ■f just before the full, and in front of the green is a bright train of silvery clouds, tinted with the lingering hues of a rosy sunset. I am traversing the border of a large tract of woods, when, high above the rest of the trees, in the tops of the tower- ing elms, I discern the form and flight of the Golden-winged Woodpecker (Colaptes auratus), a bird but occasionally seen in this locality in winter. Silent and shy, he makes off as fast as convenient, keeping to the tops of the tallest trees. I strain my eyes for a last glimpse of him, but he soon vanishes in the gloaming. What a train of recollections and associations that mo- mentary flight recalls! Next to the Robin, Bluebird, or Barn Swallow, few members of the feathered tribes are bet- ter known than " Flicker," "High-hole," "Yellow-hammer," etc., for the Golden-wing is known by all these names. His several notes are among the most characteristic sounds of spring, at which time he is thoroughly noisy. Com- ing from the south in large numbers late in March or early in April, ascending some tall, dry tree-top at early dawn, he announces himself either by a sonorous rapping on the dry wood or by a loud squealing, but jovial call, chee-ah^ chee-ah which, once noted, is not easily forgotten. But even this latter is not half so awakening as a certain pro- longed strain, of merely two syllables in regular repetition, something like whric'k-ah — whric'k-ah — whric'k-ah — whric'k- ah — whric'k-ah — whric'k-ah. This vocal performance, meant for a song no doubt, is a mere rollicking racket toned down, indeed, amidst the many voices of spring, and even rendered pleasing by its good-natured hilarity. How significant is that little love-note, yu-cah, half guttural, half whisper, which he repeats at intervals as he flits about the solitude of the forest in spring, or plays bo- — ■. •iw.tVMWR THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER. 70 peep with his lover around the broken-off top or limb of some dead tree ! His flight is swift, vigorous and dashing; is performed in curves by a few flaps of the wings, curving upward several feet when alighting on the trunk of a tree, but ending hori- zontally when alighting cross-wise on limbs, after the man- ner of perching birds. In manner, as in structure, he is not precisely like the rest of his family. At home anywhere from the tallest tree-top to the ground, and always in a hurry when afoot, he will capture his insect food after the manner of Robins and Sparrows. Ants of all sizes are spe- cially in favor with him. Why he should have such a decided preference for this dry diet it is difficult to conceive — perhaps on account of the tickling sensation which large numbers of these vigorous little creatures may afford when taken alive into the stomach. In summer and in autumn, when these birds are sometimes exceedingly numerous, they do not disdain certain kinds of small fruit, as wild grapes and elderberries. The nidification of this species is so much like that of other Woodpeckers as to need no special notice, except in two particulars, viz., that Flicker frequently chooses a much decayed stub, and that the eggs are especially trans- lucent and beautiful, the yolk appearing through the shell when fresh. It may perhaps be added that the eggs are sometimes laid at irregular intervals and in extraordinary numbers. About the size of a Pigeon, some 12.60 length and 19.00 extent, with bill slightly curved, its head and neck are of a purplish-drab, with a scarlet crescent on the back of the head, and, in the male, a black spot on each cheek at the base of the bill; upper parts greenish-brown, spotted with black; rump white and very conspicuous in flight; under 5:1 80 THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER. parts reddish-white, beautifully spotted with black; a black crescent on the breast; shafts of the larger feathers, under side of wings and tail a rich yellow. This bird ranges through Eastern North America, resid- ing from the Middle States southward, some wintering as far north as New England, and breeding throughout its range. ■'''■ :■;'•■ ■ '! V h 4 I <, CHAPTER V. A JANUARY THAW. IT is the last of January, 1880. We have had a complete thaw; the frost is about out of the ground; the sunny days would do credit to the last of March. Of course, ornitholo- gists are on the lookout such days as these, so I must to the fields and to the woods. THE SNOW-BIRD. As I spring over a pasture fence I startle a. flock of Snow- birds {/unco hyemalis) from among the v\rithered golden-rods of last year. Tse-tse-tse-tse-tse^ and they leave en masse for the brush-heap yonder. Both sight and sound give me clue to them at onc^,, foi they are common here from October till May. The great body of them, however, pass south- ward in avitumn and northward in spring, it being one of the most abundant birds in the migrations. Who does not love the Snow-bird? Not for its gay apparel, however, for it is not only plain, but even sombre in dress. The Mourning Sparrow, it might be call d. A fine male is almost as dark as crape, the pure white of his biP, feet and legs, lower breast and under parts and feathers on either side of his tail, being a most delicate set-off. The female, when lightest, has the dark parts, a half mourning gray, or dark drab. How strikingly in harmony is this little bird with the gloom of autumn, the bleak days of winter, or the chilly winds and unclad fields of early spring! 6 \ .1 ' \ w- I 4 ;, j I 1 "\\ 'I'l !'i \ '' .111 I'-l I m 1 : Jl \ 4 82 THE snow-bird. In size, structure, and habit, it is every whit a Sparrow, and quite frequently chooses the various members of that faxnily for its company. Most intimately is the history of THE SNOW-BIRD. this bird associated with my childhood. I well remember the sunny spring day in Nova Scotia, when, in my boyish delight, I found the first two bird's nests — the first, that of the Hermit Thrush; the second, that of a Snow-bird. Ever after I found the nest of the latter among the most com- mon. Situated like that of the Song Sparrow, generally on the ground and under some protection, rarely on a stump or in a low bush, it is neatly built and most softly lined with hair — often the hair rubbed off by the cattle on the stumps. It contains some four eggs about .80 x .60, of a fleshy white, sometimes tinged with blue, delicately specked with reddish-brown. This nest is a very gem of its kind — almost proof in itself against the boyish propensity to dis- THE SNOW-BIRD. 83 turb this kind of treasure. When startled from her nest the female is much excited, hobbling along on the ground as if lame or leg-broken, her wide-spread tail showing the white feathers on either side — the mark of relationship to the Bay- wing — to the best advantage. Hopping about the nearest stump or fence-rail, in the most uneasy manner, she is joined immediately by her darker mate, in her sharp chip-chip-chip-chip-chipping, and again takes possession of the nest as soon as the intruder leaves. The chipping note of this bird is so much like that of the Chipping Sparrow {Spizella socialis) that Wilson found many persons in New England and some in New York State who believed that the former turned into the latter in summer, and it was most difficult to remove the erroneous notion. Resembhng the Song Sparrow in size and general habit, the Snow-bird differs widely from it, not only in color, but ill its song, which is a prolonged tintinnabulous twitter — a more musical rendering of the monotonous strokes in tlie plain melody of the Chipping Sparrow. Sometimes, how- ever, one may surprise it in a soft, low warble, as if indulg- ing in a musical soliloquy. Though belonging to the Fringillidce, or seed-eating family, it is, in summer at least, particularly insectivorous, completely crowding its mouth with soft, writhing larvae for its young. Audubon gave the Alleghany Mountain range as the breed- ing habitat of this bird, and did not see it in Labrador. Minot reports it breeding in the White Mountains early in June, and sometimes again in July. Augustus H. Wood, an ornithologist residing at Painted Post, N. Y., reports it breeding commonly in his neighborhood, in damp situations in ravines of hemlock woods. I have myself seen the female, on the Yth of June, her mouth crammed with larvae, in Tonawanda Swamp, in Orleans County, N. Y. Dr. Coues .'M 84 THE MEADOW LARK. informs me that in suitable localities it breeds southward^ even to Virginia and North Carolina. May not the damp coolness of the swamp retain northern birds during the breeding season as well as do the mountain ranges? The Snow-bird winters from Southern New England southward to the Gulf States. In the Rocky Mountains and to the westward it is replaced by closely-allied species or varieties. THE MEADOW LARK. It is ten o'clock in the forenoon. A strong south wind springs up, and the sky, so clear and sunny an hour ago, is covered with dense, gray clouds. I am strolling along the telegraph road by an old stone fence, when a pair of Meadow Larks {Sturnclla magna) light on the fence a few rods from me, scarcely able to stand up against the wind. They are occa- sionally seen here throughout the winter. For the most part, however, this is a migratory bird, entering the Middle States, New England, and correspond- ing latitudes about the second week in March, and going south in flocks with the later migrations to spend the winter in the Southern States. Here, according to Wilson, at this time of year, " they swarm among the rice planta- tions, running about the yards and out-houses, accompanied by the Killdeers, with little appearance of fear, as if quite domesticated." In the wet, chilly days of March we are forcibly reminded that spring is here by the clear, sweet, but plaintive warble, which comes in soft, whistling tones from meadow and pasture, wee-tsee-tsee-ree-ee^ tsec-ree-tsee-ree-ee. The strange flight, too, consisting of a few tremulous, vibrating strokes of the wings, succeeded by a short sailing, clearly distin- guishes the Meadow Lark. What strange impulse is it which starts this bird thus early northward to buffet THE MEADOW LARK. 85 benumbing winds and rains? Had we the wings of a bird, would we not then fly away to sunnier climes and be at rest ? Always a bird of the fields, hence sometimes called " Old Field Lark," on its arrival it keeps to the ground, the stone heaps, and the fence. As the period of mating and nidification approaches, the male becomes quite noisy. Launching into the air at a considerable height, instead of his whistling warble, he gives vent to a loud, guttural twitter. Frequently alighting in solitary trees about the field, he steps back and forth, and jerks and spreads his tail in the most uneasy and excited manner. The female, meanwhile, seems shy and retiring, and frequently needs a good deal of coaxing on the part of the male; but in due time receives his amorous attentions with the utmost complacency. Though this species breeds in Florida already in the latter part of April, nidification does not begin here till the middle or latter part of May. In the case of a most lypical nest, an excavation is made in a tussock of grass; coarse dried grasses are duly arranged as a frame-work, and the lining is of fine grasses, while the dried grasses of the previous year, still standing around the excavation, are matted and arranged overhead with other material, so as to form a roof open on one side. In this cozy home are placed four or five white eggs, a little larger than those of a Robbin, about 1.10 X .80, speckled, and sometimes blotched, with reddish- brown and lilac. Sometimes, however, the nest is quite exposed, like that of a Bay-winged Sparrow. In New York State a second brood may be raised. The young are most tenderly cared for by the parents for weeks after being able to fly; indeed, up to the period of migration the whole family generally keep together. When caring for their young the parent birds have a peculiar note, which sounds like quaip, quaip. _- ^ — 86 THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER. In the beautiful days of October the male often indulges in his delicious warble. At this time the moult has some- what changed his appearance. The brown tips and mark- ings of the black feathers above, the more perfect fringes of very light brown, which adorn all the dark plumage, as well as the various light markings about the head, are all of a warmer, redder tint, while the bright-yellow underneath, and especially the jet-black and somewhat heart-shaped collar on the breast, are so deeply fringed with reddish as to render them somewhat obscure. In plumage, voice and nidification, this bird resembles the Lark, but in structure, it is more properly an American Starling. On the prairies and plains of the far west there is a lighter-colored variety, said to differ in song; while in South America, there is a beautiful Red-breasted Lark, similar to ours in form, size, and marking. The Meadow Lark's long-pointed bill and enormous legs and feet may be regarded as indicative of its ground-life and insect diet. Though seeming to be a rather awkwardly- shaped bird when examined in the hand, it often takes an attitude when alighting, especially if on a rock, which is exceedingly graceful. Breeding in Texas and Florida northward as far as the Columbia and the Saskatchawan rivers, Mr. Everett Smith reports it as "common in western Maine;" and adds, "not common east of the K^nnebeck Valley, and almost unknown east of the Penobscot Valley. Much less abundant in the western part of the State now than twenty years ago." Mr. Chamberlain notes it as "a rare summer resident" in New Brunswick. THE RED HEADED WOODPECKER. I pass on to the woods and meet a striking object but occasionally seen in our winter landscape, the Red-headed THE BROWN CREEPER. 87 Woodpecker {Melanerpes erythrocephalus). About the size of most of its relatives in this locality, some 9.50 long, with bright-scarlet head and neck, upper parts black with steel-blue reflections, except the rump and secondaries, which, like the under parts, are white, it is so well known as to need but little description. This bird is a common resident here during the summer, and, in most respects, is so like other Woodpeckers in habit as to need but little special history in a work like this. Its partiality to road- sides, its striking coloration of red, white and black, making it one of the most strikingly beautiful bird-ornaments of our landscape, and its excessive fondness for fruit, especially cherries, are its most marked peculiarities. Its ordinary call, ker-er-er-er-evy when rollicking in the tree-tops, is very characteristic. THE BROWN CREEPER. The Red-head passes out of sight, and for a while aH is silent. Hark! there is a soft conversational twitter among the hemlocks. I wait patiently, and strain my eyes in this direction and that, but for some minutes can see nothing. Presently a troop of Chickadees appear; then several White- bellied Nuthatches, uttering a soft kip^ kip^ kip, and an occasional sonorous quc/ik, quank, pass by in their usual spirited manner; and, while they are yet passing, two Brown Creepers (Certhia familiaris) come in sight. Lighting at the base of the trees, they ascend them by dainty little jerks in a spiral manner, gleaning food as they go, uttering an occasional soft chip, or a quick shree-shree-shree ; often flit- ting away from a tree before ascending very high, in order to begin the ascent at the base of another, which, this time, perhaps, will be continued to the top. How well the color of this little bird, a variety of rich browns curiously marked — the white underneath being out of sight — corresponds "% %-^A 1 88 THE BROWN CREEPER. with the colors of this open winter. Its long, slender bill, much curved, is well adapted to picking insects and their larvae from the crevices of the bark, while the sharp claws and rigid-pointed tail-feathers are a sufficient support to the ascending movements. It is too graceful and dignified ever to hang head-downward like Nuthatches and Titmice. It is also rather shy, frequently keeping the opposite side of the tree on seeing the observer, and then it is necessary to get behind a tree also, and, looking for it some distance higher than the point where it disappeared, one may get a glimpse of it again. Its flight is very nervous and quick. In spring it will be much more numerous, as the greater number of this species passes south in autumn and north w. spring, when it has a soft and melodious song. It is now well made out that the ordinary nesting-place of this species is behind a loose strip of bark on a dead tree or a stub, from five to fifteen feet from the ground. Composed externally of dried twigs arranged lengthwise between the bare mast-like trunk and the loosened bark, and so assum- ing a crescent form elevated at both ends and depressed in the middle, the interior and bulk of the nest are of shreds of the inner bark of various trees, with, perhaps, some usnea and spider's cocoons, and lined with still finer shreds of bark or with feathers. If the bark is so close to the tree as barely to admit the nest, the external structure of twigs is dispensed with. The tree or stub chosen is gen- erally of the pine or fir, and is nearly denuded of bark. The eggs, generally five or six, averaging .59 X .48, are delicate white, rosy when fresh, finely marked with brown and purplish-brown. They resemble those of the Titmice and Nuthatches. This diminutive species, some 6.50 long, is at home alike in Europe and throughout North America. THE GREAT HORNED OWL. 80 THE GREAT HORNED OWL. Our four seasons, spring, summer, autumn and winter, are not divided by exact lines. There is no perceptible differ- ence between the last of Mayand the first of June, nor between the last of August and the first of September; and the melt- ing power of spring is in the air, even in our climate, long before the last of February. The birds do not begin to make their appearance from the south, indeed, until some time in March; yet there is one common resident, which breeds already in February, becoming conscious, perhaps, of the genial influence of the first melting rays of the sun. About the middle of the last-named month a youth brought me a large, living female of the Great Horned Owl {Bubo virginianus), which had been winged while on the nest; and he had also secured the eggs. The nest was a huge pile of sticks, placed very high in a beech tree; the eggs, two in number, some 2.25 x 2.00, were roundish, smooth, and of a dull but clear white. The nest is said to be found some- times in a hollow tree, or even in the cleft of a rock, but generally in a tall pine or hemlock, and to be generally " lined with dry leaves and a few feathers," the eggs being sometimes as many as six. Twenty inches or two feet in length, tawny or whitish, variously mottled with brown and black; with a large, white patch on the throat, large ear- tufts and bright-yellow irides; his is a large, homely form, patched and spotted with the plainest of colors, and having a face like that of a lynx rather than of a bird. Nor are his habits any more agreeable than his personal appearance. Most formidable as to bill and claws, he is a sly, destructive bird of prey, even to the devastation of the poultry-yard. Wilson tells the following amusing anecdote about him: "A very large one, wing broken, ♦ ♦ * ^^s kept about the house for several days, and at length disappeared, ■'r. 90 THE GREAT HORNED OWL. no one knew how. Almost every day after this hens and chickens also disappeared, one by one, in an unaccountable manner, till, in eight or ten days, very few were left remain- ing. The fox, the minx, and weasel were alternately the reputed authors of this mischief, until one morning, the old lady herself, rising before day to bake, in passing towards the oven, surprised her late prisoner, the Owl, regaling himself on the body of a newly-killed hen! The thief instantly made for his hole under the house, from whence the enraged matron soon dislodged him with the brush-handle, and without mercy dispatched him. In this snug retreat were found the greater part of the feathers, and many large fragments of her whole family of chickens." In confinement the Great Horned Owl is simply horrible. He will squint and scowl at one in the most ominous man- ner; and again turning his eyes into very balls of fire, will snap at one like a cross dog, hiss like an angry cat, and strike his claws at one with the most murderous force. Did I not once see a large dog rush around the house in perfect desperation, in the attempt to disengage the claws of this bird from both sides of his head? If reared from the nest, however, he may become quite docile and friendly. Mr. Bruce, of Brockport, has one such, which, on being greeted with a bow by his master, will bow and blink most obsequiously in return, and will even reach out his foot to shake hands. One now in the large museum at Drummondville, Ontario, opposite Niagara Falls, will boo-hoo and bawl^ after the most hideous manner of his wonted midnight carnivals in the forest, in answer to the conver- sation and questions of his keeper. Concerning the courtship of this bird, Audubon says: "The curious evolutions of the male in the air, or his motions when he has alighted near his beloved, it is impos- THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 91 sible to describe. His bowings and the snappings of his bill are extremely ludicrous; and no sooner is the female assured that the attentions paid her by the beau are the result of a sincere affection than she joins in the motions of her future mate." How 0/ How O! HoO'hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! These, with many other screaming and choking sounds to one who has heard them, and has both a good memory and a good imagination, may be especially significant. But of all the sounds with which this bird makes night hideous, no one has heard any to the greatest advantage, unless, passing through some dis- mal forest in the full blackness of night, he has heard the alarm sounded suddenly in the tree-tops above him. No one need fail of the acquaintance of the Great Horned Owl, for he is abundant, and the whole continent is his nabitat. THE RED-TAILED HAWK. It is the last of February. The ground is frozen hard; a light fall of snow during the previous night has but covered the earth, and th? sun has started on his career through the heavens without a cloud to obscure his pathway. Gun in hand, I have entered the nearest woods, and am crossing the course of a run, smoothly frozen over, when I break through the shell-ice, and from the dry region beneath the Gray Rabbit {Lepus sylvaticus) springs out through the opening at my feet, and squats on a log only a few feet from me. I attempt to fire, but the gun will not go off. I spoil several caps, and go home to see what the matter is, well knowing that I can track my game in the new snow for some time to come. I am chagrined at the loss of the Rabbit, but am diverted by the flight of a Red-tailed Hawk {Buteo borealis), which, high in air, seems to be enjoying this delightful morning. ^ I f Is IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGr (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 ItilM |25 Sf litt us m lAO ■ 10 i'-''miii4 < 6" ► ta PhotDgra]iiic Sdences Corporalion 23 WIST MAIN STRiiT WnSTIR.N.Y. MStO (716) ■73-4903 A V V 4 •N? \\ \ ^ >. -<^rS ■;.* m 92 THE RED-T AILED HAWK, How much there is in the flight of a bird! Full well has the Duke of Argyll seized upon it as an unmistakable evi- dence of design in nature. From the fish darting through the pathless waters, or the serpent gliding without legs or feet along the ground, or the frog leaping with surprising elasticity, or the stately stepping of the steed, up through all the various styles and methods of animal locomotion, to the eagle which soars above the clouds, the flight of birds is by far the most interesting and wonderful. How that Hawk floats like something ethereal in the atmosphere! His lungs affording communication with a system of large cavi- ties throughout the body, the bones and muscles, oven, and the spaces between the body and the skin being pervaded by the ramifications of air-cells, every respiration literally fills him; and this inhaled air being rarefied by the heat of his body, not to speak of the innumerable interspaces of the light plumage, all pervaded by the external air, l.e is almost as light as the clouds themselves. If the reader has ever climbed a mountain, and known the intoxication of delightful sensations produced by a rarefied atmosphere, he may form some conception of what must be the pleasurable sensations of this soaring creature. As to the act of flight itself, the upper side of the wing being convex, and the wing somewhat drawn together, the upward stroke in flight meets but little resistance, while the under side, which is concave, incloses the atmosphere in the downward stroke of the fully-extended wing, and so secures the full force of its elasticity. This, however, simply enables the bird to rise. What carries it forward ? The air, escaping behind the long, elastic pinions, drives it on, some- what as the wind, escaping behind the sail, propels the boat The sailing of the bird, with steady, motionless wing^ is accomplished by a nice adjustment of the wing to the THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 93 breeze, precisely like the trimming of a sail. But to hover is the most wonderful feat of the bird — to make rapid strokes with the wings, and yet rem.ain at the same point in the air. Who has not seen the King-fisher, or the Spar- row Hawk hover ? or the Humming-bird, as it poises itself in front of the flower, to capture the insects housed in its beautiful chambers, or to sip its nectar? This is done by an oblique stroke of the wing^. The bird is aever in a horizontal position in hovering, but always poised at an angle, thus allowing the air to escape from the wing in such a manner as simpiy to keep it up. Here is design, indeed, but also something still higher; the thought of flight must have- preceded the nice adjusting of the structure and functions of the wing to the aerial laws. But there is no thought without a thinker; hence the flight of the Hawk carries my mind up to the Great Creator. And is this not a great lesson taught in a most pleasing manner? Who could not derive pleasure in beholding such majestic soaring, such grand spiral curves of immense sweep, such sublime eleva- tion, till the bird becomes a mere speck against the ether? I cannot think of any bird short of the E&gle whose flight can equal this in elegance and grandeur. It is the very poetry of motion. What can the bird be thinking of at such a' time ? Is it not enjoying that animated existence, the very consciousness of which, in its normal state, is bliss? Great lesson to unsatisfied human nature. Here let us quote a few lines from John Burroughs: " The calmness and dignity of this Hawk, when attacked by the Crows or the King-bird, are well worthy of him. He seldom deigns to notice his noisy and furious antagonists, but deliberately wheels about in that aerial spiral, and mounts and mounts till his pursuers grow dizzy and return to the earth again. It is quite original, this mode of getting rid of 94 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. an unworthy opponent, rising to heights where the braggart is dazed and bewildered and loses his reckoning! I am not sure' but it is worthy of imitation." The tube of my shot-gun cleared, I return early in the afternoon in search of the Gray Rabbit. I have no difficulty in tracing his track in the fresh snow, but what a zigzag course he has taken! I seem to have traveled miles, and yet am only a few rods from the place of starting. Alas! poor Rabbit! I have reached the end of his career, and find simply a great spot of blood on the snow, with bunches of hair and a few bones. While I am trying to conjecture the author of this tragedy, I look up to the top of a tall tree quite near and spy a Red-tailed Hawk motionless as a statue. He is probably the one I saw soaring so majesti- cally a few hours ago, and is now resting in favor of diges- tion, after gorging himself with the missing Rabbit, Some- what annoyed at the extent of the meal, but more over the loss of my game, I take aim and bring him to the ground. He must lose his life in penalty of gluttony. Ordinarily, he would not have allowed the hunter to come near enough to reach him with a shot-gun. He is only wounded, how- ever, and rearing himself on claws and tail, assumes a most formidable attitude of defense. With superciliary ridges projecting far over his eyes, which gleam with vengeance, with mouth wide open and crest erect, what a savage physi- ognomy he presents! And in what a threatening manner he raises his powerful wings! ^ Hands off I" is the language of his whole expression, as bill, wings and claws are in equal readiness for blows and wounds. I extend to him the muzzle of the g^n, which he grasps so firmly with both talons that I carry him home before he relinquishes his hold. Nailing slats across a large box, I attempt to keep my bird in confinement, placing food before him regularly, THE RED-T AILED HAWK. 95 and showing him every possible attention; but, like a genuine savage, he will neither eat nor show any sign of gn^ief or submission. And yet I must admire him, for he finally dies without any yielding of spirit^ without any disposition whatever to become a slave. The Hawks, as a group belonging to the birds of prey, are placed between the Owls and the Vultures. The Hawks again, according to their structure, are naturally arranged into Harriers, Falcons, 'True-hawks, Buzzards and Fish-hawks. The Red-tailed Hawk, often called the Hen Hawk, is a Buzzard, and, Hke the rest of the Buzzards, is so nearly related to the Eagle as to afford very little structural dif- ference. In dignity of habit this Hawk, as well as some others, stands above the Eagle. The latter is often a notori- ous thief, wresting the hard-earned prey from other birds, or even condescending to the most putrid'carrion, while the Hawks in general capture their own prey. TLe fare of the Red-tailed Hawk is quite in keeping with his dignified bearing, consisting generally of hares, squirrels, birds, barn- yard fowl, frogs, or a fancy snake. In search of the latter, or perhaps even of mice, you may sometimes see him scour- ing the meadows somewhat in the manner of the Marsh Hawk. Generally, however, with a keen-sightedness which is perfectly marvelous, he descries his prey from the enormous height of his spiral sailing, sometimes dropping almost meteor-like, and then suddenly checking himself, he seizes his quarry unawares; or he alights on it from some perch near by, whence he has been reconnoitering an im- mense reach of territory. On the whole, if it were not for his depredations on the poultry-yard, we should think more of him than of any other bird of prey. The natural adap- tation of this class of birds to a life of cruelty makes them repulsive to the tenderer feelings, unless, indeed, we conceive 96 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. that the perfection of nature's variety needs a cruel phase, just as the various shades of light and of color need dark- ness for their perfection. The Red-tailed Hawk is nearly two feet in length; the color above is a rich dark-brown, the wings and upper tail- coverts marked and barred with dusky and white; the tail is generally bright chestnut-red, sometimes margined with white, always sub-margined with black reddish-gray be- neath; the under parts generally white, with a zone of brown markings across the breast. The cere, legs and feet are bright-yellow. This may be regarded las the ordinary marking of the mature bird. It varies greatly, however, with age. The male is several inches shorter than the female. In Western New York, the Red-tailed Hawk lays its egg^ in March or April. The eggs, three in number, of a nest taken the 27th of March, are now before me. One of my parishioners discovered it in a large beech tree, only a few rods from his sugar-camp, where he was busy every day gathering and boiling sap, the birds not seeming in the least disturbed by the business. The nest, equal in bulk to a bushel-basket, composed of sticks rudely piled, lined with Rne strips of the inner bark of ash rails in a slashing near by, was in the fork of a large limb, about fifteen feet from the trunk, and about a hundred and twenty feet from the ground. A truly perilous undertaking was this ascent, and yet a young friend kindly volunteered his services, saying, with a very suggestive look: " If I fall and break my bones, you must pay the doctor's bill; if I kill myself, you must pay my funeral expenses." The eggs, about 2.26 long by rather less than 1.00 broad, are roundish, one end a little smaller than the other, greenish-white, two dimly scratched and spotted with a purplish-brown, while all are more or THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 07 less sparingly marked with a muddy-brown, the latter color- ing, in the case of the otherwise clear egg, seeming very like slight smirchings of dirt. On the whole, they are rather pretty. Another nest, taken a few days later, contained two eggs not quite so round, and having the dark-brown markings heavier and more numerous. The nest was similarly placed. In the latter part of March, of 1874, a nest was found in the top of a tall elm tree in the woods near Knowlesville. Two young men undertook to capture the Hawk. The one fired at the nest, and, holding his piece rather carelessly, found it sticking in the jnud behind him; the other succeeded in taking the female bird on the wing as she left her eyrie. The male now sat on the eggs for a time, but was too wary to allow an approach within gun-shot, and left after a few days. In all of the above cases the birds seem to have raised their young in the same locality for a series of years. The note of the Red-tailed Hawk, most commonly heard, as he sails high in the air, in the bright days of summer, and expressed, perhaps, by the syllables kshee-o^ Kshee-o, well drawn out, is rather harsh and squealing, but when uttered while the female cuts her g^and circles above the nest, as it is being disturbed, it is even pathetic. This bird may be found in Western New York throughout the year; and from the last of February or the first of March till late in autumn, it is our most common Hawk. Its habitat is all North America, and even Mexico and some of the West India Islands. Similar in form to the above, but a little larger, and dis- tinguishable by the "tarsus feathered in front for more than half its length," and by the four outei quills " incised on the inner webs," is that rare southern species — Harlan's Hawk {Bueto harlani). It is, however, a little larger, and appears darker. " General colors throughout, dark, sooty- 7 08 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. brown, with the wings, excepting tips of primaries, finely but irregularly barred with ashy-brown and whitish. The tail is mottled with ashy-brown, which becomes decidedly rufous next to the shaft of the subterminal portion of the feathers. Below, the feathers of the flanks and under the tail coverts are obscurely banded with ashy-brown. The basal two-thirds of the feathers on head, neck, all around, and breast to middle of body, are pure white." {Maynard). This fine bird was first found in Louisiana by Audubon. As none were found for many years afterward, its validity as a species was doubted. More recently some half-dozen specimens have been found, some as far north as Pennsyl- vania, but more of them in Texas. It is now regarded as a well-defined species. The Red-shouldered Hawk {Buteo lineatus) — male, some 19.00 long; female, 22.00 — is nearly as long as the former species to which it is very closely related, but it is not nearly as heavy. Reddish-brown above the feathers, dark-centered, lighter shade of the same below, with narrow streaks of darker and bars of white, the blackish tail noticeably banded with white, shoulder of the wing orange-brown. Young, plain brown above, white below, dark-streaked. This species is every way similar in habit to the Red-tail. Very abund- ant along the Atlantic Coast and in the Atlantic States generally, it becomes rare already in the Maritime prov- inces, and is not common to the westward. It is either rare or overlooked in Western New York. Swainson's Hawk {Buteo swainsoni)^ a northwestern species, breeding rarely in Illinois, and straggling to Montreal and Massachusetts, must be noticed here. The male^ some 19.50 long, and 48.00 in extent, is dark-brown above, lighter on head, darker on wings, and ashy on tail, the feathers, especially on neck, more or less edged with reddish. Wings THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 09 and tail crossed with wary bars of dusky, the latter tipped with whitish. Concealed patch on back of head, white; sides white, barred with reddish and dark-brown; white beneath, tinged below the throat with reddish-yellow, the breast ban ed with reddish-brown; under wing coverts tipped with black. There is also a darker form. The femaUy some 20.10 long and 48.75 in extent, is similarly marked, but much darker. This species sometimes builds its nest in shrubbery. The Broad-winged Hawk {Buteo pennsylvanicus) is a com- mon eastern species. The male, some 15.26 long and 85.00 in extent, is brown above, the feathers edged with reddish; head and neck streaked with white; tail with a broad, red- dish-gray band a little more than an inch from the tip, a narrow band of the same nearer the base, and tipped with same; under parts white, or buff y- white, broadly cross- barred and variously marked with light-brown. Female, an inch or so longer, and similarly marked. This fine little Hawk is generally distributed throughout the Eastern States in summer, and winters to the south. Its food is mostly the smaller birds and quadrupeds, which it captures for the most part among the bushes or on the ground. Like the rest of the Buteos, it is quite giver to sailing in flight, but not in such grand, sweeping curves as those of its larger congeners. It is, perhaps, one of the most unwary of all our Hawks, and, with a little caution, may be approached quite closely. It nests in trees, constructing quite a bulky nest of sticks and twigs externally, and lined with leaves and shreds of bark. Generally an evergreen tree is pre- ferred. The eggs, three or four, some 2.10 x 1.65 elliptical or roundish, are of a dirty white color, blurred or blotched with reddish-brown. Sometimes they are almost white. CHAPTER VI. VOICES OF SPRING. IN the Middle States the entire month of March is a tem- pestuous conflict between the icy cold of winter and the power of a vernal sun. Yet even the first week of this month may have its days of genial warmth, when the earth, reeking from the relenting frost, woos the coming spring. Such is this third day of March, when lo! a voice salutes me, which is the very soul of tenderness. I can scarcely tell whether sadness or joy the more prevails in its soft warb- ling^, so strictly is it in harmony with these unsettled days. It is the voice of the Bluebird {Sialia sialis). Appearing here the last week in February or the first week in March, the "color ' of the sky "on his back " and the "hue" of the earth "on his breast," he may well inspire hope and courage in every heart. Who does not welcome the Bluebird ? Like the sweet-scented trailing arbutus, which they called the May-flower, the arrival of the Bluebird cheered the fainting spirits of the ^rst settlers of Massachusetts after a long and dreadful winter; and, associating him in some way with the Robin-redbreast of Europe, they called him the Blue Robin. Some 6.50-7.00 long, the upper parts of the male are a beautiful, bright, ultra-marine blue; throat, breast and sides chestnut-red ; belly white. The female is similar, but more or less tinged with dull gray above. The young resemble the old, but, with a light fringed plumage above, are truly beautiful. THE BLUEBIRD. 101 All through March, but especially through April, the bright colors and soft, clear warble of the Bluebird are inseparably associated with our landscape. The females, arriving some time after the males, about the middle of April, there is a modest courtship, resulting in pairing and immediate preparation for nesting. As the female first appears and alights on the fence, the males may appear one on each side of her, each vying with the other in attractive demonstrations. They raise their wings with a graceful, trembling motion, warble most significantly, and sidle towards her. Perchance she disdains them both, and as she flies away they both pursue her. A spirited contest between the males may now occur, or the female accepting the over- tures of the one, the other will quietly retire. The mating over, the warbling grows more cheerful. Boxes, deserted Woodpeckers' holes, and natural cavities in posts, stubs, and especially about the trees of the orchard, or even an opening in the cornice of the house, are all explored, the female constantly leading, and the male attending with a great deal of gallant ceremony and music. Cheerily^ cheerily^ is his constant theme, with more or less variation, as the quiet and industrious housewife lug^ in the various soft materials — mostly dried grasses — for bedding the nest. The eggs, from four to six, and about the size of those of a Bay-winged Sparrow, some .85 x -62, are of a clear pale- blue. As soon as the young are able to fly, the male takes them in charge, and the female starts a second brood, and sometimes in like manner a third. During all this time their destruction of insects, which constitute their chief diet, is immense. This season I had a good opportunity of watching the incubation of a nest made in the mortise of an old fancy post, the remains of a former fence in a front yard, the mor- 102 THE ROBIN» i' tise having been enlarged by decay. The nest was neatly made of dried g^rasses, and the five eggs were real gems. Incubation lasted about ten days. Another nest was made in the tool-box of a reaper, which had been left in the field from Saturday till Thursday, the lid of the box having been kept open by the handle of a wrench. The nest had been built in this short time, and one egg had been laid. After incubation is beg^n the male becomes almost silent, and remains so during the summer. Some time in Novem- ber the family groups leave for the south, having then a single plaintive note, wholly unlike the warble of spring, and quite as well in keeping with the gloom of autumn. The plumage now, too, is more or less mixed with a cold gray, thus making the harmony with the bleakness of nature the more perfect. The Bluebird spends the winter in the Southern States, sometimes going even further south; and in its northern migrations goes scarcely beyond New England, in the northern part of which it already becomes uncommon. From the eastern foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains west- ward to the Pacific are two closely-allied species called the Western Bluebird and the Rocky Mountain Bluebird, the latter being more common in the mountainous region indi- cated by its name. The former has the throat-blue, and a chestnut spot on the back; the latter, which is of a greenish shade, has the under parts similar to the upper, only lighter, fading into white on the belly. THE ROBIN. On this same 3d of March, so full of brightness and warmth, I meet the first Robins of the year. I hear their abrupt, vigorous, clear note before I see them. This note, though resembling that of various Thrushes, has a ring all THE ROBIhr, 103 its own, and is in keeping with the bird itself, which, in every respect is energetic, hardy, plain and blunt. It is particularly his note of a beautiful spring evening, hence it has been designated his "evening call." If those most elegant songsters, the Thrushes, members of his own family, keeping so closely to the thick forests, and scarcely allowing the closest observer to get a glimpse of tlom while they sing, may remind one of people of refined and r^rjerved habits, and "distant, high-bred ways," then surely the Robin must recall the inartistic mp.nners of tl more com- mon people. His is the air of a vigorous, robust pioneer. Though ^ciuctimes here by the latter part of I'^l >ruary, and S'^nn becoming one of the most numerous birds of the season, he gives hardly anything worthy to be called a song till near the first of April. Then his loud, clear warble, if somewhat monotonous and less expressive of sentiment than that of the Wood-thrush or the Hermit, is a most grateful breaking of the stillness of winter, a mitigation of sharp frosts and chill showers — April showers always tune him up — a never-failing promise of all the joy and plenty of the year. Then truly he makes "the outgoings of the even- ing and the morning to rejoice." What would an American spring be without the song of the Robin ? The ragged and faded appearance of the Robin in mid- summer, after the excessive cares incident to the rearing of two or three families, is but a poor apology for his modest but truly beautiful colors of dark-gray, black and golden- brown, in these days of early spring. Even Mrs. Robin, though not so dark and rich in tints as h^.r consort, is a real model of plain and tasteful elegance. The farmer or gardener, notwithstanding certain reminis- cences of destruction of ripe cherries and luscious strawber- ries, cannot but be convinced of the friendship and co-oper- J.1: 104 THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. ^ ation of the Robin, as he sees him scouring meadows and pastures in search of insects in general. It would be impossible to estimate his labors in keeping in check the voraciousness of insect-life. In this locality Robin's beautiful blue-green eggs, from three to five, may be laid already by the middle of April; the nest being a rough affair of stubble, coarse hay and mud, , lined with finer hay, and placed anywhere between the ground and the top of a tree. The young resemble the old, except that the breast is pale and spotted with black and white. The parents are very noisy in defense of their nest or young. Already in September the Robins begin to gather, with a great deal of hurry, and bustle, and noise, and, flying to and fro, in preparation for their southward migration, continue their leave-taking in companies till late in the fall. On the bright October evenings of last year (1879), when the cloudless sky wore every tint of rose, violet, orange, yellow, and green, all most delicately shaded into each other from horizon to zenith, I used to lie down in the field and w^tch the Robins constantly passing south, with steady stroke of wing and high in air, sometimes singly, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in small companies. Some 9-10 inches long; upper parts generally dark- gray; head and tail blackish; spots around the eye, under the chin and on the tips of the outer tail-feathers, and the vent white; breast and under parts golden-brown. This bird is characteristic of all North America, and to the south extends a little beyond. In mild winters it may remain with us in sheltered places. THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. It is the 5th of March, and I am in the woods on a most THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 105 sad errand. A dear friend, and in every way a most noble man, has been instantly killed by a falling tree, and, desir- ous to know every possible particular concerning the event, = ( THE RBD-BELLIBD WOODPBCKBR. I am carefully studying the spot. Looking up into the tall tree-tops, whence came the fatal limb, my mind is, if possible, momentarily diverted by the sight of a bird seldom seen in this locality, or in any of the more northern districts, though it is said to be very common south of 35°. It is the Red-bellied Woodpecker {Centurus carolinus)^ the most beautiful of all the smaller species of its tribe in this locality. This is a fine male. Somewhat larger than the Hairy Voodpecker, some 10 long and 17 in extent, he has a broad strip of glossy crimson, extending from the bill '' *.i 106 THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER, over the head and hind neck, the rest of the head, neck and under parts a beautiful light-ash color, with a tinge of red on the belly, whence the common name; the upper parts jet-black, with fine concentric lines and rows of spots of pure white; eyes red. The female differs mainly in the absence of the red on the top of the head, that mark extend- ing only up the back of the neck to the occiput. This bird has a hoarse note, resembling chaw^ chaWy and has a nest and eggs like those of the rest of the Wood- peckers. It is a common resident throughout the year in Northeastern Ohio, where I have seen its nest about the middle of May. CHAPTER VII. THE BOTFF AND THE CAT-TAILS. BEFORE studying the matter, it v iidd Aot occur to one how different the plants and animals are the'tvoiid over. Each individual has its particular locality or habitat. Sometimes, as in the case of certain species of Humming- birds, that habitat is a single island or mountain; again, as in the case of the Duck Hawk or Osprey, it is, in its various allied forms, nearly or quite cosmopolitical. Generally, however, great mountains and seas or changes of climate bound these habitats. For instance, in Eastern North America we have a certain set of birds, extending from the Atlantic Coast westward to the Rocky Mountains; blit from this great mountain system, running north and south the entire length of the continent, to the Pacific Coast, there is found another set, generally more or less allied to ours indeed, but for the most part specifically different Again, we have certain species peculiar to the northern, and others peculiar to the southern, latitudes ; and between the plants and animals of the several continents, the difference is gener- ally very great. What is true of space, in this respect, is still truer of time. In respect to the fauna of the various geological ages, the differentiation is indeed immense. But all these vast varieties of form are built on certain fixed plans of structure. The great classes, orders, and families have their representatives everywhere; and, while these types of »# K)8 THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. Structure have been generally progfressive in the order of time, in the lower forms of animal life there are some genera which seem to have stood almost from the first dawn of life to the present time. A careful bound- ing of the localities occupied by the various animals and plants constitutes the science of their geographical distri- bution. In respect to the g^eat class of birds, the whole world has its Owls, Hawks, Vulturesi, Sparrows, Shrikes, Starling^, etc. ; but the species differs in different parts of the world. THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. In the most typical sense the Starlings are confined to the Old World; but, by a little broader generalization, many birds of our own country may be included under that THB RBD-WINCBD BLACKBIRD. head. For instance, on this 7th of March, as I stand just south of a bluff, by the margin, of a cat-tail swamp, I see a large flock of the so-called Red-winged Starlings or Blackr THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 100 birds {Agg/aus phaniceus). They are sometimes here a week earlier, and are always partial to the cat-tails. Indeed, this species is strictly an ornament and appurte- nance of the swamp. The male, somewhat smaller than a Robin, 8 or 9 inches long, is clad in a rich jet-black from tip to toe, except the shoulders of his wings, which are of a bright glossy-scarlet, with a margin of light orange. He is a strikingly beautiful object on this gray and naked landscape of the early spring. How spirited, too, he seems, as he steps and flits about, jerking his tail, uttering his familiar chucky chucky chuck^ and every now and then adding his distinctive " o-kal-ree-e-e-e-e-ee" or " lo-kal-o-ree-e-e-e-e-ee** Until the arrival of the female, which may not occur for several weeks, he will appear exceedingly uneasy. About this time he will take some conspicuous position in the leafless trees or bushes, and spreading his wings and tail by a jerking motion, and waltzing back and forth, and bowing most gracefully, his wonted song becomes more liquid and clear, interspersed with an occasional rattling sound, ending in a loud, clear whistle. In color, the female is very unlike her mate. Of a rich dark-brown, each feather is margined with light-brown or brownish-white, the margins being broadest and lightest on the breast and underneath, thus making those parts appear noticeably lighter. The young male is similar to the female, except that the margin of the dark-brown feathers are ruddy, and the shoulders of the wings of a beautiful red, mixed with black. The young female is somewhat lighter than the mother. In the autumn, when the black plumage of the mature males is more or less fringed with light-brown, the whole family make a truly beautiful g^oup. Early in May the nest is built somewhere in or about a swamp, generally near the ground, but sometimes in a bush i 1 * I i no THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. or even in a tree; in my locality, for the most part, among the cat-tails. I found the nests very abundant on St. Clair Flats, built in the sedges over the water. It is a basket- like structure, composed outwardly of coarse, flexible mate- rials— commonly the dried leaves of the cat-tails and sedges of the previous year — fastened near the base of the old stalks still standing, and lined with fine dried grasses, or occasionally with horse-hair. It belongs to the style of bird-structures called "basket-hests." In this little swamp I have sometimes found a nest every few rods, or even every few feet. Then it is interesting to note the difference between the several sets of eggs. Frequently more than an inch long, they are often much less; now larger and quite pointed, and now roundish; the delicate tinge of green which makes the ground-color is darker or lighter; the markings, in the form of pen-dashes, dots and blotches, thick and heavy, or light and few, scattered over the entire surface, in a wreath near the middle, or in a bunch at the large end. These odd markings appear like the written symbols of some strange language. The Red-wings gener- ally breed more or less in communities. As with the rest of the Icteridae family, the male is not accustomed to take the nest, but is most assiduously attentive to the female during incubation. Sometimes two broods are raised in a season in this locality, the eggs of the first being laid in May and those of the second in July. In spring and early summer the destruction of insect-life by the Red-winged Blackbirds is incalculable. Of this every far- mer must be convinced, as he observes the flocks which search the pastures and plowed grounds. The breeding season over, they gather in immense noisy flocks, and are exceedingly de- structive to corn and other grains; but, probably, in nowise counteract the good they do in the earlier part of the year. THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. Ill On the winter history of this bird in the Southern States, Wilson has a very fine paragraph: " The Red-winged Star- lings, though generally migratory in the states north of Maryland, are found during winter in immense, flocks some- times associated with the Purple Grakles, and often by themselves, along the whole lower parts of Virginia, both Carolinas, Georgia and Louisiana, particularly near the sea- coast, and in the vicinity of large rice and corn fields. In the months of January and February, while passing through the former of these countries, I was frequently entertained with the aerial evolutions of these great bodies of Starlings. Sometimes they appeared driving about like an enormous black cloud carried before the wind, varying its shape every moment; sometimes suddenly rising from the fields around me with a noise like thunder; while the glittering of innu- merable wings of the brightest vermilion amid the black cloud they formed produced on these occasions a very striking and splendid effect. Then, descending like a tor- rent, and covering the branches of some detached grove, or clump of trees, the whole congregated multitude commenced one general concert or chorus, that I have plainly distin- guished at the distance of more than two miles, and, when listened to at the intermediate space of about a quarter of a mile, with a slight bi'eeze of wind to swell and soften the flow of its cadences, was to me grand, and even sublime. The whole season of winter that, with most birds, is passed in struggling to sustain life in silent melancholy, is, with the Red-wings, one continued carnival. The profuse gleanings of the old rice, corn, and buckwheat fields supply them with abundant food, at once ready and nutritious; and the inter- mediate time is spent either in aerial maneuvers or in grand vocal performances, as if solicitous to supply the absence of all the tuneful summer tribes, and to cheer the ■■jN \ - 112 THE CROW BLACKBIRD, dejected face of nature with their whole combined powers of harmony." Habitat: " The typical form throughout temperate North America, and south to Central America. Breeds in suitable places from Texas to the Saskatchawan, and along the whole Atlantic Coast. Winters from about 36** southward." (Coues). The Yellow-headed Blackbird is a western species, some- times straggling eastward even to New England. I THE CROW BLACKBIRD. The bluff above referred to is well clad with sumacs, dogwoods, elders, etc. Here, on this same 7th of March, but more particularly along the creek a few rods away, are small flocks of the Purple Grakle, or Crow Blackbird {Quisca- luspurpureus). They fly slowly from one bush to another, from the bluff to the bushes along the creek, and then back to the bluff again, their tails, folded downward in the middle, being very conspicuous, and their constant chucky chuck very like that of the Red-wing, only in a little hoarser tone and on a lower key. Like the latter, the former are quite partial to swamps and streams^ but are not quite so confined to them, for they are frequently common about country door-yards and village lots, especially such as abound in evergreens. They are often abundant in cemeteries which are well orna- mented with coniferae. If cat-tails are to be associated with the Red-wings, evergreens are to be quite as much associated with the Crow Blackbirds. Often, indeed, they affect the shadowy recesses of the thickly-branched Lom- bardy poplars. As the plowman turns his furrow this bird forms a part of the newly-made landscape. Stepping along the fresh, brown ridges with a peculiar gracefulness, his brilliant hues, with a bright, metallic lustre, cannot fail to THE CROW BLACKBIRD. 118 delight the eye. Blue, emerald, purple, and bronze, all gleam and flash interchangeably in the sunshine. How quick are those light-golden eyes to detect grubs, beetles, chrysalids and worms! The male being about 12 inches or more in length, the female is a good deal smaller, and for the most part of a plain black, being wholly without the lustre and changeableness of the male. In early spring they often gather in quite large flocks, chattering and whistling in a manner thoroughly noisy, if not somewhat musical. Their nest — made early in May, if not already in April, and a rather bulky structure of sticks and coarse hay, more particularly the latter, often cemented with mud, lined with fine hay and some horse-hair — is placed either low or high in a tree, an evergreen or Lombardy poplar being preferred; and if the tree is large, it may contain a number of nests. Wilson says: "A singular attachment frequently takes place between this bird and the Fish Hawk. The nest of this latter is of very large dimensions, often from three to four feet in breadth, and from four to five feet high; composed, externally, of large sticks, or fagots, among the interstices of which sometimes three or four pairs of Crow Blackbirds will construct their nests, while the Hawk is sitting or hatching above. Here each pursues the duties of incubation and of rearing its young; living in the greatest harmony, and mutually watching and protecting each other's property from depredators." In the south Audubon says the nests of these Blackbirds are generally placed in holes of trees — often in a deserted Woodpecker's nest. The same manner of nesting has recently been reported from some parts of the north. The eggs of the Crow Blackbird, some 1.20 X .82, and four or five in number, are generally greenish, sometimes 8 M f' 114 THE CROW BLACKBIRD. brownish, or of a dirty white, specked, spotted, scratched and blotched, sometimes thickly, sometimes sparingly, with light brown, or black. It seldom raises more than one brood here. As to this bird's destructiveness in the corn-field, every one has heard and seen enough. Hence the merciless slaughter which he meets, and the dangling of his dead body in terrorem. But if we are not to " muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn," let us take heed, lest we grudge the Blackbird his corn unfairly. Some of the late ornithologists, however, affirm that this bird, a near relative to the Crow in habit as well as in appearance, is given to sucking other birds' eggs and eating their young. If this be generally proven against him he will smell more gunpowder than ever before. The Crow Blackbirds find their winter residence in the Southern States. " Here," according to Wilson, " numerous bodies, collecting together from all quarters of the interior and northern districts, and darkening the air with their numbers, sometimes form one congregated multitude of many hundred thousands. A few miles from the banks of the Roanoke, on the 20th of January, I met with one of those prodigious armies of Grakles. They rose from the surrounding fields with a noise like thunder, and, descend- ing on the length of road before me, covered it and the fences completely with black; and when they again rose, and, after a few evolutions, descended on the skirts of the high-timbered woods, at that time destitute of leaves, they produced a most singular and striking effect; the whole trees for a considerable extent, from the top to the lowest branches, seemed as if hung in mourning; their notes and screaming the meanwhile resembling the distant sound of a great cataract, but in more musical cadence, swelling and THE CEDAR BIRD. 115 dying away on the ear, according to the fluctuations of the breeze." Habitat: Eastern North America, north to Labrador, west to the Rocky Mountains, breeding throughout its range. I saw none in Manitoulin Island and vicinity As to the so-called Bronzed Grakle {Quiscalus purpureus aneus\ now differentiated by some, and supposed to breed a little further north than the last described, I have had no opportunity of discriminating. If, indeed, it be different from the Common Crow Blackbird, it must be very similar.. The Boat-tailed Grakle of the south {Quiscalus major) is scarcely more than the former on a larger pattern. About 16.00 long, it is about one-fourth larger, and its habits are very similar. The flight is slow, straightforward, the heavy boat-shaped tail seeming to tip the bird up in front. It is noisy, and partial to the vicinity of water, often wading for its molluscous diet. Its nests, which are in community after the manner of its congener here and also its corvine relations in the old world, is sometimes placed in a bush or tree, but commonly in the tall saw-grass of the southern marshes. The structure is large and coarse, is tied to the grass-stems about four feet from the ground, and generally contains three eggs, similar to those of the Crow Black- bird, but larger — about 1.27 X .86. It winters in the extreme Southern States, and reaches regularly the Carolinas in summer. THE CEDAR BIRD. On the top of the bluff stands the first row of trees of a large orchard. On one of these alights a flock of birds, sometimes found here in small numbers even in winter, but always appearing in flocks very early in spring. There are some forty of them, and they move with the regularity of a perfectly disciplined army, flying as compactly as pos- ^1 116 THE CEDAR BIRD, sible, and all having precisely the same motion, and alight- ing so similarly that the attitude of one is the attitude of the whole flock. Few things in the movement of bird-life are more interesting than this perfect uniformity of motion of a group of Cedar Birds (Ampelis cedrorum)^ as if one life directed them all. How spirited and graceful they are! Some six or seven inches long, slender, beautifully crested, the plum- age remarkably blended and glossy; in color, a rich brown, becoming reddish on the breast and about the head; chin, forehead, and band across the eyes to occiput, black, partly margined with a line of white; belly, yellow; under tail coverts, white; wings, rump and tail, bluish-drab; darker toward the end of the tail, which is margined with bright sulphur-yellow; secondaries, generally tipped with flattened appendages, the color of bright-red sealing-wax. The female is similar to the male, and the young differ but little. Occasionally an old male is found with red, wax-like tips on the tail feathers, or even on some of the feathers of the crest. As I watch the flock in the bright, warm sunshine they become more careless in attitude and motion, and presently become fly-catchers, making little circuits after their prey, and seeming rather drowsy, for them. This fly-catching is quite indicative of their habit in part; for despite their frugivorous propensities, they destroy no small number of insects at certain seasons of the year, especially the larvae of the Canker Worm. . Watch these same Cedar Birds in some secluded dell affording a rocky stream — watch them in the delicious quiet and ruddy glow of the evening. How gracefully they alight on the larger rocks rising above the surface of the water; and, standing almost straight, with crests erect, how noiselessly they describe their elegant circles in the THE CEDAR BIRD. 117 midst of clouds of gnats and midges. You hear no snap- ping of the bill, as in the case of Fly-catchers similarly engaged, but each little detour signifies the destruction of one or more of these tiny insects. This imitation of the Fly-catchers the farmer will scarcely admit, as he recalls the more destructive habits of this bird, how he appears singly, or in large numbers, on the sweet cherry-tree of early summer, pilfers blackberries and rasp- berries, strips the rich, ornamental clusters from the mountain ash; in short, V s himself with fruit to the very throat, even dropping and dying, in some cases, of sheer gluttony — all this without the least apology for a song — nothing in the way of a note but a sly tseep, tseep^ scarcely loud enough to be a warning to the ordinary ear — nothing, in short, to recommend him but his graceful carriage and fine clothes, unless, indeed, the ornithologist can vindicate him as a " fly-catcher " and " worm-eater," and so secure a balance of sentiment in his favor. This vindication we believe to be possible. At any rate, as a beautiful ornament in nature, he is entitled to some support, especially by those who regard " a thing of beauty a joy forever." I never could justify a certain old gentleman of my acquaintance who shot eighty of these "orchard beauties" from a single sweet cherry-tree in a few hours. I would rather have set out more cherry-trees. Strange to say, though this bird is here among the first, and in large flocks, some few even remaining through the winter, it does not ordinarily begin a nest till late in June or in July, perhaps because the favorite fruits on which it feeds its young, after a course of insects in their earliest babyhood, are not sooner available. This nest is generally in a tree in the orchard, and is rather bulky and coarsely built for so trim a bird, being composed outwardly of small i( 118 THE CEDAR BIRD. Sticks and coarse glasses; inwardly, of sprigs of larch, fine, dried grasses, or horse-hair, quite a little wool, or vegetable down, being occasionally used, or even a large quantity of fine rootlets. The eggs, 4 or 5, some .82 x -32, are light- green, or dinghy white, specked and spotted with dark purple and black. I once found a young one, fuU-gp'own, held to the nest by a horse-hair, which had grown into the foot. It had the waxen tips on its wings, showing that this peculiarity is not wholly a matter of age. CHAPTER VIII. ALONG THE CREEK. P)|0 you know that the Wild Geese are here?" inquired a LJ friend of mine at Oak Orchard Creek, on the even- ing of the 16th of March. "I fired into a large flock in the wheat-field to-day and killed two." "Indeed! I am aware that they are quite destructive to the wheat-fields for some four or five weeks in early spring, all along the south of Lake Ontario," I replied. The Canada, or Common Wild Goose (Branta canadensis)^ is the one referred to; and the two specimens, male and female, are now mounted and before me in my study. The male is some 38 inches, and the female some 34 inches in length, thus appearing considerably larger than the com- mon domestk Goose. The general color is a rich, dark- gray, the plamage edged with lighter; bill, head, neck, lower back, tips of wings, tail, and feet, black; patch across the throat and up the sides of the head, and sometimes the upper breast, grayish- white; vent and coverts at the root of the tail, pure white. There is not a more characteristic bird in all North America. Moving northward in large, noisy flocks in spring, and southward in a similar manner in autumn, it is the sure herald of the departure of the Ice King, as well as of his return. Who does not know of the Wild Goose? — that it is the most sensitive of all ou: rnimated nature to 120 THE CANADA GOOSE. the great changes of temperature about to take place; that it is surely an evil omen, in the dubious days of spring, to see it retracing its course southward. The beautiful mili- tary order of the flight of these birds — how, under the direction of some accepted leader, they move now in form of a straight line, now in the manner of an angle of varia- ble degrees, every now and then some of them changing positions, that the stronger and fresher may take its turn in clearing the air, while the weaker and more weary take the advantage of the wake — must be familiar to all who have at all observed these grand movements. The confused '* hanking," '' clanging " notes, too, which seem almost to keep time with the beat of wings, must be equally familiar. In Western New York, at present, the Canada Goose is simply a migrant, except as it '' occasionally nests at large in the United States" (Coues), where in former times its nidification was common. (Audubon.) These birds come in flocks from the south into our lake counties of Western New York soon after the middle of March, and remain with us some 4-6 weeks. During this time they may be seen almost constantly riding on the water near the shores of Lake Ontario. At day-break, and again in the afternoon, they fly inland to feed in wheat-fields on the tender, succulent blades, or in the richer meadows. On leaving the lake they are silent, but fill the air with their clangor on returning. By the utmost vigilance a few are shot; but they generally alight on some eminence where there is a good outlook in every direction, and some wary gander is constantly on the alert. The Canada Goose breeds more or less commonly in Lab- rador and to the northward. Mr. James Fortiscue says of their breeding about York Factory, Hudson's Bay: " Hatch everywhere, up in woods and swamps; nests made of sticks and hay, lined with feathers." ■■i THE CANADA GOOSE. 121 In the extreme Northwestern States it is said to breed in trees. It is now known to breed abundantly in the North- west Territory, especially along the Assinniboin River with its many tributaries. It usually makes its nest on the ground, near some stream or sheet of water, often on secluded island's in larger rivers. One nest found by Audubon " was placed on the stump of a large tree stand- ing in the center of a small pond, about twenty feet high, and contained five eggs." The same author says: "The greatest number of eggs which I have found in the nest of this species was nine, which I think is more by three than these birds usually lay in a wild state." Again: "The eggs measure, on an average, 3.50 X 2.50, are thick- shelled, rather smooth, and of a very dull yellowish- green color. The period of incubation is twenty-eight days. They never have more than one brood in a season, unless their eggs are removed or broken at an early period. The young follow their parents to the water a day or two after they have issued from the egg, but generally return to land to repose in the sunshine in the evening, and pass the night there under their mother, who employs all imaginable care to insure their comfort and safety, as does her mate, who never leaves her during incubation for a longer time than is necessary for procuring food, and takes her place at intervals. Both remain with their brood until the following spring. It is during the breeding season that the gander displays his courage and strength to the greatest advantage. I knew one that appeared larger than usual, and of which all the lower parts were of a rich cream-color. It returned three years in succession to a large pond a few miles from the mouth of Green River, in Kentucky, and whenever I visited the nest it seemed to look upon me with utter contempt. It would stand in a stately atti- 122 THE CANADA GOOSE. tude until I reached within a it,^ yards of the nest, when, suddenly lowering its head, and shaking it as if it were dislocated from the neck, it would open its wings and launch into the air, flying directly at me. So daring was this fine fellow, that in two instances he struck me a blow with one of his wing^ on the right arm, which, for an instant, I thought was broken. I observed that immediately after such an effort to defend his nest and mate, he would run swiftly towards them, pass his head and neck several times over and around the female, and again assume his attitude of defiance." The same author says: " It is extremely amusing to wit- ness the courtship of the Canada Goose in all its stages; and let me assure you, reader, that although a gander does not strut before his beloved with the pomposity of a Turkey, or the grace of a Doye, his ways are quite as agreeable to the female of his choice. I can imagine before me one who has just accomplished the defeat of another male after a struggle of half an hour or more. He advances gallantly towards the object of his attention, his head scarcely raised an inch from the ground, his bill open to its full stretch, his fleshy tongue elevated, his eyes darting fiery glances, and as he moves he hisses loudly, while the emotion which he experiences causes his quills to shake, and his feathers to rustle. Now he is close to her who, in his eyes, is all loveliness, his neck bending gracefully in all directions, , passes all around her, and occasionally touches her body; and as she congratulates him on his victory, and acknowl- edges his affection, they move their necks in a hundred curious ways. At this moment fierce jealousy urges the defeated gander to renew his efforts to obtain his love; he advances apace, his eye glowing with the fire of rage; he shakes his broad wings, ruffles up his whole plumage, and THE CANADA GOOSE. 123 as he rushes on the foe, hisses with the intensity of anger. The whole flock seems to stand amazed, and opening up a space, the birds gather round to view the combat. The bold bird, who has been caressing his mate, scarcely deigns to take notice of his foe, but seems to send a scornful glance towards him, He of the mortified feelings, however, raises his body, half opens his sinewy wings, and with a powerful blow, sends forth his defiance. The affront cannot be borne in the presence of so large a company, nor indeed is there much disposition to bear it in any circumstances; the blow is returned with vigor, the aggressor reels for a moment, but he soon recovers, and now the combat rages. Were the weapons more deadly, feats of chivalry would now be per- formed; as it is, thrust and blow succeed each other like the strokes of hammers driven by sturdy forgers. But now, the mated gander has caught hold of his antagonist's head with his bill; no bull-dog could cling faster to his victim; he squeezes him with all the energy of rage, lashes him with his powerful wings, and at length drives him away, spreads out his pinions, runs with joy to his mate, and fills the air with cries of exultation." D. H. Bunn, a man well capable of telling what he sees, reports the following incident, as occurring in Madison County, New York, some twenty years ago: During a night of thick fog In early spring, a flock of geese passing over, twenty-five of them struck against a large factory. Lodging near by, he heard the blow, roused his companions, and they went out with lanterns. In a sort of alder-swamp, on that side of the building which the birds had encountered, they found the stunned and disconcerted creatures hanging entangled in the alders, or splashing about the water; and after being well pinched and bitten, and soundly thumped by their powerful wings, the party succeeded in capturing them. '? 124 THE MALLARD. The Canada Goose spends the winter in large flocks, in the middle and more southern portions of our continent. A variety of this same species, called Hutchin's Goose, is sparingly found to the eastward, and is very abundant in the northwest. Mr. Fortiscue thinks there are not less than four closely-allied species of this kind of goose at Hudson's Bay. THE MALLARD. March 17th, on a bright sunny morning after a light fall of snow, I wandered along Oak Orchard Creek — a purling stream some three or four rods in width — and found the Mallard {Anas boschas\ and the Dusky or Black Duck {Anas obscura)^ in considerable numbers. The former — a bird of the stream and lake rather than of the sea — is found very sparingly in New England and immediately to the north- ward, but plentifully from New York southward, especially in Florida, in winter; and it is abundant in the far north- west in summer. As it moves smoothly and gracefully along the quiet stream, or rises in flight, or more especially as it almost hovers overhead in the presence of danger, it is a truly beautiful object. The rich glossy-gfreen of the neck of the male, his yellow bill and legs, the rich vinous-brown of his breast, and the gray of his under parts, the pure white tail of gracefully-pointed feathers, ornamented by the recurved upper tail coverts of glossy-green or purple, are simply resplendent in the bright morning sun, so intensified by the reflection from the pure sparkling sheet of snow. As he is brought down, so that one can examine the deep b i k of the lower back, the delicately-penciled gray of his . ulders, scapulars and tertiaries, all set off by his dark V) 1^ with its beauty spot of green or violet margined with black arid white, one concludes that his brilliancy is scarcely surpassed by anything on our waters. He seems by con- THE MALLARD. 125 trast to be more complete, too, when by the side of his female of plainer beauty — her plumage being rich brown margined with lighter, chin and throat whitish, beauty spot nearly as in the male. " Nearly cosmopolitan, and nearly everywhere domesticated," breeding more or less sparingly throughout the United States, and more particularly to the north, the Mallard mates in winter and in early spring; and builds a nest of coarse materials in the marsh, lining it, if far north, with down from its breast so plentifully that the eggs, some eight to a dozen, and of a delicate or sometimes dingy greenish-white, can be covered with the same on leaving them. On St. Clair Flats, where I found the Mallard breeding quite commonly, the nest, which might be built in the sedges over the water, but more commonly on a knoll or against a log in the flooded marsh or among the bushes on the highest ridges, never contained much down. If the number of eggs were incomplete, or they were fresh-laid, and therefore the entire nest as yet imperfect, there was no down at all. The elegant green tint is quite peculiar to the ^%% of this Duck. Unlike the Geese, but like other Ducks and the Mergan- sers, as well as some other water-birds, the male now leaves the female to care for her eggs and her young family alone, while he, along with other heartless husbands and fathers of the same kind, spends the remainder of the breeding season in leisurely roaming, unless, indeed, the female lose her nest, and then she goes in search of the male. The female meanwhile is most signally faithful to her charge. She will remain on the nest till almost trodden upon, and then often alighting near by, will stretch out her neck, spread her tail, and flap her wings on the water, in a manner equal to the arts of the little Waders when similarly disturbed. ISO THE MALLARD. " I have found the Mallard," says Audubon, " breeding on large, prostrate and rotten logs, three feet above the ground, and in the center of a canebrake, nearly a mile distant from any water. Once I found a female leading her young through the woods, and no doubt conducting them towards the .Ohio. When I first saw her she had already observed me, and had squatted fiat among the grass, with her brood around her. As I moved onwards, she ruffled her feathers, and hissed at me in the manner of a goose, while the little ones scampered off in all directions. I had an excellent dog, well instructed to catch young birds without injuring them, and I ordered him to seek for them. On this the mother took wing, and fiew through the woods as if about to fall down at every yard or so. She passed and repassed over the dog, as if watching the success of his search; and as one after another the ducklings were brought to me and struggled in my bird-bag, the distressed parent came to the ground near me, rolled and tumbled about, and so affected me by her despair that I ordered my dog to lie down, while, with a pleasure that can be felt only by those who are parents themselves, I restored to her the innocent brood and walked off. As I turned round to observe her, I really thought I could perceive gratitude expressed in her eye; and a happier moment I never felt while rambling in search of knowledge through the woods." The voice of the Mallard, and its manner of feeding by immersing its head and neck, or by tipping perpendicularly half out and half under the water, are so well illustrated by the domestic Duck as to need no explanation here. Suffice it to say, this is one of those members of the animal creation which have ministered incalculably to the comfort and sup- port of man. THE DUSKY DUCK, 127 THE DUSKY DUCK. Screened by a small hemlock on the bank of the creek, I hp •^e a good view of a flock of some dozen Dusky, or Black Ducks, as they fly up the stream. They are very large, and look quite dark, except the under side of the wings, which is white, and which gives a fine effect in flight. How great the rapidity and momentum of that flight is we have but little idea, till the bird, ceasing the rapid strokes of its wings, and bending them downward like the arcs of a circle, prepares to alight. Then that smooth body, with out- stretched head and neck, and wings which cut the air like sabers, like a huge arrow rushes through the air; and it must sail some distance before the force of its momentum is sufliciently spent to allow it to reach the earth in safety. A few rods above me these Ducks drop gracefully down, striking the water so easily, and parting it with such a pretty plash, as to impress me with the beauty possible to motion, and with the tranquil happiness of these creatures in their undisturbed haunts. The stream being shallow, they can easily reach their food by plunging their heads, in which act they throw up their feet and hinder parts in a manner quite amusing. They plunge, dart around in a hurry-skurry manner, straighten out their necks and flap their wings, thus seeming to sit almost on their tails on the water; and, finally getting a glimpse of me, they rush out of the water into the air with a splashing that brings me to my feet; and I fire, bringing down a fine pair, which I readily secure as they float down stream by wading in with my long rubber-boots. About two feet long, of a dark brown, the feathers edged with lighter, the beauty spot a rich violet, the male and female about alike, this species cannot easily be mistaken. It is by far the most common Duck in this locality, being really abundant in the migra- iWlIf i'l 1 If: I 128 THE DUSKY DUCK. tions, and quite a few remaining to breed in suitable places. When passing north in spring, sometimes in single pairs, sometimes in groups of pairs, they seem to tarry for a few weeks, selecting certain feeding grounds — shallow pools and ditches about the fields — to which they attend regu- larly, unless seriously disturbed. Like the Mallards, they are particularly Ducks of the ponds and the puddle-holes. Here, by proper caution in the use of some screen, they may be easily shot, especially about day-break. These Ducks, as also the Mallards, are occasionally seen in enor- mous flocks in early spring on submerged grain-fields of the previous year, in the vicinity of Tonawanda Swamp, a large territory extending along the southern border of this county (Orleans), and many miles beyond. On the 7th of last April (1881), the Ducks flew in great num- bers in these flooded regions. I was watching them from a retired point of view. * They flew mostly in pairs, and were nearly all of the species I am now describing. I noticed that they all made for a certain corner of a flooded field which was nearly surrounded by a forest. They would fly in g^and circles around it and at a considerable height for some time, and having thus thoroughly surveyed the ground, would sail with down-curved wings till the great momentum of their speed was broken, and then drop down gradually, holding the body in an oblique position, and flapping the wings forward just as a bird does in hovering^ thus alighting easily and gracefully. Being curious to see the place of rendezvous, I crept stealthily around to one side of it, but before I could get within gunshot the Ducks rose en masse. There must have been many hun- dreds, and the noise of their wings was like the roll of thunder. I hid behind the fence, thinking they might return; but these Ducks are very shy, and gave me no THE DUSKY DUCK. 1S9 opportunity for ft shot that evening. I watched for them the next morning before daylight, but it had frozen hard, and they had all disappeared. Where had they gone ? I went to Lake Ontario the same day, but could not find them. Being on the ground again a week later, and being curi- ous to know where the Ducks spent the night, I was advised to push my boat into a flooded region of a thick second growth of varied trees and bushes of the lowlands, about sundown, and watch their movements. As the rosy tints of sunset were fadiug out of the sky, the Ducks, nearly all of the kind now under review, began to circle over the spot; and every now and then a pair would drop down after the manner of alighting above described, and with a sharp flutter and rustle of the wings, reach the water with a heavy splash. They continued to come until dark, large numbers thus spending the night floating on these quiet waters in the security of the trees and the bushes. Before day the next morning I was at the favorite ren- dezvous where I had seen so many Ducks the week before. As the cold sky of the night began to assume the soft golden hues of the coming morning — a change which takes place quite suddenly — the Ducks began to arrive. This time there was none of that cautious reconnoitering of the place, which is common to these birds at other times of day. I could hear them squaking, without any reserve whatever, some time before they reached the spot, and as they arrived, they immediately dropped down in their flut- tering, rustling manner, the sound of which, coming so near my screen by a tree in the open field, had a very exciting effect upon me in this deep light of the morn- ing. To watch their sprightly and happy movements in this state of perfect freedom was well worth all the incon- venience of rising early, walking far and shivering in the 9 in s» in-- k It 4 u H 130 THE DVSKY DUCK. cold. As the morning light became clear, I could see a pair of Mallards in the crowd; the rest were all Dusky Ducks. None, however, were near enough for a shot; and as the light intensified, and my screen was noted as a new addition to the landscape, on a slight squaking signal by one es- pecially on the alert, they all left with a rush. On the 22d of last September I was at Lake Ontario. The Dusky Ducks were there in immense numbers. Through the glass I could see a flock of several hundreds a few miles out from the shore. They sat on the water, as the hunters say, in great windrows. The lake was smooth, but there was a gentle, undulating motion of the water; and the whole flock, with here and there a sentinel on the alert, were resting with their bills under their scapulars, as if asleep. The glass was powerful, bringing the birds imme- diately before me; and the sight was as serenely happy as one could wish to see in the varied and delightful domain of nature. Presently one of the crowd yawned and stretched itself upright, and flapped its wings joyously on the water, and all followed the example, making a great fluttering cloud of darkness on the gleaming surface. Now they began to shoot about among each other in a most hurried manner, as regularly, however, as men and women would cut figures in a dance, and thus makin^:^ one of the most spirited and gleeful impressions. Then they would all quiet down again, and ride gracefuriy on the gently moving waters, their heads drawn closely on their breasts, as if in the most complete repose. Like the Mallard, the Dusky Duck tecuc. on small mol- lusks, roots, and grain, and will not disdain a lizard or a mouse; and, like the Mallard, it is particularly a fresh- wa^er Duck, though it is not infrequently found about the borders of the ocean. THE DUSKY DUCK. 181 Never shall I forget my childish glee on finding a flock of these Ducks just hatched, following the mother in the woods near a wild meadow. They were a dark olive, almost black on the head and back. The old Duck seemed quite tame, and the little ones did not try very hard to escape. Filling my hat with them, I hurried home, but was soon obliged to hurry back, as my mother did not approve of my enterprise. A few months ago (1883), while visiting the old paternal farm, I was again diverted by a flock of these same young Ducks. The female rose from a mud-hole in the wild meadow with a great splutter; and, standing still, I began to look about me for the young. For some time I could see nothing of them, they were so nearly the color of the mud and the drabbled grass. By and by my eye caught one which must have been fully ten days old, sitting perfectly motionless in the water, which filled a cow's track in the mud. Looking a little to one side I saw two more snuggled together in a like dish of water, then another and another, and still another — ail sitting so motionless that I do not think they even winked. Thinking that I had looked at them long enough I stepped forward, when, two more start- ing up, they all hurried away helter-skelter into the bushes. The Dusky Duck ranges through Eastern North America to Labrador, and, breeding more or less throughput, but more especially to the north, is strictly an American species. The nest, built on the ground, generally near the v:ater, sometimes in a tussock of grass, sometimes sunk into the moss, or even placed on a moss-covered rock or on the top of a decayed log, is composed of dried grasses and various vegetable substances, the edge being well surrounded with down and feathers if incubation be well advanced, and so the nest complete, thus giving it a peculiar, dark appearance. I- 132 THE SONG SPARROW. The eggs, some eight in number, are about 2.38 x LS*?* very nearly the size and shape of a common hen's egg, the surface being of an opaque smoothness, and of a uniform brownish tint, sometimes, indeed, of an elegant greenish, or even reddish shade, the fresh egg seeming fairly translucent. Generally, however, the eggs, like those of the Ducks in general, are much soiled and disfigured from the bird's entering the nest directly from the riled water and the mud. ' * ■ hi - THE SONG SPARROW. The sun is now well up, and the thin sheet of snow is melting rapidly. There is such a mingling of spring warmth and winter sunshine as makes the day particularly bright and suggestive. The reflection of every ray of the clearest sun by the clean sheet of new snow so intensifies the light that it seems as if a diffused lightning had become fixed — as if the very atmosphere were transfigured. Every breath takes in a reeking moisture, the air vibrates on the hills as in summer heat, and the rippling and purling of the stream is hurried and full. The earth will come out of this snow as from a warm bath, everything freshened and quickened as by a summer rain. All along the flats about the creek, from the clp.iups of bushes, from the thickets, and from the edges of the fore Us, come the loud and ring- ing notes of the Song Sparrow {Melospiza melodiu). Except the creaking melody of the Horned Lark, heard fully a month earlier, or possibly the simultaneous warbling note of the Bluebird, this is our first noticeable bird-song of the year. On the most disagreeable days of late February or early March, when the air has that peculiar chill caused by the slow melting of snow and ice, or a rain is falling barely above the freezing point, the clear, strong vibrations of this melody are as cheerful as in the most genial days of THE SOKTG SPARROW. 133 spring. They sound like a sudden outburst of joy in the midst of the universal bleakness of a winter's day — like something out of its time — a melodious prophecy of the joys of spring so near these last days of winter. We may sometimes find the Song Sparrow in a sheltered place here, even in winter, and hear him lisp a faint warble from near the ground, but his full song is reserved till this approach of spring. The clear strokes, twitters, and trills of this song are especially musical and inspiriting on this bright, still morning. They have the whole vibrating capacity of the atmosphere to themselves, without even the rustling of a leaf or the humming of an insect to counteract them. Commencing with several long and peculiarly resonant notes the bird continues in a twittering warble, and ends with several notes longer and more resonant than the first, the whole being in a tone so loud and penetrating that one cannot but marvel at the capacity of those tiny lungs, scarcely larger than a small bean. But the vocal apparatus of birds, and of song-birds in particular, is very remarkable. The larynx, highly complicated in structure, is at the lower end of the trachea, or windpipe, being also connected with the upper part or fork of the bronchial tubes; and the muscles connected with it, only one or tv7o pairs in ordinary birds, in song-birds, are no less than five pairs. Tl '^se mus- cles may change the relative positions of the car :!i, vinous rings or half- rings connected with the vocal organ; or they may lengthen or shorten the trachea, thus giving the effect of tubes of different lengths in a pipe-organ, or they may modify the tension of the trilling membrane and other membranes of the vocal organ itself. Also the arytenoid cartilages at the upper end of the trachea may open or par- tially close the air passage, and so mod'fy the sound some- thing after the manner of the knee :v>vf;ll of a common ir 134 THE SONG SPARROW. I. I parlor-organ. All these vocal contrivances are greatly aided again by the air-cavities and passages pervading the interior of the body, the muscles and the bones. I'he delightful qualities of tone, and the variations of melody which are thus made possible to the sylvan songster, must fall on the ear of a genuine lover of music to be fully appreciated. Truly nature has concentrated the energy of the song-bird in the vocal powers as well as that of birds in general in the wing. Song, that high endowment of a portion only of the human race, is the peculiar and fascinating gift of certain birds, thus placing them not only above all others of their kind, but above all the rest of animated nature. How often throughout the season have I felt the cheering influence of the melody of a Song Sparrow as it sang regu- larly in the apple-trees near my study-window! Many a performance by the human voice have I heard, far less sig- nificant and entertaining than this spirited pastoral. The song of this species varies greatly in different individuals, and I have sometimes thought that it varied greatly in different and distant localities. On going into the higher regions of our Great Lakes, for instance, I have suspected the melody of the Song Sparrow to be that of some other species, until I had thoroughly assured myself. Ordinarily, the song has a peculiar, vibrating tone, making one think of a tremulous reed or chord; but often the more prolonged notes are decidedly tintinnabulary, as if the bird carried a tiny bell in its throat, and struck off its tones in the most delicate and pleasing manner. The order, again, of the long notes and the short ones in the melody may be end- lessly varied. Well, indeed, has this interesting species been called the Song Sparrow. In autumn, even, especially in the balmy days of Indian Summer, one may hear its lay — not so loud and penetrat- THE SONG SPARROW, 135 ing as in spring, indeed, but in a subdued and tender modu- lation, peculiar to the time of year. One of our commonest birds, found anywhere from the door-yard to the forest, rather partial, however, to thickets, liie Song Sparrow is the useful ally of man against the insect-tribes, and a happy minstrel to cheer him in his toils. Already in April this bird builds its first nest, a second following as soon as possible, and perhaps a third. Thus the breeding season continues to the end of summer. I have seen the eggs fresh the last days of August, and the young in the nest in September. The nest is usually on the ground, and well sheltered by some projecting object — a bush, a tussock of grass, a root, or a hummock of earth; but it ma> be in a bush, or in a hedge, or even in a broken dish. In the latter part of the season the nests a.re much more frequently up from the ground — in a hedge or in a bush — than in the early spring, perhaps because the birds thus seek to escape the disturbances of cultivation — haying, hc^rvesting, and the grazing herds of the pasture. The nesi is composed for the most part of dried grasses, and is often luied with horse-ha?r. The eggs, from .YTx.SS- .86 X .6 J, vary greatly in color and in marking. The ground- color IS a greenish, or bluish, or grayish- white. The mark- ing, generally very thick and heavy, is of some shade of brown, traced with lilac. There is sometimes a single egg in a set, o' a delicate green, and almost spotless. I know of no eggs which vary so greatly in color. I do not so frequently find the Cow Blackbird's eggs in this nest as in that of other small birds in general. The Song Sparrow is quite excitable when its nest is dis- (;;rl ed, v\nd emits a peculiar chimp, chimp, unlike the alarm n< t'^ of any other bird, yet ti has sometimes the chip peculiar to other Sparrows. 1^ \ \ M 136 THE PURPLE FNCII. % This species, composed of some half-dozen varieties, covers North America. Our eastern variety {Melospiza melodia)y wintering from Southern New England and the Middle States southward, and extending north to the lati- tude of Nova Scotia, is some six inches or more in length, and has the marking and color common to all our Spar- rows. It is distinguishable to me, however, by its general reddish tinge of brown, espt-rrially by its long crown tail, by the heavy dark spots on i white breast, and more especially by the heavy dark oV.i < ''> ^rom the base of its bill down its cheeks and neck. Belonging to the same genus with the Song and Swamp Sparrows, is Lincoln's Sparrow {Melospiza lincolnit). Some 6.60 long, it has the colors and markings of the Sparrows in general above; throat and belly white, with a broad, brownish- yellow band across the breast, the throat, breast and sides being specked and spotted with brown and black. In habit, nidification, etc., this bird is very similar to the Song Sparrow. It is found in the migrations throughout North America, being rare to the eastward, but abundant in the west and north- west. Audubon found it breeding in Labrador, and its nests are found in great abundance about Great Slave Lake and Yukon River. Mr. Bruce saw it 'n a thicket by Lake Ontario, on the 17th of May (1880), in company with the White-crowned and White-throated Sparrows. THE PURPLE FINCH. As I return to the village about noon I am greeted by the Purple Finch {Carpodacus purpureus), which has already been here in full song for a week. The size and general shape of one of the larger Sparrows, its head is a dark crimson; rump, breast and under parts of the same, but much lighter, the latter becoming white underneath; MMM THE PURPLE FINCH. 137 feathers of the back and the wing coverts, deep dusky, edged with crimson; wing and tail-feathers, dusky-black, edged with light-brown. The female, strongly resembled by the male for the first two years or more, is nearly the color of a Song Sparrow. From early spring till late summer this is one of our most delightful songsters. Lifting itself up to full length with elevated crest, its voli'ble rich tones — strongly resembling those of the Warbling Vireo, only more rapid and spirited — fairly gurgle in its throat to the very end of the lengthy strain. In the sunny days of the mating season it has quite a variety of short, spirited notes, such as pick-wecy wee-ree^ wee-ree-ee. Then, too, it launches into the air, and with crown-feathers erect, tail partially thrown up, and a vibrating of wings rather than real flight, gives its finest melody. With much demonstration does the male win his plain mate. Never shall I forget how I once saw him perform on a fence-rail between me and the setting sun. Straightening up to full length in front of his spouse, his wings vibrating almost like those of a Humming-bird, his crimson crest all aflame in the slanting rays of rosy light, he poured forth his sweetest warble. The following note from Mr. Eugene Ringueberg, of Lockport, is in place here: "While out in a grove of ever- greens near the house this morning (April 30th), I saw two male Purple Finches chasing a female in and out among the trees. She flew around for three or four minutes, only alighting once in a while to rest, cloi>ely pursued by the males, singing as hard as they could nearly all the time. At length, however, she lit on the branch of a beech-tree, and then one of her suitors perched on a branch within a foct of her on one side, and the other at about the same distance on the other side. Immediately a contest of song i W 138 THE PURPLE FINCH. commenced. Each male faced the female with neck out- stretched and crest raised to its fullest dimensions, and leaned forward far enough to show conspicuously its bright rump, and to aid in this display, spread both wings and tail to the widest extent; and moving, or more properly dancing, up and down, poured forth such a volume of song as I did not think them capable of producing. They kept up this brilliant display of both song and plumage for over a minute, without one second's cessation, continually mov- ing the head and body from side to side, and giving a tremulous, vibratory movement to the wings. Suddenly they stopped, and after a few seconds of restless chirping, one male flew away, and m a snort time the other followed, and then the female flew after the latter." From the middle of May onward into June you may find the nest of the Purple Finch almost invariably in the thick part of a small evergreen, and near the trunk, most com- monly in the front yard, or in an evergreen hedge set for a wind-brake; for though rather shy on the whole, this species seeks the society of man. The nest is framed with small twigs, fine rootlets and some dried grass, ornamented, per- haps, with a few dried leaves, bunches of moss, or bits of vegetable down; it is lined with the finest of dried grasses and rootlets, or more commonly with hair and fine vege- table fibres. The eggs, generally four, some .76 x -55, are a delicate light-green, finely specked with black, or more coarsely spotted with brown. The Purple Finch breeds here quite commonly. Wintering sparingly in Massachu- setts and the more southern parts of New York, but abund- antly in the Southern States, it comes to us in March, reaching Labrador in the north and the Pacific in the west, and goes southward late in the migratory season. Stearns, therefore, very properly assigns it to the ''Canadian and THE PURPLE FINCH. 139 Alleghanian Fauna, the latter being in fa^ t its center of abundance in the breeding season, at which time the bird is probably nowhere more numerous than in Massachusetts." In no place have I ever found it so abundant as in Nova Scotia. Cassin's Purple Finch and the Crimson-fronted are closely-allied western varieties, belonging to the Avi-fauna of the Rocky Mountains. The Purple Finch has the extreme robustness or thick- ness of bill belonging to its tribe. It is, however, not merely a seed-eating bird, but has justly awakened no small prejudice in the gardener, on account of its partiality for the tender filaments and fat anthe'^i of fruit-blossoms. But even if fruit-blossoms were not more numerous than is necessary, this bird's bright plumage and wonderful song might well atone for the little mischief it may do. CHAPTER IX. EARLY APRIL AND THE PHCEBE. IN no field of thought does the law of the association of ideas work more potently than in the domain of nature. Each season has its voices, its temperatures, and its moods of earth and sky. Along with the burning days of harvest we associate the drowsy hum of the Cicada; with the more temperate days, the fading fields and the cool evenings of late summer — the shrilling of crickets, locusts and grass- hoppers; with the driving snows of winter, clouds of Snow Buntings; with the wooing, sunny days of late March and early April, the homely but significant voice of the Phoebe {Sayornis fuscus)^ one of our welcome birds of early spring. While yet the ground is crisp from the frosts of the previ- ous night, and the lingering snow-drifts about the fence- corners give back the unclouded rays of the morning sun in countless scintillations, as the spirited note of the Robin, the amorous warble of the Bluebird, the plaintive melody of the Meadow Lark, and the ringing notes of the Song Spar- row mingle with the sound of the axe of the woodman on the hill, this newly arrived bird mounts the fence, the corn- bin, or the ridge of the barn, and with frequent jerks of the tail emits, at short intervals, his rather harsh, but by no means unpleasing, pe-wee. This is Phoebe's very best song. For more ordinary purposes, however, a chip or a whit may suffice. After a few weeks, the cheerful note which THE PH(EBE. 141 announced her arrival ceases, scarcely to be heard again during her stay. Mr. Burroughs says of this note: "At agreeable intervals in her lay, she describes a circle or an ellipse in the air, ostensibly prospecting for insects, but really, I suspect, as an artistic flourish, thrown in to make up in some way for the deficiency of her musical perform- ance." All pretty fancies aside, Phoebe is, without doubt, a Flycatcher in earnest. Mark her as she describes her curve from the fence-stake, the apple-tree, or the willow which overhangs the brook, or hovers amidst a cloud of gnats or midges, and be assured that the snapping of the bill is no mere pretense. With head large, and legs weak, with colors exceedingly plain, and a flight altogether ordinary, this bird appeals as little to the eye as to the ear. In short, Phoebe is in every point of view a homely bird; and yet, of all the feathered tribes, none has a larger or tenderer place in our sympathies. What makes her so beloved ? Just that which endears certain plain and unpretending people to our hearts; or, that supports the old proverb, "handsome is that handsome does;" or, in other words, an affectionate kindliness and confidence, accompanied by a useful life, greatly transcends any mere external accident of personal beauty or accomplishment. The Phoebe has a better repu- tation than either Wren or Robin, approaches us with even more confidence than the Bluebird, can vie with the Swal- lows in her destruction of noxious insects, in the self-sacri- fice of her domestic cares is outdone by none, and is the sure herald of the bright and happy days of spring. On the other hand, no pilfering or cruel habits or faults of any kind detract from her many virtues. In moral suggestive- ness, the history of such a life is more potent than a fable, and welcome as the beauty and fragrance of the flowers. Then cordially greet this summer resident, more iii> m 142 THE PH(EBE. I ' disposed to self-domestication than any other bird of our country. As an architect, Phoebe is by no means uniform in her method. Though often constructing a mere mud-hut, strengthened by any fibrous or strawy mate- rial, pla'" d on a projection under the piazza, on a beam in the sheds, or on the under structure of a bridge, she may build it almost wholly of shreds of bark, of fine rootlets, lichens, and grasses, or of mosses, using little or no mud. Two nests how before me are both curi- ous and beautiful. The one found under a bridge is double, every part being new. It is built of lichens, moss, dried grass, and very fine rootlets, and lined with white silken fibres and horse-hair, the bulk containing a few pellets of mud as a cement. The apartment of this double nest, which was less finished and contained no eggs, was evidently built first, as the pellets of mud used in cement- ing the outside of the other which was closely joined to it, extend over its edge and into the nearer side of the interior. The more highly finished nest contained five fresh eggs, of the usual size, some .75 x .50 inch, and pure white, and underneath these was a Cow Blackbird's egg, built out after the manner of some of the smaller birds. What could have been the occasion of this double nest ? As the unoccupied nest was built first, and was a little sidling, I infer that the bird had time to build in addition a perfectly upright one, which was more satisfactory, and therefore more highly finished. (These twin nests are a fine brown without and a delicate gray within.) Mr. Minot mentions a pair, which, being late in building, "proceeded to construct, side by side in a shed, two nests, which were finished at the same time. While the male fed the young of the first brood in one nest, the female laid the eggs of a THE PHCEBE. 143 second brood in the other." Possibly the double nest in my possession, which, by the way, was also rather late, had it remained undisturbed, might have disclosed the same purpose. In this, as in many other cases of bird archi- tecture, it would seem that the bird had exercised some- thing of reason, in addition to the ordinary impulses of instinct. The other nest in my possession was found in the cellar of an unoccupied house, and is composed almost entirely of beautiful green mosses, without any perceptible use of mud, and is also lined with white silken fibres and horse- hair— a most beautiful object, especially as ornamented with its complement of clear white eggs! Such nests are sometimes built on cliffs of rock, according to the original habits of the bird, and thus appear as if they "grew" there — a beautiful product of nature. This is a bird of the United States, rare in Northern New England and so belonging to the AUeghanian Fauna^ wintering in the Southern States, and raising sometimes as many as three broods in a season and in the same nest, which is ready for tlie first occupation some time in April. It is well understood that this species returns to the same place for nidification for years in succession. Audubon believed that the young of the previous year returned, in some cases, with the parents, and thus started a sor*^ of colony. Phoebe is 6.50 or upward in length, dark-olive above, still darker on the crown; under parts white or tinged with yellow; sides, and sometimes the breast, shaded with the dark color of the upper parts. The ring around the eye, the outer webbing of the wing and some of the tail- feathers are tinged with greenish-white. Bill entirely black. I; m 144 THE WOOD DUCK. THE WOOD DUCK. Along the line between Orleans and Genesee counties is Tonawanda Swamp, extending many miles east and west, and giving rise to a number of beautiful streams. Here are large tracts of wood-land, forests of cedar and larch, immense groves of maples, ashes, elms, etc., standing in the water a great part of the year, as well as extensive tracts of mere shrubby growth, and open marshes, moss-bogs, etc. Here are many ponds and sluggish streams wind- ing their way so quietly through the still forests that their glassy surface betrays no current until a boat is launched upon them. Being quartered with a hospitable family in the vicinity, I am spending the first days of April in these interesting haunts. Having paddled a light canoe for several miles along the meandering water-course, I build me a booth against the trunk of a large elm standing on a point where several channels meet. Seating myself, gun in hand, I have a commanding view along the channels for some distance. Presently a pair of Wood Ducks {Aix sponsa) appear. Evidently they are about to alight, but will first reconnoiter the place. They cross the streams several times, making short circuits through the woods. How noiselessly they glide through the tree-tops, the male lead- ing, and the female following closely after. Satisfied as to the quiet of the spot, they drop gracefully into the wide, glassy sheet of water where the channels meet. O, the elegant figure and brilliant colors of the male, as he displays himself in front of the female! The stretching and curv- ing of the neck, and the graceful elevating of the crest are indescribable. How he cuts and darts around his mate and most tenderly caresses her! This is the supreme moment of his rare elegance and beauty. He also utters a peculiar cackling sound. Some SO inches in length, he is THE WOOD DUCK. 146 about half way in size between the Teal and the Mallard; the short and well-shaped bill is finely shaded with yellow, carmine, and green; the top of the head, and space between the eye and bill, dark, glossy green; the long crest, dark green and deep bronze-purple, elegantly edged and streaked with white; cheeks and sides of the neck, deep purplish- brown, almost black; arches above the eyes, throat and fore-neck, with points extending across the cheeks and sides of the neck, pure white; breast light purplish-brown, with triangular white spots, and shading into bronze-green on the upper back; wing blue, black, and violet, edged with white; feathers at the shoulder of the wing white, edged with black; tail greenish-black, with rich purplish-brown on each side of the base; femoral and side-feathers, gray- ish-yellow, delicately penciled with black, and tipped with white and black bands; under parts, white. He is decidedly the most beautiful bird of our waters. The female is a little smaller than the male, has the crest much smaller, and is altogether plainer in color; the upper ' parts being generally grayish or brownish, tinged and glossed with green and purple; space around the eyes, throat, and under parts, white; breast similar to that of the male in marking, but much plainer in color. Having performed their amorous caresses, the happy pair spring out of the water on wing and alight in the top of a tall tree, perching as readily as any land-bird, and thus differing widely from most others of their kind. Here they are still beautiful, but not so charming as on the water. The Wood Duck breeds here, as it does in similar retreats throughout the Union; not on the ground, however, after the usu^l manner of Ducks, but in the ends of large hollow limbs which have been broken off, the nest being 10 % * A if \ i r t? •i V t 'i I I ! ! 146 r/f£ WOOD DUCK. placed sometimes six or ten feet in, and in cavities in the bodies of trees. The nest is made of various dried vege- table matter, and is lined with feathers and down. The eggs, anywhere from a half-dozen to fifteen, are smooth, about 1.95 X 1.60, nearly elliptical, of a light yellowish-white, some- times tinged with green. When the female begins to sit the male leaves her, after the usual manner of the Ducks, and joins other males. When the young are about twenty-four hours old, if the limb containing the nest be over the water, they may find their way severally to the edge, and dropping into their favorite element, begin life's perilous career. If the nest be a little distant from the water, as is generally the case, the mother may seize them by the wing or neck, and con- vey them to it, or, landing them thus on the ground, may lead them thither in a flock. More commonly, however, the mother having thoroughly reconnoitered the place for some time, and now uttering her soft cooing call at the door-way, the little ones scramble up from the nest with the aid of their sharp toe-nails, and huddle around the mother a few minutes. The mother, now descending to the ground, calls again to the young, and they drop one by one on to the soft moss or dried leaves, their tiny bodies so enveloped in long down, falling scarcely harder than a leaf or a feather. Again they huddle around the mother-bird; and, the distance cf the nest from the water being sometimes as much as sixty or seventy rods, and generally more or less on an elevation, they need the maternal guidance to their favorite element. Here, on such shallow ponds and edges of creeks and lakes as abound in tender vegetable growths, amidst many perils, she watches over tnem most assiduously, aiding them in procvuing their food of aquatic insects, tender shoots of THE PEREGRINE FALCON, 147 water plants, small mollusks, and tadpoles. When fully grown they delight in beech-nuts, acorns, and such berries as may be found in their locality. These elegant birds, so delicious for the table, and so easily domesticated, spend their winters on the fresh waters of the more southern portion of the Union. Indeed, they are always strictly fresh-water ducks, and may sometimes be found in large flocks during fall and winter. Though extending somewhat farther north, this Duck is particularly a bird of the United States, breeding very commonly in all suitable, places, and hence is often called the Summer Duck. THE PEREGRINE FALCON. Scarcely have the elegant pair of Wood Ducks disap- peared, when there passed overhead one of the most dis- tinguished birds in the world — the Peregrine Falcon, or Duck Hawk {Falco communis). For a moment he seemed to be "stooping" upon some object of prey, then, as if disappointed, rose for a short distance in a short spiral curve and made off. As he swept with the speed of an arrow past me, I could hear the vibrating hum of his pinions; and when he rose, he pursued his abruptly-curved pathway with a swift, nervous sailing, wholly unlike the slow and majestic sweep of the Buzzards. Though not numerous anywhere, this bird has very nearly or quite the wide world as its range. It is well known all along the Atlantic Coast, and is more or less common along the great rivers of the interior, in the mountainous regions of which it breeds, the nest, like that of the Golden Eagle, being placed on ledges of projecting rock on some lofty precipice. Professor S. S. Haldeman was the first to note its breeding in the United States, discovering the site of its nest in the mountain- ,1(J 148 THE PEREGRINE FALCON. cliffs along the Susquehanna, near Columbia, Pennsylvania, Afterwards Mr. Allen gave a most satisfactory account of its nesting in Mt. Tom, on the Connecticut, in Massachu- setts Very recently I obtained from the observations of Professor Charles Linden, of Buffalo, some very interesting notes as to its breeding on the Mississippi, about sixty miles north of Cairo, Illinois. A vertical out-crop of Devonian strata, some 200 feet high and about a mi.\e from the river^ contained two nests of this species, about a quarter of a mile apart and near its crest. The nests were on a shelv- ing of the rocks, and the limy droppings of the birds could be plainly seen for many feet adown cliff. The birds were almost constantly in sight, and the place afforded an excel- lent study of their habits. It being a little after the middle of April (1869), the wild Ducks were still abundant in the shallow pools of the tall forests between the cliff and the river. The Wood Ducks were there in almost countless numbers. Blue-winged Teal and Widgeon were common, while a few Mallards and Shovellers still lingered. Here the Duck Hawk, perched on a tall, leafless tree well up the mountain side, kept watch :'^or his quarry, many a time swooping with the swiftness of an arrow and with the most unerring aim at some choice individual of the crowd. . Thus he deserves to be compared to " a feathered arrow traversing the air with a rapidity of thought, a living and winged instrument of death !" Sometimes a passing Pigeon lured him, or a Wilson's Snipe, of which there were plenty here at this time. Generally the Duck Hawk contrives little or nothing for a nest, laying its eggs almost on the bare rock or clay; and thus the female sits closely, scrambling to the edge of the precipice, and launching into the dizzy ravine beneath only when closely crowded by the hunter. It has been related THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 149 on the bes£ authority, however, that it sometimes constructs a bulky nest of sticks and other coarse materials. In the timber lands along the Neosho River, Kansas, Mr. N. S. Goss found these birds breeding in trees. In the first instance, February, 1876, "the nest," he says, "was in a large sycamore, about fifty feet from the ground, in a trough-like cavity formed by the breaking off of a hollow limb near the body of the tree." He continues: " I watched the pair closely, with the view of securing both the birds and their eggs. March 27th I became satisfied that the birds were sitting, and I shot the female, but was unable to get near enough to shoot the male.* The next morning I hired a young man to climb the tree, who found three fresh eggs, laid on the fine, soft, rotten wood in a hollow worked out of the same to fit the body. There was no other material or lining, except a few feathers and down mixed with the decayed wood. " March 17, 1876," he adds, " I found a pair nesting on the opposite side of the river from the above-described nest, in a cotton-wood, at least sixty feet from .the ground, the birds entering a knot-hole in the tree, apparently not over five or six inches in diameter." Thus we see that along the rivers in prairie lands, where mountains are wanting, the Duck Hawk, wholly apart from its usual habit, nests in tall trees, appropriating something like a cavity The eggs three or four, 2.20-2.32 x 1.65- 1.71, are grayish ocher or chocolate-brown, dotted, spotted, and blotched with reddish-brown, sometimes continuously colored with the same either about the large or small end. "The flight of this bird," says Audubon, " is astonishingly rapid. It is scarcely ever seen sailing, unless after being disaopointed in its attempts to secure the prey which it has been pursuing, and even at such times it merely rises with III >!' im 150 THE PEREGRINE FALCON. a broad, spiral circuit, to attain a sufficient elevation to enable it to reconnoiter a certain space below. It then emits a cry much resembling that of the Sparrow Hawk, bat greatly louder, like that of the European Kestrel, and flies off quickly in quest of plunder. The search is often performed with a flight resembling that of the tame Pigeon, until perceiving an object, it redoubles its flapping^, and pursues the fugitive with a rapidity scarcely to be conceived. Its turnings, windings and cuttings through the air are now surprising. It follows and nears the timorous quarry at every turn and back-cutting which the latter attempts. Arrived within a few feet of the prey, the Falcon is seen protruding his powerful legs and talons to their full stretch. His wings are for a moment almost closed; the next instant he grapples the prize, which, if too weighty to be carried off directly, he forces obliquely toward the ground, sometimes a hundred yards from where it was seized, to kill it and devour it on the spot. Should this happen over a large extent of water, the Falcon drops his prey and sets off in quest of another. On the contrary, should it not prove too heavy, the exulting bird carries it off to a sequestered and secure place. He pursues the smaller Ducks, Water-hens, and other swimming birds, and if they are not quick in diving, seizes them, and rises with them from the water. I have seen this Hawk come at the report of a gun and carry off a Teal, not thirty steps distant from the sportsman who had killed it, with a daring assurance as surprising as unex- pected. This conduct has been observed by many individ- uals, and is a characteristic trait of the species. The largest Duck that I have seen this bird attack and grapple with on the wing is the Mallard. "The Great-footed Hawk does not, however, content himself with water-fowl. He is generally seen following THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 151 the flocks of Pigeons and even Blackbirds, causing great terror in their ranks, and forcing them to perform various aerial evolutions to escape the grasp of his dreaded talons. For several days I watched one of them that had taken a particular fancy to some tame Pigeons, to secure which it went so far as to enter their house at one of the holes, seize a bird, and issue by another hole in an instant, causing such terror among the rest as to render me fearful that they would abandon the place. However, I fortunately shot the depredator. " They occasionally feed on dead fish that have floated to the shores or sand-bars. I saw several of them thus occupied while descending the" Mississippi on a journey undertaken expressly for the purpose of observing and procuring different specimens of birds, and which lasted four months, as I followed the windings of that great river, floating down it only a few miles daily. During that period, I and my com- panion counted upwards of fifty of these Hawks. * ♦ * " It is a clean bird in respect to feeding. No sooner is the prey dead than the Falcon turns its belly upwards and begins to pluck it with his bill, which he does very expertly, holding it meantime quite fast in his talons; and as soon as a portion is cleared of feathers, tears the flesh in large pieces, and swallows it with great avidity. If it is a large bird, he leaves the refuse parts, but, if small, swallows the whole in pieces. Should he be approached by an enemy, he rises with it and flies off into the interior of the woods, or, if he happens to be in a meadow, to some considerable distance, he being more wary at such times than when he has alighted on a tree. " These birds sometimes roost in the hollows of trees. I iaw one resorting for weeks every night to a hole in a dead sycamore, near Louisville, in Kentucky. It generally came f i p \ T \' :' K i- ' ■ , i» # l::re k;K; ?■; m 162 THE PEREGRINE FALCON. to the place a little before sunset, alighted on the dead branches, and in a short time after flew into the hollow, where it spent the night, and from whence I saw it issuing at dawn. I have known them also to retire for the same purpose to the crevices of high cliffs, on the banks of Green River, in the same State. " Many persons believe that this Hawk, and some others, never drink any other fluid than the blood of their victims; but this is an error. I have Seen them alight on sand-bars, walk to the edge of them, immerse their bills nearly up to the eyes in water, and drink in a continued manner, as Pigeons are known to do." Undoubtedly no American ornithologist ever observed the habits of the Duck Hawk as did Audubon; hence I have preferred to quote verbatim from him, rather than to simu- late knowledge by swallowing his statements and disgorging the pellets. A fine female of this species, taken in Orleans County, of this State, in autumn, is now before me. It is about twenty inches long and three feet in extent. Bill blackish, blue at tip, light-green at base; cere greenish-yellow; legs yellow; the general color of the upper parts is a rich dark-brown, the terminal part of each feather being much the darker, the upper part, which is mostly covered, having a grayish or ashy tinge, especially about the neck, and nearly all the feathers being tipped with light brown or brownish- white; the inner web of the wing feathers is crossed with round, oval or long spots of buff or light reddish; the tail has eight broken cross-bars of the same color, and is t'.pped with buffy white; the throat and sides of the neck are buff, the brown check-marking from the base of the bill being very conspicuous; the under parts and femoral feathers being buff or buffy white, heavily marked with brown. The male. THE CHIPPING SPARROW. 158 which is about three inches shorter, has more of the grayish or bluish tinge in the upper parts; and the under parts are lighter — often nearly white. This is a typical Falcon, having the short, abruptly-curved and pointed bill, with a sharp tooth just back of the point, and a corresponding notch in the lower truncate mandible; the wings are long and pointed, the second primary being longest. This species may be recognized by its large feet, its round nostril, with a point in the center, and the dark cheek-marking starting from the base of the bill. The Old World representative of this species has been most renowned in falconry. In this princely sport, practiced very extensively from the most ancient times till after the use of fire-arms, and still continuing more or less in vogue, the Peregrine Falcon has ever proved most susceptible of training; "waiting on" the master to perfection, "ringing" the Heron as ht " takes the air," and " binding " him in the most gallant and sportive manner. A weird sight these Hawks must have been, as they were carried forth on the wrist or on frames to the hunt, all hooded and trapped out in the most fantastic manner; and most animating must have been the sport, as the grand Falcon described his aerial evolutions in capturing his swift-winged prey. THE CHIPPING SPARROW. About the 6 th of April the first Chipping Sparrows {Spi- zella socialis) appear. They do not become very common, however, until about a week later. Of all our native Spar- rows, this one shows the greatest confidence in man, nr»- ferring to rear its young in his immediate vicinity, picking up the crumbs about the door of his habitation, and there- fore very properly called the Social Sparrow. About 6.60 long, and having the common markings of the Spar- 154 THE CHIPPING SPARROW. rows above, it is to be distingruished from most of its family by its smaller size, and from them all by its chestnut crown, shading into black in front, and by its clear grayish-white breast and under parts. The sharp, chipping note, from which it has derived its most common name, is certainly characteristic, as is also its song, which is simply a prolonged twitter — cfup-ip-ip'tp-ip-ip-ipy itself suggestive of the name of the singer -T- frequently uttered throughout the day in the breeding season, and not infrequently indulged in in the night The anxious mother, keeping watch at the cradle of her sick child, may hear it in the lilac outside the window; or, for the wakeful sufferer, it may every now and then break the monotony of the slow, dark hours, while at the first streak of the dawn it generally strikes the key-note of the universal matin. In the location and structure of its nest, and, indeed, in respect to the color of itN eggs, Socialis is unlike the rest of our Sparrows. For a Kest, Mr. Burroughs says: "It usually contents itself with a half-dozen stalks of dry grass and a few long hairs from a cow's tail, loosely arranged on the branch of an apple-tree." While this is graphically descriptive of many a nest, it is by no means exhaustive. I have before me several quite bulky nests. One is com- posed outwardly of a dense arrangement of fine rootlets, and has a thick lining of "long hairs from a cow's tail" — the same as much that passes for horse-hair in other nests — or hairs from the tail or mane of some horse. The outside of another is a pretty good bunch of coarse rootlets and dried grasses loosely thrown together, containing a lining of pigs' bristles sufficient to make a nest in itself. Another consists entirely of horse-hair. In every case there is such a quantity of hair used for lining as to justify the name of THE BAY.WINGED SPARROW, 155 Hairbird, sometimes given to this species. The nest, placed in any shrub, bush, vine, on the piazza, or apple-tree, is never very near the ground, and may be pretty well up. The eggs, 4 or 6, .68 x -48, are a bright bluish-green, specked at the large end with reddish-brown and black.. There are generally two broods in a season, the first appearing early in June. I have in my possession almost a perfect Albino of this species. Habitat, "Eastern United States; breeding from Virginia northward; wintering from the same point southward." (Coues.) It is quite common in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, and also on Manitoulin Island, and on the main land to the north. THE BAY-WINGED SPARROW. Not many hours either earlier or later than the morning of the 7th of April, we hear, in this locality, the first song of the Bay- winged Sparrow, or Grass Finch {Pocecetes gramineus). Almost at the same hour it is here in great numbers; and throughout our latitude the fields and pastures are every- where enlivened by its appearance and by its pleasing song. By the white feathers on the sides of the tail, becom- ing conspicuous as the bird alights, by the general lightness of color, and by its habit of skulking along so as barely to keep out of the way, this bird is readily distinguished from all the rest of our Sparrows. On taking it into the hand, one notes the patch of reddish, or bay, on the shoulder of the wing, from which it receives its more common name. The length is about six inches, and male and female are alike. Associating the above distinguishing characters with the general appearance of our Sparrows, the bird will be readily made out as our commonest summer resident of the pastures, the open fields, and the road-sides. On its first appearance among us in spring, and by the time it leaves . ;ili ': 156 THE BAY. WINGED SPARROW. US in late autumn, the warm tints of its plain dress are decidedly pleasing; but in the burning heat of midsummer, from constant contact with grass, stubble, dust and gravel, it appears rather shabby. The melody of the Bay- wing, if not so sprightly and varied, still bears quite a resemblance to that of the Song Sparrow, and is expressive of a tender pathos, which may even give it the preference. It is one of the few bird-songs which might be written upon a musical ataff. Beginning with a few soft syllables on the fifth note of the musical scale, it strikes several loud and prolonged notes on the eighth above, and ends in a soft warble, which seems to die out for want of breath, and may run a little down the scale. Though the song is not brilliant, and rather suggestive of humble scenes and thoughts, "the grass, the stones, the stubble, the furrow, the quiet herds, and the warm twilight among the hills," it is nevertheless a fine pastoral, full of the sweet content which dwells in the bosom of nature. It is heard to the best advantage when the rosy hues of sundown are tinting the road, the rocks, and all the higher lights of the evening landscape. Then an innumerable company of these poets "of the plain, unadorned pastures" — some perched on the fences, some on weeds and thistles, but many more hid in the grass and stubble — swell into their finest chorus, while most other birds are gradually subsiding into silence. It has been well said that the farmer following his team from the field at dusk catches the Bay-wing's sweetest strain, and that a very proper name for it would be the Vesper Spar- row. Its nest, which is on the ground, and often without any protection, is built outwardly of the coarse material of the fields, and lined with fine grass, rootlets, or horse-hair. The eggs, 4 or 6, some .80 x -60 of an inch, are mostly dull white and quite variable in their markings, generally thickly WHITE-BELLIED S IVALLO IV. 167 specked with reddish-brown and lilac; they are often spot- ted and blotched with darker brown and blackish, and often scratched and scrawled with black as with a pen, after the manner of the eggs of the Icterida. As the first brood ma> be hatched here by the middle of May, the abundance of nests in all the fields brings them in contact with the plow in great numbers; and as the eggs of the second or last brood may be fresh about the 4th of July, many nests are destroyed in the hay-field. The losses sustained therefore by this bird in nidification are probably greater by far than those of any other species in the locality. Habitat, the United States from ocean to ocean, and reported by Dr. Richardson from the Saskatchawan. Winters abundantly in the Southern States, and breeds from the southern Middle States northward, becoming very rare in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. ^' .ilTE-BELLIED SWALLOW. About the first or second week in April the White-bellied Swallow {Tachycineta bicolor) makes its appearance. This earliest arrival of its very interesting family is most likely to be seen along streams or ponds; and while it exceeds but a little the average size of the different kinds of Swal- lows— for excepting the Purple or Black Martin {Progne purpurea)^ the Swallows differ but slightly in dimensions — it is readily distinguished by its simple markings of glossy greenish-black above, and pure white beneath, whence its specific name Bicolor^ or two-colored. In purity and ele- gance of color it surpasses all the rest of its family in this locality, and is itself surpassed on this continent only by the exquisite beauty of the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Coast, known as the Violet-green Swallow {^Tachy- cineta thalassind). Its notes are particularly soft and musical ^• tl 158 WHITE-BELLIED SWALLOW. for a bird of its kind, so that it is called by some the Sing- ing Swallow. The flight of the Swallow is one of the wonders of nature. Achieving in its ordinary flight at least a mile in a minute, the Barn Swallow " has been known to leave Hali- fax, Nova Scotia, at sunset, for the South, and to reach the Islands of Bermuda, 800 miles due south, by sunrise the next morning." (Tristram.) Thus, in comparatively a few hours, it can pass from the Arctic snows to the tropics. Wilson estimating the flight of the Swallow at a mile in a minute, its t^me spent on wing per day to be ten hours, and its length of life at ten years, shows that it would thus pass round the globe eighty-seven times. The White-bellied Swallow is especially swift and grace- ful in flight. Behold it "skating on the air." How it dashes along, seemingly almost without exertion, capturing its food or dipping its bill into the glistening stream to drink, or washing itself "by a sudden plunge," all of which scarcely retards its onward movement In a moment it is out of sight, or else rising nearly perpendicularly, it will suddenly shoot across the tree-tops with almost lightning speed, performing the most wondrous aerial evolutions as easily as if it were tossed by the winds themselves. The whole domain of air is the Swallow's home. No path of insect is beyond its reach, and what bird of prey can over- take it? Here is freedom, indeed, and a life that is one continual recreation. The White-bellied Swallow is associated with the days of my childhood in Nova Scotia. Many a nest did I find in the hollow stumps of the low pastures. A few dried grasses compose the outside, the inside being a considerable mass of large, downy, white feathers of the tame Goose, so laid that the tips curl inward, and almost cover the eggs when VITHITE-BELLIED SWALLOW. 169 the bird is off the nest. The pure white eggs, some four or five, are real gems of beauty. How bravely the parent birds would defend their nest, describing their noisy circles in near proximity, and, with a guttural shriek, diving so closely at the head of the intruder, as to induce a speedy retreat. The same stump would be occupied for a series of years, the annual additions of lining giving considerable depth to the nest in time. In New England this bird is now said to build in " a Martin-box," or " rarely in the hole of a tree." In New York it nests in holes about the walls of brick or stone buildings — as an instance, in large numbers in holes about the stone buildings of the Johnston Harvester Works at Brockport. Here, too, it sometimes builds in the holes of trees, and more or less in community. On the Mud Islands, Yarmouth County, Nova Scotia, I saw the nests of this species on the ground under flat stones, and in holes in the ground. They were elegantly lined with the feathers of the Herring Gull and of the Eider Duck, the feathers being so laid that the tips curled upward and nearly concealed the eggs. Though these Swallows do not generally nest in commu> nities, they often associate in large numbers in spring and fall. What a spirited scene I witnessed about the middle of last April, on one of the secluded ponds of Tonawanda Swamp. The number gyrating above the glassy surface so filled the air that their movements without contact with each other seemed impossible. The £iir became darkened, and was made resonant by the volume of their musical twitterings. These Swallows leave us from the earlier half of Septem- bei to middle of October, when they may be seen'in great numbers. Mr. Maynard, of Newtonville, Mass., says: " They coifgregate upon the salt marshes during the latter part of % 160 THE COW BLACKBIRD. Augfust and the first of September literally by millions; the air is so completely filled with them that it is almost impos- sible to discharge a gun without killing some." I have seen them in like numbers along the Niagara River in the latter part of September. They would darken the air in flight, and, when alighting, would blacken the shore for a long distance. Its habitat is temperate North America, reaching even to Alaska, throughout which it breeds quite generally, while it winters in the extreme Southern States, in Central America, and in the West Indies. Our several species of the Swallow are among the birds which are especially regular in the times of their migrations. Now, as in the days of the prophet Jeremiah, it knows the time of its coming, and as truly marks the ushering in of the joyous days of spring as when the boys of Athens sang their familiar ditty in its honor. The Swallows, Swifts, and Goat-suckers were formerly all classed together as Fissirostrals, or those having a deeply- cleft bill. The resemblance which the Swallows bear to the two other groups is, however, merely external, an analogy rather than an affinity. A strict anatomy proves the Swallows alone to have the complicated rauscular system of the lower larynx belonging to the birds of song, while the remaining Fissirostrals, having the simpler larnx of the non-singing birds, are placed among the Flycatchers and Humming-birds. THE cow BLACKBIRD. One of the most beautiful and forcible lessons in nature is the conjugal and parental alfection of the birds. The inimitable songs of the males are generally most ardently and sweetly delivered, while the females are enduring the THE COW BLACKBIRD. 161 tedious confinement and exhaustion of incubation; thus charming the ear with an entertainment which might delight the very highest intelligences, and so beguiling the weary hours. Behold that male Bluebird feeding the female in the most kindly manner, or the Rose-breasted Grosbeak taking apparently the greater part of the burden of incubation upon himself ! How disconsolate is that House Wren whose mate the cat has killed ! Listen to the sad moanings of that Mourning Dove bereft*of his mate ! I have some- times pointed the newly-married couple to the birds as being the best guide to domestic felicity. And has the reader ever noticed the melancholy arts of a female bird, when startled from her eggs, as she hobbles and flutters along the ground feigning broken legs and wings ? Has he ever seen the distress of the mother Part- ridge at the alarm of her young brood ? Giving them the well-understood signal to hide themselves, she tumbles about and moans, as if in the last agonies of death, and will even allow herself to be touched by the hand in order to decoy the intruder; and when danger seems over, listen to her pathetic maternal call, which again brings the tender youngflings under her wings ! Neither father nor mother of tl;e human species could feed and protect a helpless family with more self-sacrificing industry than is universally com- mon to the parent birds. Audubon tells us how the heart of a pirate was once softened while listening to the tender cooings of the Zenaida Doves in the breeding season on one of the Florida Keys. Dropping on his knees upon the burning sand, he penitently besought heaven for mercy, and, at the peril of his life, forsook his murderous crew, and joined his formerly abandoned family. In the case, however, of the Cow Blackbird {Molothrus pecoris) of America, and the Cuckoo of Europe, lAro birds 11 isl 162 THE COW BLACKBIRD. belonging to altogether different families, we note a most remarkable exception, these being wholly polygamous and parasitic. The Cow Blackbird makes its first appearance in Western New York about the end of the first week in April. Some 7.00 or 7.50 long, the male is a glossy greenish- black, with a brown head. The female, somewhat smaller, is plain slaty-brown. In sombre groups of some half- dozen or more — the males being at first the more numerous, but the sexes soon becoming about equally represented — they perch leisurely on the fence, on a solitary tree in the field or in the edge of the woods, often penetrating the thickest forests. The intercourse of the sexes is entirely promiscuous, no male ever showing any continuous attach- ment to any ox\.^. female. Since the body-guard of insects accompanying the cattle affords the Cow Bird a constant repast, or more especially from the attractiveness of certain intestinal worms passed in the excrements of cattle by means of the aperient effects of green grass in spring and ea^ly sum- mer, this species is noted for its preference of the vicinity of these quadrupeds; even lighting on their backs; hence its con^mon name, Cow Blackbird, formerly Cow Bunting. Dr. Coues says: "Cow Birds appear to be particularly abundant in the west; more so, perhaps, than they really are, for the numbers that in the East spread equally over large areas are here drawn within small compass, owing to lack of attractions abroad. Every wagon-train passing over the prairies in summer is attended by flocks of the birds; every camp and stock-corral, permanent or temporary, is besieged by the busy birds eager to glean subsistence from the wasted forage. Their familiarity under these circum- stances is surprising. Perpetually wandering about the feet of the draught-animals, or perching upon their backs, they become so accustomed to man's presence that they THE COW BLACKBIRD, 163 will hardly get out of the way. I have even known a young bird to suffer itself to be taken in hand, and it is no uncom- mon thing to have the birds fluttering within a few feet of one's head. The animals appear to rather like the birds, and suffer them to perch in a row upon their back-bones, doubt- less finding the scratching of their feet a comfortable sensa- tion, to say nothing of the riddance from insect parasites." In respect to its vocal performances, this bird is curious rather than entertaining. Ruffing up its feathers, opening wide its mouth, and appearing to strain every muscle, it " seems literally to vomit up its notes," which bear a formal resemblance, indeed, to those of the closely-related Red- winged Blackbird, but are almost entirely destitute of their claims to musical quality. The vocal utterances of Pecoris do certainly " gurgle and blubber up out of him, falling on the ear with a peculiar subtle ring, as of turning water from a glass bottle," but, perhaps, on account of my prejudice, I fail utterly to discover their "pleasing cadence." While other birds are busy building their nests, this reckless free-lover betrays no impulse whatever in this direction, but gayly flitting about from place to place, spends his time in mere wanton pleasure. As soon as the nests of other birds are completed, you may notice the females of this dusky flock of Cow Birds becoming very uneasy. One by one they steal away in quest of some strange nest in which to deposit their eggs. They have been known to search the ground, the bushes, and the trees for miles in order to accomplish their purpose. Never driving away the rightful owner, nor taking possession by force, they will creep stealthily into the nest in the absence of the owner, and hastily depositing an egg, hurry back to join their company with the most obvious sense of relief, and without the slightest further concern for their offspring. \\ \ h 'k. 164 THE COW BLACKBIRD. I ': This species has never been known to build a nest, nor to take any interest in raising its young, which are left entirely to the care of foster parents. Almost invariably the nest of a bird much smaller than itself is chosen. The Sparrows, the Warblers, the Vireos, the smaller Flycatchers — in fact, any of the small land-birds -r- may become the victim of this im- position. Occasionally birds near its own size, as the Scarlet Tanager or the Bluebird, may be obliged to bear the burden. The Cow Bird's egg is so unusually small for the size of the bird, only some 90 x .65 of an inch, that it is readily accommodated in the nests of very small birds, whereas, if dropped into that of larger ones, it may be thrown out. I have found it with a hole in the side and lying on the ground, beneath the nest of the Yellow-breasted Chat, thus evidently pierced by the bill of the bird, and ousted in indignation. These eggs, of a dirty white and specked all over with brown, are readily distinguished from those of any nest in which they may be placed, and are always unwelcome to the owners, which will become very uneasy and querulous; and the female, hunting up its mate, will make a noisy ado over the intrusion. If the owner has not yet laid her own eggs she may forsake the nest, or add a story to it, thus burying the foreign egg so deeply as to suffer no inconvenience from it. Many cases of the latter expediency have been found. Wilson found a Yellow War- bler's nest containing two eggs thus separately built out, mak- ing a nest of three stories. I have seen a like nest of the Red- start. The owner of such a nest does, indeed, deserve "a better fate than that her house should at last be despoiled by a naturalist;" but " passing thi j into history," and making such a contribution to science, is worth a great sacrifice. I once found a Wood Thrush sitting stupidly on a solitary egg of the Cow Blackbird. This would seem to be exceptional. l\Bi THE COW BLACKBIRD. 165 Wilson and Audubon, as well as the earlier ornithologists in general, were mistaken in saying that no nest contained more than one of the Cow Blackbird's eggs. I have fre- quently found more than one in the same nest; once not less than four in the nest of a Scarlet Tanager, which had only room enough left for two of her own. Mr. Trippe once found a Black-and-white Creeper's nest with five of the eggs of the interloper and three deposited by the owner. Dr. Coues has we'! said: "We may consider this pair of Creepers relieved, on the whole, by Mr. Trippe's visit — the mother-bird rescued from drowning in the inundation of so many * well-springs,* and the father saved the necessity of hanging himself from the nearest convenient crotch." Perhaps requiring a shorter period of incubation, perhaps on account of the size of the egg being greater, and thus receiving more warmth than those of the owner of the nest, the Cow Bird's egg invariably hatches first. Then the foster parent, prompted by the generosity of parental in- stinct, will leave her own eggs to chill, while she secures food for the foundling. Thus the Cow Bird alone is hatched, and the addled eggs of the owner of the nest are soon removed. Considering the number of nests thus intruded upon, sometimes apparently more than half of the small birds' nests in this locality, the check thus put upon the propagation of these various species must be very great. The young Cow Blackbird grows rapidly, and soon more than fills the nest. Meanwhile the foster parents feed it most assiduously, and continue to do so long after it has left the nest, and when it is many times larger than the little Sparrow or Warbler thus imposed upon. It is by no means suggestive of pleasing reflections to see this great over-grown foundling flapping its wings and calling loudly *.' 166 THE MOURNING DOVE. for these attentions v/hen it seems sufficiently mature to take care of itself. The remarkable sagacity of these young birds in discov- ering each other has been well noted by ornithologists. I have seen them in very considerable flocks already by the 20th of June, and later in the season they gather into flocks^ which are simply immense. Considering how many of our summer residents are hard to find during the moulting period, it may not after all appear so strange that the Cow Bird seems absent during a certain part of summer. In late summer and early autumn they are wont to assemble in large flocks, some- times quite destructive, and, migrating late in autumn, spend the winter in great numbers in the Southern States. They are said to deposit their eggs from 35° to 68° north. General habitat, North America. Plain in form and color, without musical attractions, of a disgusting diet, an arrant free-lover, wholly without parental affection, a destroyer at the very threshold of the life of many of our most interesting birds, in short, in all respects of most distasteful and infamous habits, this grand ornithological nuisance would seem to claim no considera- tion whatever, except as an anomaly, being a most flat con- tradiction of the laws of its kind, and hence an addition to nature's great variety. THE MOURNING DOVE. On the 10th of April one of my parishioners called my attention to what he called a flock of Plover in a field where he had raised corn the year before. The flock, con- sisting of some twenty, turned out to be Mourning Doves {Zencedura carolinensis). Rarely do we see so many together at any time of year in this locality. Occasionally, how- THE MOURNING DOVE. 107 ever, they will appear in the newly-reaped wheat-fields in the month of August in very large flocks. They remained in this field for days, gleaning the stray kernels of corn, and perhaps the seeds of the coarser weeds. These birds arrive quite as early as the present date, generally in pairs, and sotnetimes stray individuals remain all winter. In Northern Ohio they spend the winter in small flocks about the barn- yards and orchards, gleaning and feeding along with the domestic fowl, thus becoming almost domesticated. Hav- ing the small head, peculiar bill, slender neck, short legs, and pointed tail of the Doves, it is a genuine member of the Columbida family, and a near relative of our Pigeon. About a foot long, with fourteen tail feathers, and a naked space around the eyes, its color is a slaty-brown above, bluish on the top of the head and on the back of the neck, a velvety-black spot on the auriculars; front of the neck, breast, and under parts, a delicate, warm light-red; throat, crissum, and ends of the outer tail feathers, white. Here and there about the wings and back is a dark slaty or black feather. The sides of the neck have a beautiful metallic purple gloss, or iridescence. Female and young, plainer and duller, and slaty on the breast. As in Bible lands, the cooing of the Dove is one of the characteristic voices of our advanced spring. In thickets, and especially in orchards, sometimes even in the orna- mented evergreens of the front-yard, some four successive notes, a most mournful cooing among " the saddest sounds in nature," may be heard throughout the day, but especially in the early morning. These notes, however, so strangely in contrast with the universal gladness of spring, are by no means the utterance of grief or woe, but rather of the ten- derest emotions of love and joy. They are the conjugal notes of the male; and such are his attentions and appar- 168 THE MOURNING DOVE. ently life-long attachment to the female, that, like the Doves in general through all historic times, he is a fit emblem of the domestic affections. Moreover, his solemn, mournful air renders him a fit symbol of the most pensive side of nature. The nest of this species, found here late in May, placed in a bush or tree, on the roots of a windfall, on a stump, or on the ground, is generally a slight and loose construction of dry twigs, and perhaps a few rootlets, built in what is called the platform style ^ so slight that one can scarcely imagine how the eggs can be hatched and the young ones raised on it; and contains two beautiful white eggs, measuring about 1.12 X .85. A nest now before me, some two inches or more in thickness, and found in an orchard, is made of neat, crooked twigs, more or less covered with lichens, and very artistically laid. It is finished on the top with fine rootlets, skeleton-leaves, and bits of wool; and is a very gem of its kind, reminding one of some fancy log-cabin. The young Doves are well matured before they leave the nest, and sit side by side upon the ordinarily rude affair. At night the old one sits crosswise on them, even when they are quite large, the nest and birds together thus making quite a grotesque pile. The diet of these birds is well stated by Wilson, who says they "are exceedingly fond of buckwheat, hemp-seed and Indian corn; feed on the berries of the holly, the dogwood, and poke, huckleberries, partridge-berries, and the small acorns of the live oak and shrub oak. They devour large quantities of gravel, and sometimes pay a visit to the kitchen- garden for peas, for which they have a particular regard." The Mourning Doves, or Carolina Turtle Doves, as they are sometimes called, may often be seen dusting themselves in the road; and, at all times, their flight is very noticeable from the sharp whistling noise produced by each stroke of THE WHITE.RUMPED SHRIKE. 169 the wings. They are abundant summer residents, many also spending the winter throughout the Middle States; becoming rare already in New England, they barely extend into the British Provinces. Many migrate to the Southern States, where they spend the winter in large flocks; and many remain there during the summer. The Mourning Doves are also common to the Pacific Coast. The elegant White-headed Dove of the West India Islands is a summer resident of the Florida Keys. About 13.12 long, the "general color throughout is dark slaty-blue, becoming very dark on the tail above and black beneath." Crown pure white; back of neck rich purplish-brown; sides of the neck elegant iridescent green, with golden reflections and a fine black margin to each feather. The Zenaida Dove, with a most plaintive and pathetic note, has been found by Audubon only, on the Florida Keys. The plain but elegant little Ground Dove, only seven inches long, **a constant resident throughout the Carolinas and southward, may be so easily known by its diminutive size that it needs no description. Its rather elaborate nest of twigs and weeds lined- with usnea, and .containing one or two creamy white eggs, some .85 X .64, may be on the ground, or in a bush or tree. The Key West Dove appears in summer on Key West, as implied by its name. Excepting the Ground Dove, the above group of Doves belongs to the West Indies, and barely reaches the localities named in summer. THE WHITE-RUMPED SHRIKE. About this 12th of April I observe a quite common bird of this locality, the White-rumped Shrike {Collurio ludovicianus var. excubitoroides)^ already mated. Single individuals of this species are here in March, and their first brood may be hatched by the latter part of April, a second appearing in 1 :Kfl K^^Rj ■ s.* ^S iS * KHI^H ^-MB^ffl vm -1^ '^m ivHw li 170 THE WHITE-RUMPED SHRIKE. July. Some 8.50-0.00 long, it is about an inch shorter than the Northern Shrike {Collurio borealis)^ and precisely the size of the Loggerhead {Collurio ludovicianus) of the Gulf States, of which latter it is now regarded as a mere variety, occupying the more western and northwestern regions. Coues gives its habitat: " Middle Province of North America, to the Saskatchawan; east through Kansas, Iowa, Ohio, Illinois and Wisconsin, to New York and Canada West, probably into New England. In the Southern States, replaced by typical ludovicianus. On the Pacific Coast, not observed north of California. South through Mexico." Frank R. Rathbun, in his list of birds of Central New York, states that it is "a not uncommon summer resident." Bluish-ash above, white beneath (sometimes rather gray- ish-white), patches from the base of the bill across the eyes and auriculars, the rounded wings and tail, black; spot in the base of the primaries, tips of some of the secondaries, edging of the scapulars, sides of the tail and rump, white; bill and feet black — ^this bird is really beautiful, especially in its flight, which is low and straightforward, with rapid strokes, showing the clear white and black of the wings and tail to fine advantage. The rapid wing motion seems almost to describe contiguous semicircles of white and black at the sides of the moving bird, and contrast finely with its clear, light colors. It perches on some solitary tree in the open field, on a fence-stake, or on the hedge; sitting motionless as a Hawk, while it watches its vicinity for its favorite items of prey, consisting of various small insects, beetles, grasshoppers, mice, and small birds, which last it may not infrequently be seen lugging by the head as it flies from point to point, or munching at its leisure when perched. The orchard is decidedly a favorite resort of this bird. Here, saddled on the limb of an apple-tree, it builds its THE WHITE.RUMPED SHRIKE. IVI strongly characterized nest of sticks, coarse weeds, rootlets, shreds of bark, woody fibers, dried grasses, thread, wool, and feathers, the lining consisting particularly of the last- mentioned items. The whole structure is bulky and ragged, the rim being so thick, loose and irregular as almost to hide the eggs, which may be partially buried in the care- lessly-arranged lining. The eggs, 6 or 6, about 1.00 x "i^ are dull white, spotted with greenish-gray or brown, and a more neutral tint of lilac-gray. The nest may be placed in a solitary tree of the open field, or in the thick part of the hedge. Having taken a nest with 6 fresh eggs on the 28th of April, by the end of the first week in May another had been built and contained 3 eggs. During the breeding season the male may be frequently seen perched on the fence by the road-side. This is almost a silent bird, the male occasionally uttering a loud peemPy peempy in the mating period, and the female uttering a pro- longed guttural squeak when startled from her nest. The latter resembles a weaker note of the Vireos, uttered under like circumstances. The young Shrikes resemble their parents, except that the colors are not so pure and bright, and they have a light- brownish wash across the breast, in which, as also in the ashen- gray of the upper parts, there is a fine, dark cross-penciling. The White-rumped Shrike leaves us late in the fall. The Shrikes are a strange family of birds. With the bill and head of a Falcon, the mouth-bristles of a Flycatcher, the feet and laryngeal muscles of a song-bird, the dietetic habits of a Hawk, and, in the case of our American species, the color of the Mockingbird, ornithologists have been much puzzled as to their place in classification. In the latest American works, they rank between the Vireonidce and the FringillidcB. I ii I CHAPTER X. LATER IN APRIL. THE DABCHICK. ON the 15th of April, I go to Lake Ontario at the mouth of Johnson's Creek to spend a few days in observing and collecting. As I stealthily approach the creek near its outlet, I see a Dabchick {Podilymbus podiceps) swimming among the rushes. Occasionally he emits a clear whistle not unlike the peep of the Hylas. How spry he is, darting hither and thither, diving to reappear many rods away, and shaking his head violently as he emerges. I cannot tell one moment where to look for him the next. No wonder he has received the common name — Water- witch Now he starts up and flies a few rods, patting the surface of the water with his lobate feet, as if he were half flying and half running. His head turns so quickly in every direction that I cannot decide whether he sees me or not, only as I imply it from his sink- ing so deeply as he swims whenever he rises after diving, and finally from his disappearing among the sedges. This is no doubt a breeding place of this species, as are also the marshes about Grand Island, in Niagara River. In August or September, when the family is well grown, it is interest- ing to watch them at their sports in their quiet haunts. They seem most active between daylight and sunrise. Then, if one is well hid away by the still water, their active swim- ming and graceful diving can be seen to good advantage. THE DABCmCK. 173 Spreading considerably apart, they allow themselves plenty of room. How the ripples, started by their breasts, enlarge like arcs of circles on the glassy surface, and intersecting each other, move on increasingly to the shore. In quick suc- cession they glide softly under the water, and remain for some time, no doubt taking their food of small fishes and aquatic grasses. Nothing can exceed the ease and graceful- ness with which they dive, so tipping under the water as barely to ruffle the mirror-like surface. Presently they reappear, one after another, shaking their heads, and look- ing this way and that as if to make sure of their safety, but still swimming well out of the water. Gliding along much more rapidly than Ducks, they describe their elegant curves for a few seconds, and then all disappear again. What a happy family they are! Should they take alarm, using their wings to aid in swimming, they will literally fly under water, coming up a long distance away, and so contracting their bodies in respiration, and thus lessening their specific gravity, as barely to protrude the head or bill on coming up to breathe, and probably in a few minutes will all entirely disappear among the sedges and cat-tails. Though easily shot when not on the lookout, if once sus- picious of danger it is almost impossible to capture them, since they will dive between the flash of the gun and the arrival of the charge. How does any bird dare to set out on the immense flights of migration with such tiny wings! They might serve the same purpose as the fins of a fish, but who would imagine them at all sufficient for flight! Indeed, the wing of the Grebe is a compromise between a wing and a fin, it being the smallest wing possible for flight to a bird of its size — and what a mere apology for a tail is that little tuft of hair — a common mark of all the Grebes. The lit. \i 174 THE DABCHICK. posterior position of his legs, making him appear in stand- ing like an ancient skin-bottle, as well as his long lobate toes, clearly shows that he was not made for walking, but for swimming. He seems to understand alike his weakness and his strength, for when disturbed, he prefe'-s to take to the water rather than to the air — hence that common but rather profane name of the family — "Hell-divers.'' If there are birds which seem to be designed to live almost entirely in the air, here is a kind evidently designed to live almost entirely on the water. Its migrations would seem to be by means of the great water-courses, rather than through the aerial highways. Its food is taken from the water, and its nest is a floating fabric. The Grebes belong to the order Pygopodes, or Diving Birds, and con;'titute the strongly marked family Podicipidce. They stand next to the Loons which they resemble quite strongly, notwithstanding many minor points of differ- ence, and they are the last family in the present systems of classification of birds. The breast-bone is very firm, and the keel is large. The lower region of the bones of the back has the same keel-like ridge which, to receive the immense muscles of the thigh, is so noticeable in the skeleton of the Loon. The legs extend backward, and are joined by strong muscles to the back, to secure facility in diving, the bird kicking upward against the water in thip act. The tarsi are almost as flat as a knife-blade, which form greatly aids in swimming, as it affords the least possible resistance; the feet are contiauously lobed, and more or less joined by a web at the bases of the toes, the claws on the latter being flattened like human toe-nails. The bill is generally rather long and pointed. The eyes are far forward, with a bare space in front. The exquisite coat of down in which the young appear is black, elegantly striped with white, and THE DABCHICK. 176 marked with red about the head. In most species the color of the plumage changes greatly with the season, and there is a conspicuous ruff or ornament about the head of the male in the breeding period. The plumage of the under parts has a peculiar open structure and a satiny, lustrous surface, inducing its use as fur. The nesting habits of the family are similar throughout. The Dabchick is some 13.00 long. The bill, which is shorter and thicker than that of most Grebes, is pale blue, with a black ring around the part perforated by the nostril. The upper parts are dark brown, the fore-neck reddish, belly white, sides grayish; under the chin there is a black spot in spring, the only distinguishing mark of the breeding season. In the fall this last mark is wanting, and the young have the throat white, streaked with dark. Late in the fall even the young are much smaller than the parents. Having had my attention called to the breeding of this species at St. Clair Flats by the communications in the Oologist — now Ornithologist and Ooiogist — by Mr. W. H. Collins, a distinguished taxidermist of Detroit, I gave the matter a ca?-etul investigation when visiting that place in the spring of 1882. The nest, built up from the bottom in watie; f om a foot to eighteen inches deep, to several inches above the water, is a sort of pier, sheltered by sedges, cat-tails and rushes; and though stationary as thus pro- tected, is so nearly afloat that any considerable agitation of the water will rook it to and fro. It is a carefully laid pile of soaked and decaying rushes of former years, and other decaying matter from the bottom, with a good deal of the larger fresh water algae mixed in. Cylindrical, some 18 inches in diameter, and symmetrically rounded at the top, and having a slight depression for the eggs, it is the wettest, dirtiest, nastiest thing to be conceived of in the way ' .TO, . I 178 TJ/£ DABCHICK. of a bird's nest. On this filthy arrangement are placed some six or eight eggs, about 1.25 x -87, white, tinged or waved with light green, the surface being rather rough or granulc.ted. They are soon soiled from contact with the nest. The birds are exceedingly on the alert, leaving the nest, and partially covering the eggs with the wet material, and getting entirely out of sight before the nest is discovered. On examining the ne t, however, there can be no doubt as to the method of incubation. The eggs are quite warm, and there is nothing in the condition or temperature of the nest that will at all account for the warmth. The newly hatched young, jet-black, with six narrow, white stripes over the back extending up on the neck, and red or reddish markings about the head, underneath white, bill red, and feet black, are truly beautiful; and so keen is their instinct of fear as soon as they are out of the shell, that they will scramble off the nest and hide among the rushes before one can detect the nest; and but for their chicken-like peeping, their presence would not be suspected. Meanwhile the plaintive whistle of the parent bird may be heard in the vicinity, now here, now there, but seldom, indeed, does she allow herself to be seen. Now ensconce yourself away and remain quiet for a few minutes, and this mother diver will make her appearance, looking sharply in every direction, and softly whistling together her scattered brood. Well understanding these coaxing notes, the little ones gather around her from among the rushes and sedges, and, as she swims deeply, mount on her back for a ride. This is truly a pretty sight, as well calculated to soften the heart as is the cooing of the Dove. Occasionally you will see this bird take her young under her wings, when alarmed, and dive with them, the little ones remaining under for some time, but generally coming up before the parent, THE HORNED GREBE. 177 The Dabchick 'breeds abundantly about St. Clair Flats, still more abundantly to the northwest, as in Northern Min- nesota and Dakota, and more or less, indeed, from the northern limits of the Southern States to the Gulf of St. Lawrence; and though its winter habitat is in the South- ern States, it has been found in midwinter as far north as . Southern New England. THE HORNED GREBE. The Horned Grebe {Podiceps cornutus) is the most numer- ous member of its family in this locality during the migra- tions. In the last week of April or the first week of May, it is very common on our streams and ponds. On the broad and beautiful current of Niagara River, below the gorge, these birds may then appear in flocks of hundreds; and their sport- ing and diving is a sight worth seeing. Now they are all gliuing hither and thither along the surface; now they go down in rapid succession till every bird is under water, and again they come up as quickly, till the vast number is once more in full sight. Now the male expands his ruff to full effect, giving his thus greatly enlarged head, set off with pointed bill and red eyes, altogether a peculiar appearance. Probably all the Grebes migrate for the most part by means of the great water-courses, and so depend but little on their rather imperfect powers of flight in this great emergency. In the early days of spring, as the Horned Grebes pass along our inland water-courses, it is so common to see them in pairs that I infer they must mate before leaving their winter habitat. About 14.00 long, wing some 6.00, bill .75 and quite slender and pointed, the male has the crest and ruffs well developed. Very dark brown above, many of the feathers generally fringed with light gray; below satiny 12 t 178 THE HORNED GREBE. ii white, the curved secondaries white; the black head and ruffs with a yellowish-brown tuft or horn extending from the eye to the back of the head, the continuation cf the same in front of the eye chestnut; the neck, except a black strip down the back, chestnut or brownish-red; sides and flanks brown and white mixed. The '/emale is similar, with the ruff much reduced, and the colors less pure and bright. Concerning the breeding of this species, Dr. Coues says: " I found it breeding at various points in Northern Dakota, as along the Red River, in the prairie sloughs, with Coots, Phalaropes and various Ducks, and in pools about the base of Turtle Mountain, in company with P. calif amicus and the Dabchick. I took fresh eggs on the 20th of June at Pem- bina, finding them scattered on a soaking bed of decayed reeds, as they had doubtless been disturbed by the hasty movements of the parents in quitting the nest; there were only four; probably more would have been laid. They are elliptical in shape, with little or no difference in contour at either end; dull whitish, with a very faint shade, quite smooth, and measure about 1.70 x 1.20. On Turtle Moun- tain, late in July, I procured newly-hatched young, swim- ming with their parents in the various pools. At this early stage the neck is striped, as in the common Dabchick." The autumnal dress of this Grebe is so different from that above described of the spring, that one not aware of the identity of the bird in its changed habit would suppose it to be another species. The ruff is barely indicated by a slight lengthening of the feathers about the head, while the back and under parts are nearly as in spring; the crown, back part of the neck, and the sides are a sooty gray; the chin, throat and sides of the head, white; forepart of the neck, light ashy-gray. Thus clad, they appear in Western New York in October, sometimes singly or in small numbers, on THE RED-NECKED GREBE. 179 Streams and ponds, sometimes in Hocks of hundreds along the margin of Lake Ontario; or on other large bodies of water. In their autumnal appearance there is something particularly chaste and elegant, and finely in harmony with the cold, gray surf in which they are so sprightly and active. THE CRESTED GREBE. The Crested Grebe {Podiceps cristatus) is common in North America, especially in the more northern parts of the conti- nent, and is also abundant in Western Europe. It is much larger than either of those above described, being some 24.00 long and about 33.00 in extent. The ruff on the male of this species is very large, and the crest, looking very much like two horns, is very conspicuous. The crown, crest and terminal part of the ruff is glossy black; base of le ruff bright reddish-brown; fulvous over the eye; cheeks and throat silky white; back of the neck and upper parts, generally, dark brown, the feathers edged with light-brown or gray; sides of the body reddish, streaked with dusky; fore-neck, and under parts, pure silky white. In this bright spring plumage, the male, with his long, slender, graceful neck, is a truly beautiful object on the water. In the autumn the crest and the ruffs are absent, and the head and neck are of the same continuous plain color. This species breeds to the north, and is said to construct the same bulky, floating nest, tied to the reeds and rushes, as the rest of the family; and to have eggs similar, only correspondingly larger. THE RED-NECKED GREBE, The Red-necked Grebe {Podiceps griseigena var. holbolli) is also found in North America. It is quite a little less in length than the former, being only 19 inches, but it is more bulky, and its bill and tarsi are much shorter. The adult ! %i 180 PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. breeding plumage is described by Dr. Coues as follows: ** Crests short and ruffs scarcely apparent. Bill black, the tornia of the upper mandible at base and most of the lower mandible yellowish. Crown and occiput glossy greenish- black; back of the neck the same, less intense, and the upper parts generally the same, with grayish edgings of the feathers. Wing-coverts and primaries uniform chocolate- brown, the shafts of the latter black. Secondaries white, mostly with black shafts and brownish tips. Lining of wings and axillars white. A broad patch of silvery-ash on the throat, extending around on sides of the head, whitening along line ot juncture with the black of the crown. Neck, except the dorsal line, deep brownish-red, which extends diluted some distance on the breast. Under parts silky white, with a shade of silvery-ash, each feather having a dark snaft-line and terminal spot, producing a peculiar dappled appearance." To the far northwest there are also the Eared Grebe and the Western Grebe. PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. Before entering Lake Ontario, Johnson's Creek bends northward, and again runs but a little north of westward, thus entering obliquely, and forming a narrow point of land between its right bank and the lake. This point is for the most part well wooded, as is also a considerable part of the opposite bank, thus making a fair retreat for water- fowl in their migrations. Here the creek is pretty wide, and its surface is smooth. As I sit on the bank, concealed in the bushes, a flock of some dozen Ducks drops into the stream a distance up, br.t near enough to be well studied with the aid of a glass. They are Widgeons {Mareca ameri- cana) and Pintails {^Dafila acuta). Both are beautiful species of our fresh waters, and are frequently seen together, when PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 181 they come from the north from September onward, and again when they return to their breeding grounds in spring, which is generally during April, but is sometimes as late as the first week in May. Not only do they journey together, but they continue together, and also in company with the Teals and Mallards, being often in large flocks in the South- ern States in winter, and breeding abundantly together in the north, especially about the cedar swamps of Hud- son's Bay, and the lowlands of Milk River and its tribu- taries, as also through Northern Dakota and Montana generally. In the first-named locality the Pintail is said to breed the most abundantly of all the Ducks. This species, inclusive of the long, ornamental feathers in the center of hl:> tail, is 29.00 long, and his extent of wings is 36.00; bill long and narrow; neck very long and slender; head a glossy dusky-brown to half-way down the neck in front, the centers of the feathers being darker, and the whole somewhat tinged with violet or green toward the back of the head; front of the lower neck, and strips up the side of it to the back of the head, white; strip down the back of the head black, becoming gray on the neck; upper parts of a general grayish or dusky effect, the dusky feathers being for the most part delicately penciled with white; the long-pointed scapulars, tertiaries and tail feathers, except the two long black ones in the center, black or dusky, edged or streaked with white or gray; beauty spot green, the bar in front rich olive, that behind white; under parts white, often tinged with olive. The female, having the feathers in the center of the tail only about a half-inch longer than the rest, and being otherwise slightly smaller than the male, is but 22.00 long, with some 34.00 extent of wing; her head is dark brown, her neck dingy white, thickly specked with brown; the dusky, or ■•. -i si m •■■■ i. •r I I U R 182 PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. ii blackish of the upper parts is marked crosswise with brown- ish-white; breast and under parts, brownish- white, marked with white. On the still waters of this creek, sheltered on both sides by the woods, this Duck is well at home, since it is emphat- ically an inland species — frequenting prairie sloughs, ponds and rivers, seldom reaching the sea coast and never breed- ing with the Ducks of the ocean to the north. What a striking object of beauty is that male, swimming with his breast well immersed and his back parts thrown up, his elegant tail elevated almost to the perpendicular, his long, slender, swan-like neck sinuating most gracefully about him, and every part of his lengthy and finely-formed body marked and colored in brilliant contrasts! The Pintails, four males and four females, separate from the Widgeons, the one flock going to one side of the creek and the other to the opposite side. The Pintails swim close together, and seek their food in the shallow margins. They do not dive so as to disappear, but, immersing their head and breast, throw up their feet into the air. They are no doubt in search of tadpoles, for which they labor with much avidity in spring. As they raise their heads above water, the males occasionally utter a rather soft and musical jabber, wholly unlike the hoarse squak of the Mallard or the Dusky Duck. Discerning no object of danger, and feeling perfectly at home in this retired nook, they go ashore in the edge of the woods and turn over the leaves in search of snails, insects, and the beech-nuts of last year, scarcely sprouted as yet. One even snaps his bill at a passing fly, while another captures a drowsy, fluttering moth, just abroad from his winter quarters. How finely they walk with tails erect. Ah! they have taken alarm, and rise en masse on wing. Were I within range of shot I might take them all PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS, 183 with the contents of one barrel, so closely do they fly. Once aloft in the air they are a most graceful figure in the landscape; their full length of neck, body and tail, with short and quiet flap of the wings, giving them the appear- ance of a volley of huge arrows against the clear ether. What could awaken more pleasing emotions than scenes like these? Concerning the breeding habitat of the Pintail, Dr. Coues says: "Although I have not recognized it in the Missouri region proper during the breeding season, yet I found it to be one of the commonest of the various Ducks that nest in the country drained by the Milk River and its tributaries throughout most of the northern parts of Montana. In traveling through that country in July, I found it on all the prairie pools and alkaline lakes. At this date the young were just beginning to fly, in most instances, while the old birds were for the most part deprived of flight by moulting of the quills. Many of the former were killed with sticks, or captured by the hand, and afforded welcome variation of our hard fare. On invasion of the grassy "jr reedy pools where the Ducks were, they generally crawled shyly out upon the prairie around, and there squatted to hide, so that we procured more from the dry grass surrounding than in the pools themselves. I have sometimes stumbled <^hus upon several together, crouching as close as possible, and caught them all in my hands." He then adds from Dr. Dall concerning this same species: " Extremely common in all parts of the Yukon, and on the marshes near the sea coast. In the early spring, arriving about May 1st, at Nulato, it is gregarious; but as soon as it com- mences to breed, pbout May 20th, or later, they are gen- erally found solitary or in pairs. Their nest is usually in the sedge, lined with dry grass, and, in the absence of both ■*■■; 'P' t4t w 184 PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. parents, is covered with dry leaves and feathers. * * * • They lay from six to ten, or even twelve eggs, and as soon as the young are hatched they withdraw from the river to the small creeks and rivulets, where they remain until the ducklings are fully able to fly, when all repair to the great marshes, where, on the roots of the horse-tail (Equisetum), they grow so fat that frequently they cannot raise themselves above the water." It is further added, that "a nest-complement of seven eggs, from the Yukon, now in the Smithsonian, furnishes the following characters: Size 2.10 X 1.60-2.30 X 1-55; shape, rather elongate ellipsoidal; color, uniform dull gray- ish-olive, without any buff or creamy shade." This species is common also to the Old World. Our American Widgeon, or Baldpate, though very simi- lar in size, form, and marking to that of Europe, is still specifically different. Some 22 inches long and 30 in extent, the bill is slate-color, the nail black; the crown creamy, sometimes almost white; cheeks and n^ck the same, specked and spotted with black; patch from around the eye to the nape, including the pendent crest, glossy green; line down the back of the neck, the breast and sides, vinous or purp- lish-brown— the tips of the feathers somewhat hoary and the sides cross-penciled with wavy lines of black; belly, white; crest, black; back and scapulars, vinous bay, ele- gantly crossed with wavy lines of black; lower back, pri- maries, and tail, the central feathers of which are elongated, dusky; speculum velvety black, with a cross-line of glossy green next to the coverts which are white, the greater ones tipped with black and bounded with gray above; the outer web of the elongated tertiaries velvety — black edged with white; under tail-coverts black, contrasting strongly with the white vent. PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 185 The female has the head and neck brownish-white, thickly specked and streaked with black; back and scapulars, dusky- brown, the feathers edged with drab or light reddish- brown, those on the back elegantly waved with narrow lines of chestnut-red; wing dusky, speculum and coverts edged with white; the purplish-brown of the breast some- what as in the male, but lighter, and mixed with dusky; under parts like the male, except the tail-coverts, which are white and brown-spotted. This bird has the habits of our fresh-water Ducks in gen- eral, spending the winter on the rivers, streams, bays, lakes, ponds, and flooded fields of the Southern States; it feeds on rice, grains, the seeds of grasses, roots, aquatic insects, mast, and small fry. Whether on the land or on the water it is a beautiful and graceful object. On the wing it is direct and swift, having the whistling stroke more or less common to its near allies. Swimming or flying, the flocks move compactly, and so afford a good sight to the marks- man. The Widgeon may tarry with us till well on in Ap/il, and returns again from the north early in September, and may be seen through October. Pairing before starting for its breeding grounds, it has a soft, whistling or flute note — szwee, szwee. Concerning its nidification. Dr. Coues says: "The Widgeon breeds in abundance in Northern Dakota and Montana, along the banks of the streams and pools. Some such places which I visited, the resort of many pairs of various Ducks during the breeding season, and of innumer- able flocks during the migrations, resemble the duck-yard of a farm, in the quantities of moulted feathers and amount of ordure scattered everywhere. I was surprised to find young Widgeons still unable to fly, even as late as the middle of ■I I. ■■n ^^^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 23. 12.5 ■so 2.2 lU 140 m i 1.4 11^ m 1.6 ■V2 /3 *^. *^V' ^^' ^> Photographic Sdences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO (716)872-4503 *^% ''^A^ ^ ^ x>- 186 THE SCAUP DUCK, September, at a time when all the other Ducks observed were well on the wing. Although this bird passes far north, many nest in various parts of the United States. Audubon notices its breeding in Texas, and others in the Middle States, about the Great Lakes, and in Oregon. Mr. Dall found it nesting along the Yukon with the Pintail." The Widgeon's eggs are 8-12, 2.00 x l.oO, pale buff. THE SCAUP DUCK. On the 16th I go about two miles westward along the lake shore in company with a friend to a place where a small stream enters the lake through a Igtv tract of land, and, a'A the mouth is frequently closed with the stones ahd gravel thrown up by the waves, the waters thus obstructed form a large irregular pond, and afford a resort for Ducks, spring and fall. As we approach this pond we discover a ffock of soir^r^ half-dozen Scaup Ducks {Fuli^ula martVa), swimming in a line, near the farther bank. In the act of swimming the white feathers of the sides are thrown up over the wing^, so that the males appear white with black heads. How rapidly and gracefully they move! Scrambling along almost on hands and knees we pass to the other side on a ridge of small stones and gravel now thrown across the narrow mouth of the pond, and follow a depression behind the opposite bank, thus coming within short range of the Ducks without being seen. We rise and fire, and only kill one Duck, which neither of us can claim with certainty. The rest of the flock fly out over the lake, which is lashed into fury by the wind, and Instantly return to see what is become of the missing one. The Scaup Duck, Black-head, or Blue-bill — for it is known by all these common names — is 16 or 17 inches in length, rather short and flat-bodied, with an unusually THE SCAUP DUCK. 187 broad bill of a clear light-blue; the male has the head^ neck, shoulders, and breast black, with soft reflections of green and violet on the head and upper part of the neck, with a tendency to a broad, brcwn ring around the lower part of the neck; back white, crossed by broad zigzag lines of black; rump, tail, and wing^s blaqk, the latter with reflections of green, and having the secondaries white, tipped, and slightly edged with black; tertiaries, and shoulders finely sprayed with white; under parts and sides white, the latter delicately touched with gray. The female, having a broad, white mark at the base of the upper mandible, has the entire upper parts grayish-brown, lighter about the head, neck, and breast; the ends of the feathers on the back sometimes delicately sprayed with white, or silvery gray; under parts white. The young males, resembling the females, may be found in all stages between, as they approximate maturity. The Scaup dives well for its food, a flock thus engaged affording a lively sight. They are by no means so shy as some of their kind; and, on being put up, do not generally fly far before alighting. This Duck, common to the whole northern hemisphere, is found alike on fresh and salt waters, and is very common in this locality during migration. They appear on Niagara River in great flocks in the migrations, especially in April. Then they keep for the most part to certain feeding grounds, and have a peculiar way of huddling together, with a swarming motion which marks them from other Ducks even in the distance, and in some places has given them the name Flocking Fowl. As they rise from the water, their thick heads, short necks, and short, plump bodies, as also the plover-like markings in their wing^, clearly distinguish them. Like the following, they remain on Niagara during severe winters. Mr. Maynard reports them as particularly 188 THE BUFFLE-HEADED DUCK. abundant in Florida during winter, " fairly swarming on the St. Johns and Indian rivers, gathering in such large and compact flocks, especially at night, that they are called Raft Ducks.. In rising from the water, at such times, they make a noise like thunder. The earlier American ornitholo- gists were aware of a great difference in the size of different Scaups in this country, and the later writers have separated them into two species, on account of this disparity in size. The specific name of the smaller kind is Affinis. Both kinds seem to have about the same distribution on this continent. They breed in British America and in Alaska, the nest being " very rude, a mere excavation with a few sticks about it." The nest has been found, however, on St Clair Flats, and there is a rumor that this species breeds regularly in the marshes alonjj the south side of Lake Superior. Dr. Coues found them breeding in large numbers along the Upper Missouri and Milk River. The eggs, from 1.60 x 2.26 to 1.66 X 2.30, are said to be ashy-green in color, of a dark tint peculiar to the species. THE BUFFLE-HEADED DUCK. Stealthily approaching the stream a little above the pond a few hours later, we discover a pair of Buffle-heads (Buce- phala albeola)y male and female, riding most gracefully down the current. Previous to seeing the male of this species on the water, I could not conceive the propriety of one of its common names, "Spirit Duck"; but so graceful is the puffed plumage of the head and neck, and so striking is the contrast of jet-black and snow-white, that on beholding the male float lightly, like a beautiful apparition, on the glassy surface of some pond or stream, one feels that the name is really descriptive. Buffle-head, or Butter-ball, is some 14 inches long. The i THE BUFFLE-HEADED DUCK. 189 head, excqpting the broad, white band extending from behind eyes around the back of the head and upper part of the neck, including the long thick feathers of the latter, is black, with green and purple reflections; the back, tail, and greater part of the wings are black; remaining parts white. The female, which is still smaller, and destitute of the puffed plumage . peculiar to the head and neck of the male, has the entire upper parts black, becoming ash on the breast and white underneath, and has a white mark on the sides of the head and in the wings. A little while afterward I saw on Johnson's Creek a beau- tiful male in company with some half-dozen females. This is one of the commonest of our fresh-water Ducks. They are most common in April and October. During th(? former month they are quite common, in small flocks, on Niagara River. As a few remain in the State (New York) during winter, they are sometimes found on this rapid, open current during the coldest weather, probably being excluded at such times from the more quiet water-courses by the ice. It is a most expert and graceful diver, the male holding his crest closely before plunging. It is, indeed, a pleasing entertainment to watch a half-dozen of these Ducks — they never go in large flocks — diving in some open space among the great drives of ice-cakes along the shore. The young have been taken on the lakes of the Adirondack Mountains; but as " it usually retires to high lati- tudes to breed, as along the Yukon and elsewhere in boreal America, its nidiflcation is not generally known. A set of 14 eggs taken, the accompanying label states, from a feathery nest in a dead poplar, some distance from the ground, fur- nishes the following description: Shape, perfectly ellipsoidal; size, slightly over 2 inches in length by 1^ in breadth; color, a peculiar tint, just between rich creamy-white and f wv ido THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. grayish-olive, unvaried by marking^. Other eggs are described as being 1^ long by 1^ broad, and bufif-colored." (Coues). Not being as shy as some Ducks, and flying rather low, this elegant little species may be taken with tolerable ease. As it lives largely on mollusks and small crustaceans, its flesh is not the most savory. THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. As I point my glass out over the great lake, lashed into fury by a strong northeast wind, I see a large flock of Red- breasted Mergansers or Shell-drakes {Mergus serrator) beat- ing their way against the wind, and flying low over the cold, gray waters. As they skim the water in the distance, their long, slender head and neck, as well as the narrowness of their form in general, clearly mark their identity. Common both to Europe and North America, this species is with us in large numbers in late autumn and early spring, remaining during winter if the waters are sufficiently open. This is one of the most abundant species on the Niagara during April and the early part of May. Their long, slender, gracei ul figure, and the bright marking of the males, render them very conspicuous both on the water and in flight. On the water they are particularly proud and graceful, swimming lightly and swiftly, holding their heads high, and their long, loose crests playing in the wind. They seem to be paired on their arrival, the mates generally keeping with each other even in the largest flocks. The males, however, are quite inclined to turn aside occasionally, and give attention to other females than their own. At such times, as also when addressing their mates, they have a peculiar motion of the head and body. The male will approach the female, and stretch up his neck. THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. 191 raising the fore part of his body out of the water, and, plunging forward, will make a low bow with a peculiar jerk of Che head, expanding his red gape wide open, and lifting his tongue in a very noticeable manner. Feeding mostly on small fishes, these Mergansers dive readily and deeply, seeming to prefer rapid currents, against which they " hold their own " for hours while fishing. Always partial to fresh waters, it bred in many parts of our Middle and Eastern States, in Audubon's time, he having found on two occasions the female in charge of her brood in the lower parts of Kentucky. It still breeds com- monly 1; >m Northern New England and the upper regions of the Great Lakes, through New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, the Magdalen Islands, Labrador, Newfoundland, etc. It breeds sparingly throughout the great Northwest Territory, but Mr. Fortiscue does not record it from Hudson's Bay. The nests are placed on small islands in large bodies of fresh water, or near fresh water ponds, and along the margins of streams, in the tall grass or sedges, or under low bushes. Thus unlike the other Mergansers, which build for the most part in holes in trees, this species nests on the ground. The nest is made like that of a Duck — and Ducks' nests in general are very much alike — and, like it, accumulates quite a quantity of down as incubation proceeds. The eggs, 6-12, but sometimes as many as 18, are about 2.65 X 1.V2, oval, with strong and smoothly-polished shells, and of a greenish-brown tint. They are generally deposited from the middle of May to the middle of June or later, according to latitude. The young, elegant, little brown creatures, with white or grayish-white under parts, make for the water at once, and dive and swim with the utmost readiness. "At the approach of autumn they resemble the old females; but the sexes can easily be distinguished by exam- 102 THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. ining the unguis or extremity of the upper mandible, which will be found to be white or whitish in the males, and red or reddish in the females. The young males begin to assume the spring dress in the beginning of February, but they do not acquire their full size and beauty until the second year." (Audubon.) The male of this species is 24 inches long, with bill car- mine; head, crest and upper part of the neck black, with a green gloss; the rest of the neck white, with a black line adown from the crest; upper part of the back velvety black, lower part of the back and upper tail coverts an elegant gray, delicately penciled with black and white; wings and scapular black, finely marked with white; breast above a light chest- nut-red, mixed with black; under parts white. He is truly beautiful. The female, having a less. perfect crest than the male, is brown or brownish-ash above, the feathers edged with lighter; the sides of the head and neck reddish; the secondaries and greater wing coverts white, thin dark bases, forming dark bands on the wing; the under parts are white, the breast being tinged with gray; the iris is red, and the feet and bill are nearly so. As is the case with other Mergansers, the male of this species has a curious enlargement and modification of the wind-pipe, the final cause of which seems difficult to explain. In the more easterly migrations, and also in the breeding habitat above designated, the Red-breast is much more common than the rest of the Mergansers. The long, slender, cylindrical, retrorse- toothed bill of the Mergansers, commonly called Fish Ducks, distinguishes the group clearly from the Ducks proper. Their diet also is more exclusively fishy, thus rendering their flesh unsavory. Their long, slender bodies, and the hindward position of their feet, specially adapt them to the pursuit of their prey THE RING-NECKED DUCK. 193 under water. The g^oup contains only eight species the world over. They are mostly in the northern hemisphere, some two species having been found in South America. The beautiful Smew or White Nun of Europe is only acci- dental in America. THE RING-NECKED DUCK. On my return from Lake Ontario, I find that a friend has shot a pair of Ring-necked Ducks {Fuligula collaris) on the New York and Erie Canal. This species, which is peculiar to North America, is a rather rare migrant in Western New York, as also in the central parts of the State, and to the eastward generally. In size and shape, including even the shape of the bill, it is very nearly related to the Scaups. In color, also, the females of the Scaups and Ring-neck are very similar, both being of a light brown, and white under- neath. The former can readily be distinguished, however, by her white band at the base of the upper mandible, while the latter has the white band only at the base of the lower mandible. The male of the Ring-neck is distinguishable from that of the Scaup by the dark brown of the entire upper parts; by his gray speculum, his chestnut ring around the middle of the neck, but more particularly by the two almost white rings around the dark bill, the one at the base and the other near the tip. The Ring-neck bears a close resemblance to the Tufted Duck of Europe, and for some time was supposed to be the same. Rising readily out of the water, it flies rapidly and high, producing a whistling sound with its wings. Not appearing in large flocks, only some ^fteen or twenty being seen together at a time, they fly rather scattered, and so afford but a poor mark to the slaughterer. Diving for their food after the manner of the Scaups, they subsist on crays, small fishes, snails, frogs, 13 194 THE BARN SWALLOW. aquatic insects, and roots and seeds of grasses. When feeding along ponds and streams, they become fat, tender and luscious. Very little seems to be known of this Duck's breeding habits, the single brood found in Maine, and the single nest of eggs reported from New Brunswick, being regarded as stray cases. Mr. Fortiscue does not report it from Hudson's Bay; reports from the great northwest ter- ritory do not mention it, and Dr. Coues is silent as to its breeding in the northwestern States and Territories. In 1876, May 27th, the nest was found by Thos. S. Roberts, of Minneapolis, Minn., in Hennepin County, about eight miles from the city. It was pretty substantially built and well finished, on the top of a pile of rotten debris — perhaps the remains of an old muskrat-house — and was lined with fine grasses, with a little moss intermixed, and a neat trim- ming of down. The nine eggs, some 2.23 X 1.60, were smooth, and " of a light greenish-white color." THE BARN SWALLOW. On the 19th of April I observe the first Barn Swallows {Hirundo horreoruni). About 4.60 long, this swallow is readily distinguishable from any other by its extensively forked tail, and by building its nest inside of the barn on the sides of beams and rafters; and is so well known to every one, as scarcely to need description or historical record. Who is not familiar with its swift, sailing flight, the widely spread tail, its manner of gliding in through open doors or windows, or the small, diamond-shaped opening in the gable of the old-fashioned barn ? Lustrous steel-blue above, which color extends down the sides of the breast in the form of an imperfect collar; belly, reddish white; breast and forehead, chestnut, he is differentiated from the Cliff or Eave Swallow, not only by the furcate tail, but also by the THE BARN SWALLOW. 196 white spots in the inner web of the tail feathers, thus form- ing a sort of sub-marginal band, and by the absence of the white spot on the forehead, from which is no doubt de- rived the specific name of Lunifrons^ given in identification of the other. Sometime in the latter half of May the Bam Swallow's nest of mud, lined with straw, feathers, etc., is built — un- less, as is frequently the case, the same birds return to the uninjured nest of the previous year — and four or five eggs, some .76 x .65 of an inch, white, specked with brown, are laid. In due time, the full-fledged young are seen perched in a row on the edge of the half-bowl nest, the free brim of which is strikingly different from the jug-nose entrance to the nest of the Eave Swallow. This row of younglings, often occupying the entire edge of the nest as they sit with tails inward, are exceedingly noisy on the appearance of the industrious parents, and swallow eagerly the food deposited in their wide-open mouths by the parent bird as she hovers in front of the nest. I wonder if the capacious mouth and gullet of the Swallow, so convenient for taking its insect prey on the wing, did not procure for it its common name ! It would seem altogether probable, though I cannot find anything on the point in either dictionaries or works on ornithology. Every part of the world has its Swallow or Swallows of some kind, and every species of this family is noted for that peculiar twitter, so strikingly conversational, that the Greeks applied the name of the Swallow as an epithet to designate the jargon of barbarian tongues. Listen to those prolonged twitterings of the Bam Swallow's family in the nest, and afterward about the beams and rafters of the barn, and again as several families perch in long rows on the telegraph wires, previous to migration ! Do they not sound like veritable sentences of some unknown Ian- 196 THE ROUGH-LEGGED HAWK. guage, uttered with g^eat spirit, and intermixed with strains of merry laughter? Already in the olden times Virgil noted the " Swallow's twitter on the chimney-tops." Bry- ant, of our own times, sings of " the gossip of Swallows through all the sky;" and Tennyson tells how the Swallows "chirp and twitter twenty million loves." The Barn Swallow sometimes raises a second brood in late June or early July. Mr. Burroughs says: "A friend tells me of a pair of Barn Swallows which, taking a fanciful turn, saddled their nest in the loop of a rope that was pen- dent from a peg in the peak, and liked it so well that they repeated the experiment next year." This American Swallow occupies North and Middle Amer- ica to the arctics, and spends the winter in the West Indies. There is a closely-allied variety, probably of the same spe- cies, Erythrogaster^ in South America. THE ROUGH-LEGGED HAWK. About the middle or twentieth of April, sailing low and slow over some wet field or marsh, or along some streamlet, much resembling both in size and movement the Red-tailed Hawk, but readily distinguished by the large amount of white in his expanded wings and tail, and plumage gener- ally, we occasionally see the Rough-legged Buzzard or Hawk {Archibuteo lagopun). It is simply a passenger to the north, breeding, as is supposed, entirely beyond the Union j returning to us again about the last of October or the first of November, and wintering farther south, in the seaward portions of the Middle and Southern States, but ilot beyond. As a passenger, it is by no means rare here. The male about 20.00 and the female about 22.00 long, this species, common to both Europe and Amer- ica, is always to be determined by its thickly-feathered THE ROUGH-LEGGED HAWK. 197 tarsus. Above, the feathers are a deep, rich brown, edged for the most part with light-red and whitish; feathers of the head and neck, yellowish-white, with a streak of brown in the center; breast, femoral and tarsul feathers, yellowish or buff, sometimes white; tail, toward the base, including under coverts, white, dark-brown toward the tip. It is characterized by a broad abdominal ban • of rich dark- brown, forming a beautiful apron. In the more easterly part of its habitat, our American Rouf^''-leg ^hade*- into a beautiful dark variety. Si rcti-johannny often called the Black ^^awk. This bird is particularly dro'vsy in it? habits, resting mo- tionless for a long time on its perch, preferring to take its low flight m dark days, or in the eveninjj twilight. Accord- ing to Sir John Richardson, it " is often seen sailing over swampy pieces of ground, and hunting for its prey by the subdued daylight, which lightens even the midnight hours in the high parallels of latitude." This habit, as also its thickly feathered tarsus, reminds one of the Owls. Its bill of fare is given as consisting of field-mice and other very small quadrupeds, lizards, frogs, even insects, and rarely birds. On the second day of last November, one of these Hawks killed a domestic fowl straying in the field in this vicinity. Immediately a trap was set, baited with the re- mains of the hen, and in a few minutes the Hawk was caught by the foot. The nest of this species, built of sticks, is placed in tall trees, sometimes on cliffs. Its three or four eggs, 2.33 X 1.75, are dull-white or creamy, smirched or blotched with brown. Wilson, who found these Hawks numerous in winter, below Philadelphia, between the Schuylkill and the Delaware, re- ports them as making a "loud squealing " as they arose on being disturbed, "something resembling the neighing of a I fti I ^.; \p i . < '■''■-. • ■I , &■' I 1 198 THE SAVANNA SPARROW, young colt, though in a more shrill and savage tone." Cooper also speaks of their calling to each other with a "loud scream." THE SAVANNA SPARROW. From the 16th to the 20th of April, the Savanna Sparrow {Passerculus savanna) arrives in these parts, and is an abundant resident until late in October or early in No- vember. About 5.60 long, with the common marking of the Sparrows above, white beneath, breast thickly spotted in streaks, this is one of the lighter colored Sparrows, and is always distinguishable by means of its yellow streak over the eye and yellowish wash on the cheeks, combined with the spotted breast, none other of our Sparrows having both of these characters. It has also a little yellow on the edge of the shoulder of the wing. In its colors and markings gen- erally it resembles the Bay-winged Sparrow in the distance, but is readily differentiated by its smaller size, and the absence of the white in the outside feathers of the tail. It has the sharp chipping note of its family, but its song is strongly marked, and may be represented by the notes, zip-zip-zip-zwree-e-e-e- e-Cy zwreCf the first three being short, subdued, and uttered in quick succession, while the fourth is louder and drawn out into a sort of trill or twitter on the upward slide, and the latter is much shorter, and with the falling inflection. The song is not loud, and has but little variation, but is one of those gentle, drowsy sounds in nature which are decid- edly soothing. While this species is not generally dispersed, it seems almost to monopolize certain upland fields and meadows, in which places its melodies are almost the only bird-song to be heard. Being strictly terrestrial, almost never rising above the fence, and keeping so closely to the fields as scarcely ever to be seen in the highway, thus being very unlike the Bay-wing, its nest is sunk into the THE SWAMP SPARROW. 199 ground like that of the latter, but is much more thoroughly concealed in the weeds or tall grass. It is slight, and com- posed almost entirely of dried grasses. The eggs, 4 or 5, often not more than 3, about .76 x -34, are greenish or grayish white, spotted and blotched with light brown and lilac, especially about the large end where the markings may become coronal. Sometimes the markings are dark brown, and become so thick as almost to conceal the ground- color. There are evidently two broods, the first in May and the second late in June. The bird leaves the nest quietly, and runs along in the g^ass apparently without alarm, even gleaning her food as she goes. The Savanna Sparrow has always been regarded as par- ticularly numerous near the sea-coast, breeds from Mary- land and corresponding latitudes northward, and winters in great abundance in the Southern States. The Ipswich Sparrow {Passerculus princeps)^ first reported by Mr. Maynard, and since found to be a rather common migrant from the north late in the fall, some remaining in New England during the winter, may be simply a more northern variety of the Savanna Sparrow, than which it is a little larger, and paler in color and markings. THE SWAMP SPARROW. As early as the 2 2d of April, in the marshes of Tona- wanda Swamp, I have heard the song of the Swamp Spar- row {Melospiza palustris). The exact notation is difficult to render in syllables. Nuttall speaks of it as "a few trilling, rather monotonous, minor notes, rv:sembling, in some measure, the song of the Field Sparrow, and appearing like /K'e, tw* tw* tw' tw* tw" twe^ and trnF twil 'fw fw* fwe, uttered in a pleasing and somewhat varied warble." I would add that the trill is in a clear, whistling tone, sound- 200 THE SWAMP SPARROW. ing V^^tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee, quite sib- ilant, the notes being essentially the same as those of the Chipping Sparrow, only in much more prolonged and musi- cal tones — a sort of enlarged and improved edition of it. Its common chipping note, too, has something of a whistling tone, rather than any hoarseness, such as is sometimes ascribed to it. Some 5.50 or upwards in length, the upper parts are a: rich reddish-brown, streaked with lighter and with black; wings deeply edged with clear brown; chin and belly white, tinged with ash; breast and sides washed with brownish, resembling the Song Sparrow somewhat, but smaller and less streaked, and without the spotted breast. It is of a warmer and more uniform brown than any of the rest of our Sparrows. The ordinary situation of the nest, according to the best ornithologists, is on the ground, after the usual manner of the Sparrows; but sometimes, especially if the ground is wet, in a bush, or tussock of sedges. I think the latter is the much more common situation of the nest. One which I found in an open, wet marsh of Tonawanda Swamp, on the 25th of May, was built into a thick tussock of sedges and cat-tails, aoout a foot from the ground. It was in the form of an inverted cone, some seven inches long, made of coarse grasses and stubble, laid in rough angular style, seeming to consist of several sections, the rim being very uneven, with points sticking up in every direction, reminding one of some rustic picket fence. It was lined with dried grasses, which were a little finer than those used in the outside. The eggs, four and sometimes five, about .77 X.61 inch, are greenish- white, finely and thickly specked, sometimes brushed with brown. I almost failed to identify the nest above referred to. THE YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER, 201 As I approached it the female slid over the side of it into the sedges and cat-tails, skulking along on the ground like a mouse; but, as she crossed an open ditch, she paused to look at me a few moments, and thus gave me the opportu- nity of recognition. A nest from Nova Scotia, now before me, was taken from a tuft of tall marsh-grass, and is altogether df fine ^ried grasses. Neatly cup-shaped, its walls are thick and com- pactly laid, and through the bottom it is deep and dense. From the points and angler of dried grasses leaning in almost every direction around its edge, it is of the same picket-fence style as the one atjove described, and the eggs are similar. This bird seems confined to Eastern North America, breeding from the Middle States to Labrador, and winter- ing in the Southern States. It is quite shy and retiring, its residence being strictly confined to the swamps and their marshy vicinity, where it raises two broods in a season. I found it very abundant among the sedges and tall grasses of the flooded mashes of St. Clair Flats. THE YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER. On the 2 2d of April, as I paddle a light boat along the meandering course of a stream of glassy smoothness in Tona- wanda Swamp, in the shrubs and bushes, which are densely thick along its margin and form a belt between either side of the stream and the tall forests in the immediate vicinity, I spy a Yellow-rumped Warbler {Dendroeca coronatd). It is a fine male flitting leisurely about; the movement of this species being always rather slow and dignified for one cf its kind. About 5.60 long, he is of a fine ash or slate color, streaked with black; line over the eye, lower eye-lid, throat, wing-bars, spots in the outer tail-feathers and belly, white; 202 THE YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER, cheeks, and spots across the upper part of the breast and adown the front, black; crown, rump and sides of the breast by the wing-shoulders, bright yellow. Does that golden crown on his head mark him as a king ? or do those bright epaulets designate him as a general-in-chief ? How- ever that may be, his dress of drab and black, ornamented with, gold, difords a striking and most elegant contrast of colors; and his size, song, general dignity, and priority of arrival entitle him to be the leader of his large and beauti- ful family, altogether peculiar to America, and of his numer- ous genus, also peculiar to North America; none of his genus, or family, arrive earlier than he, unless, indeed, it may be the Yellow Red-poll or Palm Warbler, which is exceedingly rare here; the warblers of the Old World, among which Robin-red-breast and the far-famed Nightingale are con- spicuous, being much more closely allied to our Kinglets than to the great family of their American namesakes. The female is similar, but not so bright, and the young are brownish instead of slaty, the yellow markings being quite dim. This is one of our most beautiful, as also one of our most common, warblers. Appearing in the Middle States, and in Southern New England, about the 20th of April, it passes to the north in considerable numbers for a month or more, returning southward again late in October or in November. The Yellow-mmped Warbler, or Myrtle Bird, breeds from Northern New England to the arctic regions, and northwest- ward to Alaska and Washington Territory. The nest, in a bush or tree, often an evergreen, and but a few feet from the ground, is about four inches in external and two in in- ternal diameter, and composed of weed-stalks, vegetable fibers, rootlets or grasses, often lined with feathers or hair. One before me, from Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, THE YELLOW.RUMPED WARBLER. 2U3 taken June 16th, and pretty well incubated, was found in a spruce bush, about three feet from the ground, and con- tained two eggs. Of about the usual external and internal diameters, and quite deep — some 2.60 inches — externally it is composed entirely of fine bleached grasses, and lined with a continuous and thick felt of dark-red cow's hair, such as is seen in large quantities about the stumps in spring, being rubbed off by the cattle in the first sloughing of their thick coats. Thus the nest has a very unique appearance — almost straw-color outside, and uniform dark* red or bright-brown inside. Whether of weed-stalks, vege- table fibers, rootlets or grasses, it would seem that the nest of this species is generally quite homogeneous, that is, made externally, at least, of the one kind of material. The eggs of the above nest are of the usual measurement — .72 X .64, grayish-white, pretty heavily marked about the large end, and specked all over with dark-brown and neutral. Though often getting well up among the tall trees, and tak- ing somewhat extended excursions into the air after insect prey, the Myrtle Bird is not so active on the wing as are some of the Warblers. In spring it has a somewhat loud and pleas- ing warble, tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tsweey and so resembling a musical twitter. Indeed, I have often found it difficult, when visiting the breeding grounds, to distinguish it from the song of the Snow Bird. In its migrations in the beautiful days of autumn, this Warbler is sometimes wont to lisp its song softly. Though this bird breeds so far north, its nest has been found in the Southern States and in the West Indies; and while it winters in the Southern States, and even in the tropics, it is found regularly in the same season in the Middle States, and even in Southern New England. There is a closely-allied western variety or spe- cies, called Audubon's Warbler. CHAPTER XI. LATE IN APRIL. ON the morning of the 21st of April (1880), as I am riding along the highway by the upland meadows, I spy a Sparrow Hawk {Falco sparverius), perched on a tall dried mullein-stalk, close to the road. He keeps his perch till I am not more than four rods from him, partly because he is the tamest of all the Hawks, but more especially because I am riding. Flying off in an irregular zigzag manner, and not very high, he alights in a small, solitary tree in the open field. I stop to study him. Presently he starts out from the tree, flying in his somewhat tipsy manner for a few rods, giving the impression that he is not after anything in particular, when he suddenly hovers gracefully for a few seconds, and retires to the tree again. Evidently he had it in mind to capture some little creature within the range of his keen eye, but the chase did not turn out to suit him, so he has concluded to await the next opportunity. In less than a minute he sallies forth again, barely hovers, and drops to the ground, returning to the tree with some small prey, which, as I turn the glass upon him, I discover to be a field mouse. Holding it under his claw, he tears it in pieces and swallows it with a keen appetite, and in a few minutes more is off again in a similar manner, thi: time returning with an ele- gant little snake; which, after munching it pretty thoroughly with his toothed bill, and stretching it out several times THE SPARROW HAWK. 205 with bill and claw, he swallows, with vigorous jerks of the head, nearly whole. Again he is off, and after hovering several times, spends some time on the ground, devouring something as I can plainly see by his actions, made clear by the glass; probably he is now varying his diet with some kind of insects, of which he consumes great numbers, especially such orthoptera as are most noxious to the hus- bandman. Remaining now longer than usual on his perch, he jerks his tail every few seconds, as if decidedly impatient of this long quiet. Now he flies ahnost towards me, and dashing into a thicket by the road-side, emerges with a small Sparrow in his clutches, thus proving himself true to his name. The flight is within close range of a shot-gun, and, much as this elegant and useful little Falcon merits human protection, I reflect that all things — even birds — are made for man, and so drawing the lock on him bring him down, the Field Sparrow still in his clutches. It is a male, some 10 inches long and 21 inches in extent (the smallest of our Hawks); the bill is particularly pointed and toothed; the top of his crown is reddish-chestnut, bordered with slaty, mixed with black; a streak from below the eye down the side of the throat, one across the tips of the ear- feathers, a spot on the side of the neck, and a bordering of the slaty behind the neck, black — making seven black marks about the head; back and scapulars reddish-brown, crossed with broken lines of black; wings slaty with black spots; the primaries dusky, with white spots on the inner vanes; tail reddish-brown, with a broad, sub-terminal band of black and a slight tip of white, the outer feathers being marked with black and white; under parts reddish-white, with a few roundi«^.h sp)Ots of black mostly towards the sides; bill, blue; cere and legs, yellow. The female of this species is about an inch longer; the chestnut-red on the 206 THE SPARROW HAWK. crown being streaked with slaty; the upper parts, includ- ing the tail, wholly reddish-brown, heavily cross-streaked with black; the under parts yellowish-white, streaked with light-brown; the chin, femoral feathers, and vent, clear; otherwise, like the male. The young are said to be covered with a whitish-down at first, but soon approximate the colors of the mature birds. The dashing attack of our little Falcon, through thickets and along hedges, is not only upon Sparrows, but upon the smaller birds in general. Not only the elegant Bluebird, the stately Cedar Bird, and the noisy self-conceited Cat- bird, may become its prey, but even the Robin, the Brown Thrush, and the Blue Jay — birds almost as large as itself. Unlike the true Hawks, and some other species of its family, it does not give a long chase in the open field after its prey, but, in strict pursuit, stealthily seeks the covert of bushes or hedge-rows, or it pounces upon the innocent passer-by una- wares. Seldom, indeed, does it affect the barn-yard, and then only to pick up a stray chick too remote for parental interference; and since by far the greater part of its fare consists of noxious vermin, it merits — as indeed it often obtains — the sympathy and protection of man. The Sparrow Hawk generally reaches New York from the south about the middle of April or before, sometimes even as early as March, but becomes most common early in May, when the flood-tide of the migration of the little birds is fairly set in. Then it may frequently be seen about the fields and pastures, or even passing leisurely over the crowded town, with a peculiar butterfly locomotion; and may always be distinguished from the Sharp-shinned Hawk, so near it in size, by its long-pointed wings, the Sharp-shin having rather short and broad wings. Courtship, which in the case of young males is said to be much varied THE SPARROW HAWK. 207 and protracted in its antics, begins very soon; and about the latter part of May or early in June the egg^ arc laid. As this bird breeds, however, from Mexico to Hudson's Bay, and from Maine to California, its time of nidification varies considerably according to locality. It is well understood that it generally breeds in some cavity or deserted Woodpecker's hole, pretty well up in a tree or stub — often a solitary one in the open field; and that its eggs are laid on the pulvenzed debris, with, perhaps, the merest litter of some strawy material; but it may adopt the old nest of a Hawk or Crow, may seek out a hole in the wall of some unfinished stone building, accept the old nest of the Gray Squirrel; or, as in " the canons of the eastern range of the Humboldt Mountains," may find a convenience for its nest "in hollows of limestone cliffs"; or may even find its way into an apartment by the dove-cote. The eggs, generally five, some 1.32 X 1.13, are brownish- white, specked all over, but often more about the large end, with reddish-brown; but not infrequently the ground is white or pinkish-white, with large blotches and intermedi- ate specks of light red all over — the eggs having a peculiar reddish appearance. Rarely, they are said to be whitish, with- out any marking. Unless very seriously disturbed, these Hawks occupy the same nesting place from year to year, the male sharing in incubation. They defend even their eggs with dashing flights, snapping of the bill, and indignant screams at the intruder. The young, brought out from the shell in about 15 or 16 days, are fed on grasshoppers, crickets and cater- pillars at first; but afterwards are nourished by small rep- tiles, birds and quadrupeds. At about six weeks of age they quit the nest, and when two months old they shift for themselves. This Hawk accepts no food but that of its 908 THE BLUE. WINGED TEAL. own capture, and will even reject such as is infected with parasites. It may go far beyond our southern limits in winter, but it is not found in the highest latitudes of North America in summer. ! ; I THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. On reaching a beautiful large pond, an enlargement of Oak Orchard Creek, in the edge of the wilderness of Tona- wanda Swamp, I seat myself behind a small screen of rails and bits of board in the corner of the fence, for observation. It is a beautiful sunny day, with a remarkably clear sky for the month of April. About ten o'clock in the forenoon a small flock of Blue-winged Teals {Querquedula discors) fly down the narrow, glassy stream, and alight on the farther side of the pond. How straightforward and swiftly they fly, their narrow-pointed wings beating the air with a grace- fulness and rapidity truly wonderful. Generally the Teals reconnoiter the place in cautious, circling flights, before alighting; but this is .a very retired spot, where this flock has no doubt fed undisturbed for some time; hence, with- out this ordinary precaution, they drop gently down with rigidly expanded wings, and, having glanced about them, soon immerse their heads in search of the naias flexilis and other species of the pond-weed family luxuriating in these quiet waters. Occasionally they throw up their feet and hinder parts in feeding, but generally float quietly on the water, simply plunging the head and neck. Every now and then they change their spot for feeding, swimming so grace- fully and rapidly that they seem almost like an apparition on the smooth surface. The tranquility of the place on this beautiful sunny morning is perfect. There is apparently not the slightest cause for the suspicion of danger, and the little flock of Blue-wings seem completely off their guard. THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL, 209 I cannot detect any vigilance whatever on their part. They are too far off for a shot, and this I do not particularly regret, for I am not a pot-hunter, nor a mere anatomic nat- uralist. I simply like to know what transpires in such remote and quiet nooks, and how these elegant little Ducks behave in their undisturbed haunts. I note the elegant form and deli- cately-penciled coloring of the males in this little flock of Blue- winged Teals. One of the smallest of our Ducks, it is only 16 inches long and 31 in extent of wings, with small head and bill and a slender neck; his crown, with a narrow line down the hind neck is black; there is a white crescent in front of the eye; the head is a purplish glossy drab; the back and scapulars deep dusky, with concentric wavy lines and tips of reddish; back deep dusky, edged with drab; longer scapulars and the tertiaries, greenish-black with medium line of red; wing- coverts ultra-marine, with a line of white between them and the glossy green secondaries forming the speculum; the dusky tail has a white spot on each side, with the under- coverts black; breast and under parts reddish, elegantly spotted with black. The female, about an inch shorter than the male, has the plumage generally dark brown, mar- gined with brownish- white; the cheeks and throat whitish; wmg-coverts not quite so brightly ultra-marine as in the male; the dusky-brown feathers of the under parts have a brownish-white streak or spot in the center. The female does not have the white crescent in front of the eye. The young are like the female, and the old males return in the fall migrations without the sexual markings. Lingering with us even into May, and returning early in September, this Teal is one of the last of all the migratory Ducks to leave us, and about the first to come back from its more northerly breeding grounds. Though extending far north, even to Alaska, in the breeding season, they have 14 910 THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. been known to rear their young within our limits, as well as in all suitable places intervening. Being a vegetable feeder, and a fresh-water bird, it avoids not only the salt water, but also the cold, clear, rock-bounded waters of the northern interior, resorting to the mud-flats of great rivers, the quiet, marshy borders of our lakes, sluggish streams, and ponds abounding in vegetable growths. In late fall and early spring it is said to be abundant in the flooded rice-field of the south. Except in the coldest weather, Audubon testi- fied to its great abundance about the mouths of the Missis- sippi in winter; while Wilson speaks of large, dense flocks in their migrations, on the muddy shoals bordering the Dela- ware. Swimming or flying, the birds keep so close to- gether in the flock that great numbers may be taken at a single shot. I have seen them scouring the shores of Lake Ontario in great flocks in September, so densely massed in flight as to appear almost like a cloud, and passing with the swiftness of the Wild Pigeon. At such times their flight is truly elegant, the lustrous light-blue of their wings glisten- ing like polished steel in the sunshine. In spring, one may occasionally catch their soft, lisping notes. Being sensitive to the cold for birds of their kind, like our delicate birds of song, they often pass portions of the winter even in the tropical regions. After the manner of the Ducks in gen- eral, the Teals are wedded in the latter part of winter while yet in the south. The nest of this species is on the ground on some prairie, or in some marsh, generally near the water, is made of dried grasses, sedges and weeds, and lined with down. The eggs, some eight or more, about 1.V5 X 1.31, are very smooth, and of a dull, creamy white. Being a vegetable feeder, the flesh of the Blue-winged Teal is tender and luscious, and is therefore a great desid- THE GREEN'WINGED TEAL. 211 eratum for the table. West of the Rocky Mountains it is replaced by its near relative, the Cinnamon Teal. THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. Tagging after the little flock of Blue-wings at a distance of a few yards, like some stray and unwelcome relative, was a solitary male of the Green-winged Teal, his flight being very similar, and his place of alighting only a few rods dis- tant an( liuch nearer the shore. Excepting certain aquatic insects and minute mollusks, the food of this species seems to be nearly terrestrial — consisting of the seeds of weeds and grasses, berries and small nuts. Hence it feeds in the very edge of the water, floating deeply, and plunging the head and neck, and not infrequently stepping out on the land, where it walks quite gracefully. In the air and on the water its movements are very similar to those of the Blue- wing; and, except that it is rather hardier and more north- erly, reaching us somewhat later in autumn and leaving us earlier in spring, its habitat and migrations are almost the same. It, too, for the most part, avoids the sea and the clear, rocky lake regions, preferring such flooded fields, sedgy streams, ponds and lakes as bring it in contact with its favorite vegetable growths, especially such bodies of water as abound in the wild rice. Second only to the Wood Duck in beauty is the male of this elegant species. Some fifteen inches long, and twenty- four in extent, the head and upper part of the neck are bright chestnut-brown, the throat dusky, and a patch from before the eye to the nape, glossy green; the pendent crest being brown above and black below; back, tail and greater part of the wings, dusky; the speculum, elegant glossy green, bounded with jet-black above and below; several of the scapulars edged with black; epaulets white; the rest 212 WILSON'S SNIPE. of the upper parts most elegantly white and black penciled; breast vinous ruddy, finely spotted with black; under parts buffy white, with patches of clear white and coal black about the tail. The female has the entire head and neck dingy white, speckled with black, the breast grayish-brown, spotted with darker; the back deep brown, crossed with broad, wavy lines of brownish-white. Having thoroughly observed this solitary Green-winged Teal, I rise to my feet, when he takes alarm, rising from the water at a single bound, and coursing through the air amidst the tall tree-tops with most surprising rapidity, is almost instantly followed by the Blue-wings. The nidification of this species is precisely like that of the latter, except that the eggs are a trifle larger, about 1.90 X 1-32. The nest may be found from the northern borders of the United States northward. Wilson's snipe. It was the evening of the 22d of April (1880). All the afternoon I had heard firing of guns in the wild meadows of Tonawanda Swamp. As twilight approached and the firing ceased, the air became resonant with the vernal chant of Wilson's Snipe {Gallinago wilsoni). In every direction the birds might be seen, describing their ascending and somewhat spiral curves with that nervous beat jf the wings, so peculiar to themselves, while others, too high to be dis- cerned in the dusky air, added not a little to the general vocal effect. This song of the Snipe, characteristic of the breeding season, or even of the entire spring, and heard for the most part in the early morning, or in the evening from twilight till after dark, is at once striking and strongly differentiated Beginning in subdued tones, somewhat like the sounds produced by the oblique strokes of a Pigeon's < J 1 f tVILSON'S SNIPE. ai3 wings in alighting, the simple notes are uttered rapidly, and through an ascending scale of nearly an octave in the shortest chromatic steps, the mellow tones being rather loudest in the middle of the strain and gradually softening to the closing and highest note, the whole performance being after the manner of a swell in music. The notes might be readily represented by the repetition of the sylla- ble, koo-koo-kuo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo- koo; and though not decidedly musical, they have in them the tenderness and inspiration of spring, readily associating themselves with April showers, balmy atmospheres, spring- ing grass, and that northern harbinger of spring-flora — the blooming amelanchier. Here and there, on the evening referred to, one might see the Snipes alighting — dropping slowly and gracefully down on a falling curve, their wings extending upward at an angle of some ninety degrees. Generally they disappeared among the bleached grass and sedges of the previous yeai* standing in several inches of water; but occasionally they perched on old stubs, making an odd figure among the gay Red-wings just greeting the newly-arrived females with the merriest and sweetest of Blackbird songs.' How vividly I recall the odd antics of the Snipes in the wild meadow on the old paternal farm in Nova Scotia. How grati- fying to childhood curiosity was it to hide away in the alder bushes and watch him as he took his morning or evening repast. See him walk — almost run — with nimble, easy steps; his long bill — schnepfe — which, in the old Saxon language, gave the bird its name, pointing obliquely forward and downward, and his short tail somewhat thrown up. Now he probes the soft mud, pushing his limber bill down half its length or more, and testing almost every square inch for quite a distance around, the delicate external membrane L 214 WILSON'S SNIPE. of that Strongly specialized instrument, well supplied with the most sensitive nerves, readily detecting the presence of earth-worms, or such tender roots of plants as are agreeable to the bird's taste. How queer he looks now, standing in that half-crouched position, as if intently listening; or, how pleasing as he stands at ease, one foot raised, and his back- ward eyes peering weirdly. Or note him as he approaches the coy female half-hidden in the faded grass so near her own color. Bending forward with neck shortened and curved till his breast and the tip of his bill nearly touch the ground, the tips of his loosened and droop- ing wings dragging at his sides, and his elevated tail spread out like a quaint little fan, he struts before her as gay as a Turkey-cock in miniature. Should anything alarm him, he will scamper away quite a distance into the thick grasses and sedges; or, if he be hard pressed, he may take wing, and, rising a few feet into the air and emitting his charac- teristic ^'^Hmv-Ike" fly in a nervous zigzag manner for a few rods, and quickly drop out of sight. This short and rapid flight is the supreme moment for a shot. And if anything will send one's blood tingling to the tips of fingers and toes, it is to drop this noted creature of the bog and fen just as he gets fairly under way. Many a time in boyhood, as I searched for the cows in the wild meadow close by the stream meandering through the alders, did the Snipe leave her nest just under my feet. Merely glancing at the warm, grayish-brown eggs heavily blotched with umber — the four pear-shaped objects lying with the small ends together in a mere depression of the ground on a few leaves or dried grasses — I would start after the artful bird in her moods of distress. Surely thinking her sick or wounded and ready to die, as she tumbled and fluttered about on the ground only a few feet from me, 1^ : WILSON'S SNIPE. 215 wheezing and moaiiing in the most distressed manner, I would scramble and strive to my utmost to capture her; but after decoying me a few rods from the nest she would soon recover and skulk away into the bushes, leaving me to my own cogitations, as I stood some half-way between her missing self and the nest now wholly lost sight of. It would seem that only the female attends to the duties of incubation, the male being cognizable in the vicinity at all times of day, and sometimes giving his aerial serenade as late as eleven o'clock at night. The eggs are about 1.60 X 1.12, the yellowish or grayish-olive color varying consider- ably in different clutches; the darjjc. umber and obscure spots and blotches extending more or less all over the shell, but thickening and enlarging at the large end. The young, of a grayish-yellow, heavily streaked with several shades of brown, according to the precocious habits of the infant Waders, leave the nest as soon as they are out of the shell, feeding on the insects found in mud, moss and meadow- grass, until their tender bills are firm enough to probe the soft ooze. As is the case with the European Snipe, which ours so closely resembles, Wilson's Snipe is one of the most fasci- nating of game-birds to the sportsman. Mark this happy specimen of the human race, as with hip-boots, trusty gun, full accoutrements, and faithful pointer, he creeps stealthily through the tall sedges! The dog alone has that high sensibility of the olfactory nerves which can take the subtle scent of this noted game-bird, but his master is all eye and ear to see in what direction the bird will lie to the dog; and so when the bird is put up he is ready to take it in its quick, short, and rather irregular flight, with that ready skill which consummates the pleasure of a genuine sportsman. And if he bring home his game-bag well filled with U- 216 THE LARGE YELLOWSHANKS. Snipe, he considers the hardest day's tramp well re- warded. The Snipe is 11 inches long, bill 2j4 or more, grooved on the sides, enlarged at the end, and though smooth in life, becomes marked like a thimble when dried. The crown is deep brown, with median line of brownish- white; sides of the head light reddish-brown, with a dark brown streak from the nostril to the eye, and a whitish spot above, and one in front of the eye; upper parts deep brown, specked, spotted and streaked with reddish-brown and white; wings dusky brown; fore-neck and breast brown and buffy- white, spotted and waved; tail chestnut-red, marked with black and white; under parts white; sides barred with black. The female is a little lighter colored than the male. THE LARGE YELLOWSHANKS. Firing into a flock of Rusty Grakles, gleaning food from the ground bordering a flooded field in the vicinity of Ton- awanda Swamp, on the 30th of April (1880), I roused a flock of some fifty of the large Yellowshanks {Totanus melanoleu- cus). They rose in the most excited manner only a few rods from me, emitting their loud whistling notes, cree-oo, cree-oOy cree-oo, the volume of which, coming from the whole flock, might well alarm all the feathered tribes in the neighborhood, thus making good their reputation among gunners as Telltales, or Tattlers. With the long bill and neck stretched forward, the long legs extended backward, and the long-pointed wings forming gull-like arcs in their rapid, steady beating, this flock, circling swiftly over the field several times and then fading out in the distance, makes one think of the sea and its multitudes of water-fowl. Knowing that these birds will soon be back, I hide behind the fence, ready to give them a salutation. In about half THE LARGE YELLOWSHANKS. 217 an hour they reappear like black specks against the gray clouds. In a few seconds I can define them clearly above the tall forest, and can hear the clangor of their peculiar voices; after circling several times over the inundated field they alight about three gun-shots off, each pair of wings pointing straight upward for a few moments, as if to be sure that every feather is in place before folding. For a few moments they glance around to assure themselves that all is safe. Then wading about in a hurried manner, half- way to their bodies in water, with much balancing and vibrating of the body and graceful darting of the head in various directions, they seek their food of aquatic insects, worms, minute mollusks and tiny fishes. Creeping along stealthily behind the fence till I arrive within shot-range, I wing several with one charge. The flock, rising and scatter- ing for a few moments, as if disconcerted, come together and hover over their wounded comrades as thickly as wings can vibrate among each other, calling to them most pit- eously. Strange to say, I pointed my gun at the hovering cloud, and who can tell what might have been the conse- quences had it not failed to go off. This hovering over wounded companions, common to various kinds of water- birds which go in flocks, is a most affecting manifestation of fellow-sympathy; but it is very fatal to them, giving the rarest opportunity to the second barrel of the sportsman. The wounded Yellowshanks push their slender shins through the water with surprising rapidity, make a fair attempt at swimming, and put their heads under the water when closely pursued, but do not understand the art of diving. I learned from the people in the neighborhood that these birds had occupied this feeding ground continuously for several weeks, and that they did not remain long after this. Winteiing in the Southern States and in the West 1 1 \- i t; Hk i- ^m % m m 218 THE LARGE YELLOW SHANKS. Indies, and breeding from Nova Scotia northward, it is merely a passenger through these middle districts, scarcely seen after the first of May, but returning already in August or even in July. Stray birds sometimes lingei- so late in Massachusetts as to receive the name. Winter Yellow-legs; and I have known them to be shot on the south shore of Lake Ontario as late as November 19th, when the Old Squaw Ducks had already arrived; they are not uncommon on the sea-coast, but being rather fresh-water birds, are more abundant in the interior. When in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, a few weeks since, I saw in the collection of Mr. Doan, a taxidermist of that place, the young of this species in the down, along with the parent, bot.h having been shot and mounted by that gen- tleman. He procured them at Chebogue Point, near the city. They probably breed more or less in the marshes about Chebogue and Tusket River, in the southwest end of the Province. Strange to say, the nest of this species has recently been reported from New Jersey. Audubon says: "When in Labrador I found these birds breeding, two or three pairs together, in the delightful quiet valleys bounded by rugged hills of considerable height, and watered by limpid brooks. These valleys exhibit, in June and July, the richest verdure; luxuriant grasses of various species growing here and there in sep- arate beds, many yards in extent, while the intervening spaces, which are comparatively bare, are of that boggy nature so congenial to the habits of these species. In one of these pleasing retreats my son found a pair of Telltales in the month of June, both of which were procured. The female was found to contain a full-formed egg, and some more of the size of peas. The eggs are four, pyriform, 2.25 long and 1.60 in their greatest breadth, pale greenish-yellow, marked with blotches of umber and pale purplish-gray," THE SMALL YELLOW SHANKS. 21» The Large Yellowshanks are said to breed very commonly on Anticosti. About 14 inches long and 26 in extent of wings, bill 2.25 and of dark horn-color; color above, ashy-brown or dusky,, each feather being edged with white and sub-margined with waves or spots of black; secondaries and tertiaries edged with alternate spots of white and black; head and neck streaked with dusky and white; spot in front of the eye, throat and under parts, white; upper and lower tail- coverts white, crossed with wavy lines of dusky; the bright yellow legs and feet, together with its size, well character- izing the species. THE SMALL YELLOWSHANKS. Scarcely more than a miniature of the above is the Small Yellow-shanks {Totanus flavipes). Being less than 11 inches long and about 20 in extent, it is very perceptibly smaller; but, except that it is a little darker, it is about the same in form, color and marking, so that the description of the former species answers sufficiently for this, and it has about the same diet, habitat, and habits in general. Audubon reported it as breeding commonly about Pictou, Nova Scotia; his friend. Professor MacCulloch, describes the nest " as placed among the grass on the edges of the rivers and large ponds of the interior." According to Dr. Coues, " the eggs are deposited on the ground, in a little depres- sion, lined with a few dried leaves or grasses. They are three or four in number, narrowly and pointedly pyriform, measuring from 1.58x1.18-1.78x116. ♦ * * The ground is a clear clay-color, sometimes tending more to buffy or creamy, sometimes rather to light brown. The marking is bold and heavy, but presents the customary great diversity, some eggs being very heavily splashed with I 220 THE SMALL YELLOWSHANKS. blofches, confluent about the larger end, while others have smaller clean-edged spots all over the surface. The mark- ings are rich umber-brown, often tending to chocolate, sometimes almost blackish. The paler shell-markings are usually numerous and noticeable." On the following morning, I saw a flock of these Lesser Yellowshanks scouring the same flooded fields above re- ferred to. After describing several of their elegant circles, each keeping his place in the finely-ordered ranks, they lighted in the shallow water near a thicket. I crept around into the thicket, and crawling almost on hands and knees behind a brush-fence, when I supposed myself near enough for a good shot, and was peering cautiously around in order to take aim from behind my screen, before I could get my eye on one of the number I heard the ominous whistle — the signal of danger — and away the little creatures were careering beyond shot-range. I rose and watched the flock till they were out of sight, studying that whistle which had been given by the sentinel so well on the alert, and which they all seemed so to comprehend in an instant. To this moment I can feel in my eye-balls the quick and simultane- ous beat of their wings. Once, at Barnegat Inlet (N. J.), late in August, as I stood on the piazza of the club-house with some half-dozen others, a flock of these birds appeared. Some one whistled in imitation of. their note, and at once they turned and flew directly towards us. By the time they came within shot- range, some one had brought out a gun, and giving them two charges, dropped quite a number of them. They are gentle, winsome little creatures, and well deserve to be held in favor by all lovers of nature. They are not so common here as the larger species. THE RUSTY GRAKLE. 221* THE RUSTY GRAKLE. On the first day of May, 1880, as I stood on an iron bridge crossing a sluggish stream of Tonawanda Swamp, I saw the Rusty Grakies {Scolecophagus ferrugineus) constantly trooping by in immense numbers. They were moving in a very leisurely manner, immense detachments constantly alighting. The large tract of low land, covered with the alder, the willow and the osier, seemed alive with them. The sombre wave, thus constantly rolling on, must have carried hundreds of thousands over this highway in a day. Occasionally they would alight to feed in the low, wet fields in the vicinity, making the eartii black with their numbers. Their notes, or what might be called their songs, were almost deafening — resembling, indeed, the vocal perform- ances of the Red-wings, but far less musical, being more of a sharp, metallic clatter, interspersed with loud squealing, and almost destitute of the liquid, warbling notes so pecul- iar to that species. On being alarmed, either in the fields or in the bushes, these Grakies would rise in a dense, black cloud, and with a rumbling sound like that of distant thunder. Their flight, which ordinarily is not very high, is straightforward, with a steady beat of the wings, after the manner of our Blackbirds in general. To one who has merely met these birds in their rusty coats, as they visit the fields in moderate flocks on their way south in October or perhaps as early as the last of September, or as late as the first of November, they would scarcely be recognizable on these gala-days of their northward migration, so almost completely have they doffed the rust-color; the male being of an elegant glossy black, with the merest touch here and there of the rusty fringe; and even the female being of a fine brown or slaty-black, and having but a moderate garniture of this distinguishable edging on her nuptial plumage. The fi fill rJ M8 THE RUSTY GRAKLE. Rusty Grakle generally goes northward through this region early in April, or even in March. Perhaps these have been detained, or have loitered by the way, and are now advanc- ing with a somewhat forced march along their swampy thoroughfare. Spending the winter in the Southern and even in the Middle States — in a few cases as far north as the lower Connecticut Valley — the Rusty Grakle breeds from north- ern New England, northward through Labrador, westward to Alaska, and even as far north as 69°; Kansas, Nebraska and Dakota being its western limit. Like the Red-wing, it is an inhabitant of the swamp, and of low, wet regions, its food being insects, berries and small moUusks. The nests, which are very common in Nova Scotia, where this bird is called the Black Robin, are generally found in spruce bushes or larch groves, about wild meadows or in v/et places; so that the memory of my childhood days associates the vigorous chuck and the metallic vibrations of the song of this species with these elegant Coniferce. Mr. E. A. Samuels found the nests "on the Magalloway River, in Maine," placed in "the low alders overhanging the water." Audubon sometimes found them '* among rhe tall reeds of the Cat-tails, or Typha^ to which they wire attached by interweaving the leaves of the plant with the grasses and strips of bark of which they were externally composed." The nest is bulky, firm and deep, composed outwardly of small sticks, mosses and dried grasses, acrongly cemented together with mud, and well lined with fine, dried grasses. The eggfs, deposited early in May, in Nova Scotia, where I used to regard five as the usual number, though four are occasionally found, are about 1.03 x ."^V, of a pale, grayish- green, somewhat heavily marked with several shades of brown and a dull lilac, and scratched with black. As in the THE YELLOW WARBLER, 223 case of the Red-wings, the marking varies very considerably in different sets. I have seen the young abroad in Nova Scotia by the 7th of June. The Rusty Grakle is a little more than 0.00 long, and some 14.50 in extent. Male, in spring, glossy black, some of the feathers, especially underneath, edged with a rusty-brown; female, slaty or rusty-brown above, rusty and grayish mixed below, with a pale stripe above the eye. The young birds are quite brown in their first dress, and in all stages the species is characterized by the milk-white iris, noticeable at quite a distance. In the Rocky Moun- tain and California regions this species is replaced by Brewer's Blackbird, or the Blue-headed Grakle {Scolecophagus cyanocephalus)y a bird of very similar habits. The two species generally mingle in their southern migration along the in- terior. THE YELLOW WARBLER. In the last week of April or the first week of May, as the warm currents of a spring atmosphere are wooing into activity every germ of field and forest, the Yellow Warbler {Dendroeca astivd) reaches us in immense numbers. You may find it in the forest, in thickets and slashings, quite as numerous in the orchard, and in the shrubbery about the garden and the front-yard, but most especially does it love the w^illows by the brook, with the yellow spray of which its golden tints are particularly in harmony. In dress and in song it is equally conspicuous. About the size of the Chipping Sparrow, sonie 5 inches long, greenish-yellow above, and golden-yellow streaked with red beneath, it is unmistakable to the eye as it moves among the opening leaves and blossoms. In this locality, we have no other really yellow bird except the male Gold- finch, and he is readily distinguished by his black crown, 224 THE YELLOW WARBLER. wings and tail, and by his unique voice and manners in general. The song of the Yellow, Blue-eyed Yellow, Golden, or Summer Warbler — for it is known by all these common names — may be represented by the syllables, wee- chee-wee-chee-wee-chee', or, sweety sweet, sweet, sweetie, uttered in sprightly, whistling tones. It is awakening and cheerful, and therefore in delightful harmony with its time. No mere promise of spring, like ihe Phcebe, the Robin, or the Bluebird, the appearance of the Golden Warbler is synchronous with spring itself, and inseparably associated with the most genial sunshine and the fragrance of flowers. The very thought of his melody brings back the fruit blossoms and the merry play of garden-mak- ing. Unlike all the rest of the Warblers, that seem to go and come wholly at the bidding of the sylvan deities, this Blue- eyed Beauty seeks the society of man as well, and may confide his nest to the shrubbery about the walls of human dwellings; aye, he will even be pleased to accept the help of human hands in building that nest — constructing it with the materials placed on the clothes-line or on the grass for him. A nest before me, the building of which was thus aided by young friends, is wholly of batting, except a little lining of vegetable down, dried gra^ s and horse-heir, and so looks like a snow-ball or a bunch of wool. This Warbler's nest may be found in the woods, the swamp, the orchard, the garden or the front-yard, and is generally placed in the upright fork of a bush, often stuck into the spray anywhere, rarely on a hori- zontal limb. Firmly built of various gray fibrous and downy materials, it is interlaced and bound together with dried grasses or fine rootlets, sometimes ornamented like bead- work with the fallen catkins of the butternut or black walnut, and is lined with the down of the thistle, the willow, or the reddish wool-like covering of the unrolling fronds of I THE CATBIRD, 225 various ferns. Thus the nest is grayish outside and silken- white, or delicate reddish, inside. The walls are thick and firni, and the lining is as soft and delicate a couch as any birdling ever pillowed its head upon. The eggs, some four in number, about .87 X. 50, are generally grayish or greenish- white, pretty heavily spotted, sometimes blotch/sd with brown and lilac, and are very variable. Though the nest is generally built by the last of May, there is but one brood raiiied in this locality, and the birds leave us for the south in September. As an exception to the whole genus, D. astiva has no white markings in the tail, except that the quills of the outer tail- feathers are white. The young being for some time with- out the red markings beneath, Audubon at first made them a separate species, which he called "the Children's Warbler." This bird shows special ingenuity in building out the Cow-bird's egg, sometimes making even a three-story nest for that purpose; although it is not, as was supposed by the earlier ornithologists, the only bird resorting to this expe- dient, the Redstart, Pho?be, etc., discovering the same contrivance. Covering all North America to the arctics, and even reaching South America ;n winter, his abundant species is especially characteristic of ou: con... *-nt. THE CATBIRD. On the last day of April, as I paddle my canoe along the still waters of Tonawanda, I spy a Catbird {Mimus caroli- nensis) in the bushes near the stream. Only 9 inches long^ of a plain dark drab or ash, excepting the black crown and the bright chestnut of the under tail-coverts, and keeping low among the thick shrubbery, this bird is now by no means con- spicuous.* As itapproachesnidification, about the last of May, * I once uw in the possession of Professor W. E. D, Scott, of Princeton, a Catbird which was as white as a white rabbit. 15 226 THE CATBIRD. however, it becomes rery sprightly and noisy. With tail well spread and crown-feathers erect, it hops and flits about the thickets, the edges of the woods, the swamps and the thick shrubbery of the garden, the most wide-awake bird in all these haunts. Upon the slightest alarm, it will mew like a scared kitten, imitating this feline mammal so perfectly that no one would attribute the sound to the throat of a bird. Again, it startles one with its song, which is very spirited indeed, and in the sweetest tones, but so hurriedly uttered that it would seem impossible to catch its full meaning. Unquestionably this song may contain pretty distinct imitations of the voices of other birds, but I fail to detect that general and well-pronounced capacity of a Mockingbird so often attributed to it. Why need he repeat the melodies of his neighbors, his own song, like that of the Brown Thrush, which it greatly resembles, is sweet enough of itself. It differs most materially, however, from the song of the Thrushes proper — birds to which our singer, the Brown Thrush, and the distinguished Mockingbird, are so closely related as to be regarded by ornithologists as a branch of the same family. When the Wood Thrush sings he seems to breathe out his very soul in a thoughtful melody. There is a musical idea in every note. He is the Mozart or Beethoven of his cl'ass. He sings because he cannot help it. He sings to the forest, to the stream, and to the evening star. The Catbird sings on purpose. There is no sentiment whatever in his performance. It is wholly a play upon tones, a trick of the vocal organs; and, as has been justly said, always implies a listener, always betrays self-consciousness. The notes of the Wood Thrush inspires solemnity, and may bring one into a mood for religious devotion; tiioce of the Catbird awaken risibility, au. i.ature's melodies. In Eastern North America, the birds migrate in greater numbers and over a greater reach of country than in any other part of the world; therefore, I am especially led to inquire how this wonderful thing is accomplished. What strange and mighty impulse is this which, inspiring the breasts of such countless multitudes at the same moment, carries them on through bitter storms and numberless perils ill Si Wi 236 MIGRA TION. to such immense distances ? Even those species of migratory birds which have been confined for many months, and seem perfectly tame, dash violently against the sides of their cage, and the tamed Canada Goose becomes wild again at the call of his species in their northward flight, and abandon- ing all his new relationships, rises to join fliem. Mr. A. R. Wallace, in his great work on the Geographical Distribution of Animals, states what he conceives to be the natural causes for this wonderful phenomenon. He suggests " that the instinct of migration has arisen from the habit of wandering in search of food common to all animals, but is greatly exaggerated in the case of birds by their power of flight and by the necessity for procur- ing a large amount of soft insect-food for their unfledged young." This might explain certain more or less irregular movements of birds, which are termed partial migrations, but is by no means sufficient to account for all the wonder- ful facts of regular migration. As a matter of fact, insect- life becomes much more abundant as we approach the warmer regions of the globe, the larvae of most kinds of insects appearing at different times throughout the season; hence we are not surprised to find large numbers of birds, of about every order, breeding and residing permanently in the more southern parts of our continent. Moreover, not a few species breed almost indifferently in any part of East- ern North America, to quite high latitudes, nesting at an earlier or later period of the entire breeding season, in accordance with their more northern or more southern location. Since nature yields so readily to ordinary causes, might not the birds generally find it more convenient to adjust the time of their nidification to that period of the year when insect larvae abound in the more southern lati- tudes, than to travel such immense distances, encountering MICRA TION. 237 wind and storm, and perils innumerable? The perils which birds encounter in their migrations are inconceivable to those unacquainted with the facts. Overcome by adverse winds and storms of great severity, immense numbers become exhausted and perish, as is shown by the numbers of the small land-birds drifting on to the shores of the Great Lakes after very severe storms. Attracted and dazed by the light-houses stationed here and there, so many dash their lives out against them as to render these points of incalculable interest to the observer. The continuous net- work of telegraph wires spread over the country maims and destroys countless numbers. After heavy storms» during their migrations, hundreds of Ducks have been picked up dead on a single morning on Niagara River, below the Falls, they having flown into the great cataract and perished. Again, the same author says: "If we go back only as far as the height of the glacial epoch, there is reason to believe that all North America, as far south as about 40** north latitude, was covered with an almost continuous and perennial ice-sheet. At this time the migratory birds would extend up to this barrier (which would probably terminate in the midst of luxuriant vegetation, just as the glaciers of Switzerland now often terminate amid forests and corn- fields), and as the cold decreased and the ice retired almost imperceptibly year by year, would follow it up farther and farther, according as the peculiarities of vegetation and insect-food were more or less suited to their several consti- tutions." The only possible interpretation of this passage would seem to be that the birds, being held in the south by the glacial epoch, followed up the recession of the cold at the closing of that period, and ever since have kept up the same movement in annual accommodation to cold and ice» 1 i hi m m 238 MICH A TICN. simply to find suitable food. The question naturally arises, since all varieties of bird-food abound in the south, why should a berry, a grain, a seed, or a caterpillar, be so much more palatable in the north ? . Nor are our regular migrants generally driven back from the north by hunger and cold. Nearly all our migratory birds leave for the south either during the fine and fruitful days of late summer, or in the most br'lliant and balmy days of autumn, when they are well covered with an extra coat of fat, and give forth a pleasing repetitioti of the gladsome lays of spring; and in most cases they evidently go much further than is neces- sary to find food and mild weather. In the gala-days of spring when most birds make their passage, tlie weather and resources of food are such that the whole journey is one continuous festivity. Mr. Wallace admits that " the most striking fact in favor of the 'instinct' of migration is the 'agitation,' or excite- ment, of confined birds at the time when their wild com- panions are migrating.' but thinks this "a social excitement due to the anxious cries of the migrating birds." No doubt the tame bird may be affected by the cry of its fellow, but those not within the reach of such cry, nor even within sight of their passing relatives, seem equally excited in the time of regular migration, spending the whole night in use- less efforts to free themselves. Moreover, how came these birds in confinement, these life-long prisoners shut out from the society of their kind, to recognize each the call of its fellows, and to comprehend its meaning? Again, the same writer says: "We must remember, too, that migration, at the proper time, is in many cases absolutely essential to the existence of the species; and it is therefore not improbable that some strong, social emotion should have been gradu- ally developed in the race, by the circumstance that all MIGRA TION. 230 who for want of such emotion did not join their fellows inevitably perished." As to the first clause of this state- ment, we know that birds occasionally nest very far from their ordinary breeding habitat, and for aught we can see they might always do so; and as to the second clause, the query naturally arises, how came the sad fate of the few delinquents that " inevitably perished " on failing to migrate to become so generally known and so deeply affecting? It is marvelous what an amount of loose speculation may pass for science ! No; neither the wisdom of the birds, nor the force of circumstances, however stern, can account for the wonderful phenomena connected with the regular mi- gration of birds. It would seem that this, like so many other persistent habits in animated nature, must be caused by the laws of instinct, superintended by an Infinite Intelli- gence. Nor should we be stumbled because we, in the close limitations of our finiteness, cannot conceive how the Infinite and Omnipresent can touch these innumerable springs of activity in animated nature. With proper evidence, there should be room for faith. One very naturally sympathizes with Audubon in his reflections on the bleak coasts of Labrador. "That the Creator should have ordered that millions of diminutive, tender creatures should cross spaces of country, in all appearance a thousand times more congenial for all their purposes, to reach this poor, desolate and deserted land, to people it, as it were, for a time, and to cause it to be enli- vened with the songs of the sweetest of the feathered musi- cians, for only two months, at most, and then, by the same extraordinary instinct, should cause them all to suddenly abandon the country, is as wonderful as it is beautiful and grand." :♦.> 240 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. O, these days of life and song ! they are but too short and fleeting! I go into my study, in the early morning, and sit by the open window which overlookw i.he village THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. nestling among the trees. What a delicious fragrance floats on the breeze ! What ran be more suggestive of Paradise than this delightful chorus of birds, and this budding and blooming of spring ? Ah! my old favorite, the Baltimore Oriole {Icterus balti- more)y has arrived during the night. I hear his loud, sweet whistle in the large elm just across the way. Now he has passed directly before the window, and lit in full view in the orchard. He is well worthy of the epithet " Golden " in his old familiar name, Golden Robin, only he is no Robin at £.11; and if Lord Baltimore, for whom he is named, could have equaled his brilliancy in the colors of hiscoat-of-arms, he was a gay fellow to lead a persecuted people into the wilderness. Most appropriate of all, I think, is this bird's Indian name, " Fire-bird." Appearing to the best advantage as he flies from you, does not that rump of bright orange, surrounded by the jet-black of his head, shoulders, wings and tail, glow like a burning coal? And, as he spreads his tail in lightings THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 241 are not those light-orange outer feathers of the same about to burst into a flame? The brightest orange, however, is on the breast, becoming lighter on the sides and under parts; and in the brightest specimens, even the white of the wing- coverts is tinged with the same. His female, who may arrive in a day or two, or may linger behind more than a week, has but a general resemblance, being much duller in color and marking. HerOy heroy hero: Cheery^ cheery, cheery: Cheer-up, cheer-up, cheer-up: are among his common notes, generally coming from among the swaying branches of the taller trees; but sometimes also from the bushes, and even from the fence. Occasionally, only, is he seen on the ground, and then he appears as much out of place as a gentleman in broadcloth and kid-gloves digging a ditch, or guiding a plow. On some minds the effect of the song of birds is very great. The most sprightly cheerfulness is particularly emphasized in the song of the Baltimore. How I have been cheered by it, in certain days dark with sorrow, I cannot easily forget. Hence his first note awakens a throng of tender reminis- cences, and his return is always an event of the season. And yet that song has but little compass or variety. Its effect is wholly in the tones. The notes are almost monoto- nous, unless, indeed, he has learned to imitate the note or song of some bird by the way, one which never reaches us, and so leaves the acquired song a mystery to us; a peculiar attainment of the Baltimore, in which his voice may become quite flexible. Unquestionably he has quite a faculty for imitation. Besides his song he has a spirited twitter, or rattle, when in combat, and when winning the female. He has also a single note, corresponding to the com- mon chipping of birds when alarmed about their nest or young. But all his noise will soon be over. Incubation 16 S.i| 1 343 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. once begun, he is one of the quietest of birds and remains so till after the moult, during which event he is rarely to be seen; then returning to the vicinity of the late nesting place in the orchard or grove, he will be almost as gay, and sprightly, and musical, in the midst of his full-grown family, now making ready to depart for sone more genial clime, as he was in the hilarious days of the nuptial season. A very "castle in the air" is the Baltimore's pensile nest, as it sways and rocks on an elastic branch of some tree, in the front-yard, the orchard, the grove or the forest. In this locality a partiality is shown for the graceful drooping branches of the elm. Wherever placed, it seldom fails to be under a canopy of leaves. Generally in the form of a bag £jme six or seven inches deep, round at the bottom, and hung to slender fork-shaped limbs by the edges, the limbs thus serving to hold it open, it is the most noticeable bird's nest in field or forest. The material is almost anything in the form of long strips or threads that can be easily woven — thin, gray, vegetable fibers, yarn, twine, interlaced in every possible manner, and well sewed together with horse-hair. The walls are so thin and open as to let the air through readily. The bottom is a thick cushion of vegetable down and hair. A gentleman in Pennsylvania once hung out bright and various colored zephyrs, which the bird wove into a most brilliant and fantastic fabric. Says Wilsoa: " So solicitous is the Baltimore to procure proper materials for his nest that, in the season of building, the women in the country are under necessity of narrowly watching their thread that may chance to be out bleaching, and the farmer to secure his young grafts; as the Baltimore, finding the iormer, and the strings which tie the latter, so well adapted for his purpose, frequently carries off both; or should the one be too heavy, and the other too firmly tied, he will tug THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 243 at them a considerable time before he gives up the attempt. Skeins of silk and hanks of thread have been often found, after the leaves were fallen, hanging around the Baltimore's nest; but so woven up and entangled as to be entirely irreclaimable. Before the introduction of Europeans, no such material could have been obtained here; but, with the sagacity of a good architect, he has improved this circum- stance to his advantage; and the strongest and best mate- rials are uniformly found in those parts by which the whole is supported." Great sagacity and skill are shown in adapting the form of the nest to circumstances. Audubon observes that the walls of the nest are thinner, or thicker, and that it is placed on the warmer, or cooler, side of the tree, according as che location is northern or southern. Two nests, lately found by Mr. Eugene Ringueberg, of Lockport, N. Y., are very suggestive as to the intelligence of the bird. One was hung on the string of a kite caught in an apple-tree. Closed at the top in the form of a cone, its opening, high on one side, was a sort of projecting porch of closely woven horse- hair, which, as the nest could turn in any direction, served as the tail of a weather-cock, and turning constantly to the leeward side, kept the entrance from the storm. The other, being built on two slender twigs, was too poorly supported for the weight of the bird. In this emergency, a strong piece of twine was woven into one side, carried up over two firm branches, and well fastened into the other side, thus making the nest fully secure. Here was no mean exercise of the reasoning faculty. Those who study the animal kingdom most will have the highest opinion of its intelligence. . The eggs, generally four or five in a set, some ".90 x .60 " of an inch, are white, slightly tinged with brown, and I 244 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. sparsely but irregularly scratched in every direction, as if with a pen, in both light and heavy strokes with black or dark brown; some of these marks being obscure, as if partially washed off. As generally with birds of its size, incubation Qccupies some two weeks. The young resemble the female, but Audubon thinks that the young males acquire their bright colors the first year. The Baltimore Oriole is a great devourer of insects; but like other birds of that kind of diet, he will occasionally affect a change. Once, after a spring shower, when the peach-trees were in bloom, a beautiful male lit in one just against a window. All unconscious of my presence, though I was scarcely more than two feet from him, he began mov- ing up and down the limbs in that gliding, athletic manner peculiar to himself, ever and anon inserting his bill into the cup-like calyx of the blossoms. Could he be drinking the new-fallen rain-drops ? Scarcely; for he did not raise his head to swallow. Looking a little more closely, I saw that he was eating the stamens. Let not the fruit-grower be alarmed, however, for nature has provided many more blossoms than is necessary for a good crop. It may be that the Baltimore is simply thinning them to advan- tage. With us, as in many other parts of our country, this is one of the most numerous and well-known of all the birds; while his brilliancy, his loud and happy notes, and his abundant appearance in shade trees, orchards, fields, forests, and even in the heart of our great cities at the same time, fully make known the morning of his arrival. Wintering in Mexico, Central America, Cuba, etc., he breeds nearly throughout the Eastern United States, and, becoming rare in Northern New England, barely extends. into the British Provinces. He belongs, therefore, to the Alleghanian Fauna. THE ORCHARD ORIOLE. 245 THE ORCHARD ORIOLE. Very similar in form and marking, but of a different color and smaller, is the Orchard Oriole (Icterus spurius). Some seven inches long, and having nearly the same parts black as the Baltimore, except that the tail is entirely black, the male has those parts corresponding to the orange in the latter — chestnut, or chestnut-red. The female is olivaceous above, with dusky wings, and greenish-yellow beneath. The young male is like her the first year, the second year he acquires a black throat, the third year is variously spotted, and afterwards acquires the dark colors of maturity. Resid- ing in Orleans County, N. Y., I am a little too far north for this bird, but in Northern Ohio, where I formerly studied him, he is very common, being found in every orchard. Arriving there about the middle of May, his song is a loud and delightful warble, bearing a striking resemblance to that of the Robin or Rose-breasted Grosbeak. The female is so shy as seldom to be seen. The nest, hung by the upper edge to a limb in the orchard, is nearly hemispherical, built of tough grasses thoroughly interwoven. Wilson says: " I had the curiosity to detach one of the fibers, or stalks of dried grass, from the nest, and found it to measure thirteen inches in length, and in that distance was thirty-four times hooked through and returned, winding round and round the nest." He says, also: "An old lady of my acquaint- ance, to whom I was one day showing this curious fabrica- tion, after admiring, its texture for some time asked me, in a tone between joke and earnest, whether I did not think it possible to teach these birds to darn stockings." This nest, being built of grasses so recently dried as still to retain their green color, about like that of new-mown hay, has a peculiarly fresh and clear appearance. The Orioles proper are altogether birds of the Old 1 I 246 THE WARBLING VIREO. World, and are allied to the Thrushes. " More than twenty- species are described in Africa, Asia, and the Indian archi- pelago." One species, the Golden Oriole, migrates inta Southern Europe, and occasionally reaches Great Britain and Sweden. They all build very ingenious nests. Our Orioles, of a wholly different type, and peculiar to the New World, especially to Central and South America, are closely related to the numerous Blackbirds of our country all of which are ranked among the Starlings. THE WARBLING VIREO. From a group of tall maples in a neighboring yard, there comes one of the most delightful warbles ever heard in this locality — that of the Warbling Vireo {Vireo gilvus). In a series of liquid notes, very fluent and greatly prolonged for the size of thr. bird, in a smoothly undulating melody, delivered while the bird flits and gleans among the foliage, and in tones so sweet that it would seem as if the air melted in them, the very soul of tenderness and affection is breathed out upon the ear. In one of our rural burying- grounds, not long since, while a casket with the remains of a little child was being lowerdd into the grave, there mingled with the sobs of heart-broken mourners the inimitably ten- der warble of this bird from a tree-top just above. Never did the melody of bird or man seem more appropriate. It was at once the voice of sympathy and hope in the very presence of death. This inimitable melody, like that of some celestial flute or flageolet, never out of time, and never failing to charm, may be heard in our middle districts from the first days of May till the last of September. Though common to orchards and shaded front-yards, even in villages and cities, the Warbling Vireo is much THE WARBLING VIREO. 247 oftener heard than seen. Nearly the size of a canary, 6.60 long and 9.00 in extent, olivaceous-green above and yel- lowish-white beneath, it so nearly resembles the leaves as it glides softly and gracefully through the tree-tops that one must look sharply to detect it. But it is so utterly absent-minded as it flits and peers among the branches, meanwhile abandoning itself to its song, that one "may come almost as near to it as one pleases. Though, like the rest of the Vireos, it takes its food and noves about like a Warbler, the bill, hooked and notched, broad at base and well bristled, reminded the older ornithologists of the Flycatchers, while its general structure now brings this family near the Shrikes — a group of birds of altogether different habits of voice, food and nidiiication. The family Vireonidce is entirely of the New World, and the genus VireOy to which this warbling species belongs, is almost exclusively . of North America, while the species itself pertains to the eastern parts. As in the case of the Vireos in general, male and female are alike. Like all the rest of its genus, it hangs by its edge a delicate pensile nest on the elastic twigs of some bush or tree; in the case of gilvuSy almost always high up in the tree; the eggs, some .80X-55, being of a most delicate or flesh-tinted white, barely specked with dark- brown or black, are among the most beautiful of birds' eggs. The nests and eggs of the Vireos can never be mistaken, so wholly different are they from the nests and eggs of all other birds. Never shall I forget the tender sense of the beautiful which stole over me in the days of childhood, as I first beheld a nest of this bird. A very fairy-like basket of jewels it seemed. A warbling Vireo's nest, now before me, is hung on very small twigs at their junction with a larger upright twig, and is slightly fastened around the latter. It is woven of I i 246 THE WARBLING VIREO. woody fibers, some dried grass and shreds of bark, inter- mixed with bits of wasp-nest, vegetable down, and the white, fine-spun substance of certain cocoons. It is lined with fine shreds of the grape-vine. Another nest, suspended in the ordinary way, is similarly made up, but very shallow, not more than Ij^ inch in depth outside. Though the summer habitat of Vireogilvus is given as far west as the High Ceiitral Plains, I do not think it extendi very far north of Lake Ontario. I did not meet with it on Georgian Bay nor in Nova Scotia. Mr. Chamberlain does not report it from New Brunswick, and Mr. Everett Smith regards it as rare in Eastern Maine. It is probably a bird of the Alleghanian Fauna. The Brotherly-love, or Philadelphia . Vireo, probably a closely-allied species to the Warbling, is also found occa- sionally in this locality. It is quite a little shorter than the latter, perhaps half an inch, and the colors are brighter — the olivaceous having more of green, and the white having more of yellow — the breast, foi instance, being in some cases quite yellow. When first studying birds, the eye being not yet trained to the exact observance of form and color, I noticed the difference at once on procuring the Philadelphia. Like other Vireos, its nest and eggs are probably in close conformity to the general type. It is not uncommon in New England, nor in New Brunswick, while it is said to be abundant every spring, and quite common on the Red River of the north. Mr. Wm. Brewster found this species common about Umbagog Lake in the breeding season. He says: " Con- trary to what might be expected from the apparently close relationship of the two birds, the song of this species does not in the least resemble that of Vireo gilvus. It is, on the other hand, so nearly identical with that of V. olivaceus that THE WARBLING VIREO. S49 the most critical ear will, in many cases, find great difficulty in distinguishing between the two. The notes ol philadelphicus are generally pitched a little higher in the scale, while many of the utterances ?re feebler, and the whole strain is a trifle more disconnected. But these differences are of a very subtle character, and, like most comparative ones, they are not to be depended upon unless the two species can be heard together. The Philadelphia Vireo has, however, one note which seems to be peculiarly its own, a very abrupt, double- syllabled utterance, with a rising inflection, which comes in with the general song at irregular but not infrequent inter- vals." Similarity of appearance to the Vireos generally, and close resemblance in vocal habit to the Red-eyed Vireo, have no doubt caused the species under review hitherto to elude notice. Now that the points of discrimination have been so well brought out by Mr. Brewster, it may, perhaps, be found generally and commonly distributed in Eastern North America. In the deep forests, or possibly in some thickly-shaded yard, already in the latter part of April, I may meet the Yellow-throated Vireo {Vireo flavifrons). Well nigh six inches long, yellc wish-green above, wings and tail deep dusky, the feathers edged with white or yellowish, wing- bars white; throat, breast and eye-lids bright yellow, the remaining under parts white, it is the brightest of its genus. It keeps well up in the tops of the trees, diligently glean- ing as it sings, vireo, vire-ee, wee-reey etc., in tones rather shrill for a Vireo, and not nearly so finely modulated and fluent as those of its relative, the Red-eye, but greatly resembling them. Breeding " from Maryland and Virginia northward " (Coues), its nest, some 5 to 16 feet from the ground, is not uncommon in this locality. i ty 200 THE RED.EYED VIREO. One now before me is similar to that of the Red-eye. The walls, however, are thicker, the nest deeper, and hence more bulky; also more fully ornamented on the entire outside with a white material — capsules of spiders' nests or cover- ings of some kind of chrysalid — and around the bottom with bits of rotten wood, very porous and almost white, prob- ably bass-wood; the whole having a whitish or yellowish- gray and highly artistic appearance. Another, found June 20th, is not any larger than the Red-eye's, but the outside is ornaniented with skeleton leaves, fine vegetable fibers, down, capsules of spiders' nests, etc. The eggs, some .76 or .80X-55 or .60, therefore rather longish and pointed, are pure white, with a few spots or mere specks of dark brown or black on the large end. THE RED-EYED VIREO. Certainly in a few days I shall meet in great abundance throughout the forest the Red-eyed Vireo {Vireo olivaceus). Fully six inches long, it appears larger than most of its genus, and while it has the general colors of the Vireos or Greenlets, olive-green above and white or whitish beneath, its ashy crown flanked with a narrow line of black, and its white line over the eye, differentiate it alike from the Warbling and from the Philadelphia Vireo. Keeping, for the most part, in the upper regions of the thick foliage, it almost constantly enlivens the woods with its soft flow warble; its tones, though "cheerful and happy as the mei whistle of a school-boy," being yet so much softer and sweeter than the Yellow-throats, as to be readily distin- guishable. Its melody, rendered in a spontaneous, absent- minded manner, seems simply a cheerful accompani- ment to business, something thrown in by the way. I know of no bird in our forest which sings so constantly THE RED.EYED VIJtEO, 251 from early morning through the burning heat of noon, and on into the sombre shadows of the coming night, aye throughout the season from May to September,, as this unpretending little summer resident. To quote Mr. Burroughs, "Rain or shine, before noon or after, in the deep forest or in the village grove — when it is too hot for the Thrushes or too cold and windy for the War- blers— it is never out of time or place for this little minstrel to indulge his cheerful strain." This song is in mellow,, whistling tones, varied with rising and falling inflections, and may be represented by the syllables, virio-virio-viriee- viria-vireey etc., suggesting the origin of the bird's name* Some one has made it especially articulate in the following lines: " Pretty green worm, where are you ? Dusky-winged moth, how fare you, When wind and rain are in the trees ? Cheeryo, cheerebly, chee, Shadow and sunshine are one to me. " Mjsquito and gnat, beware you. Saucy chipmunk, how dare you Climb to my nest in the maple-tree ? And dig up the corn At noon and at morn ? Cheereyo, cheerebly, rhee." Its small cup-shaped, pensile nest, hung to the twigs of a bush or tree, late in May or early in June, anywhere from several to twenty feet from the ground, located in any part of the forest, but seldom elsewhere, is, perhaps, not equal as a work of art to that of some other Vireos. It is com- posed, outside, of shreds of thin fibrous bark, of a light color, and ornamented with vegetable down, the silk of cocoons, bits of wasps' nests, etc.; inside, of a few fine rootlets^ If 252 THE RED-EYED VIREO. but mostly of something like fine shreds of bark from the wild grape-vine. The eggs, three or four, measuring some .82X.62, of a pure glossy-white, are generally barely specked on the larger end with dark brown, sometimes also sparingly blotched with dull red. All the Vireo's eggs are more or less pointed. Never shall I forget a beautiful evening on the IBth of May, when I was most highly entertained by a female Red- eye building her nest. It was after one of those genial spring days, when all the latent forces of nature are wooed into activity. Strolling through the woods near sunset, I sat upon a large stump, where a lately fallen tree had left quiie an opening, letting in the sunlight with a most grateful effect. Here I listened to a host of birds all around me. About fifteen feet up in a smallish beech, I noticed a silent Red-eye, looking very anxious and busy. Presently I saw a few feet from her the merest outline of a nest — a little gossamer bag hung to the twigs. In a moment she lit upon it and began to work. I could see the motion of the weaver, but not a thread of the material, it was so very fine. Reaching around the fabric, even underneath it, she would seem to catch some loose thread, and drawing it over the side and edge, fasten it inside. Workin^j thus a few moments, all around inside and outside of the nest, she would fly away, soon returning to repeat the same opera- tion. Though so near, I could scarcely discern a particle of the material she brought, and yet the nest grew rapidly. Wonderful little workman! Where did she learn her art? Wintering partly in Florida, but mostly in tropical America, and extending their summer range throughout the Eastern United States, the British Provinces, and the Northwest, the Red-eyed Vireos are among the most abundant and characteristic birds of Eastern North America. THE SOLITARY VIREO. 25» THE SOLITARY VIREO. I also find the Solitary Vireo ( Vireo solitarius) here as a rare migrant in May. Some 5.00 inches long; head ashy; back, greenish-olive; ring around the eye, stripe thence to the nostrils; wing-bars, outer edges of the dusky wing and tail-feathers and under parts, white; sides tinged with yel- low— this Vireo is readily distinguished from the rest, espe- cially by its larger head of p!umbeous-blue and the white markings about the eye. As this bird has been found breeding near Boston, it would seem that it might breed here; but I know of no one who has found its nest. Its nidification seems to be principally in Northern New Eng- land and northward. Nuttall, that masterly interpreter of bird-music, says: "Its song seems to be intermediate be- tween that of the Red-eyed and the Vellow-breasted species, having the preai^ preaiy etc., of the latter, and the fine variety of the former in its tones." Minot says "the music of the Solitary Vireo is delicious." Burroughs speaks of a note of the female as suggesting " the bleating of a tiny lambkin." Mr. J, E. Wagner, an amateur ornithologist of good abilities for observation, in Nova Scotia, says that the song of the male is sometimes very much like certain of the finer strains of the Catbird, and that he is a most constant and spirited singer. The nest, in material, structure and position, is very similar to that of other Vireos. The eggs average ".77 X .58 " of an inch, and are pure white, with a very few minute and genr rally reddish-brown spots, principally at the larger end." A most elegant nest, just sent me by Mr. Wagner from Nova Scotia, the head and wing of the female accom- panying it, is very similar to that of the Red-eye. It was hung phout eight feet from the ground, in the forked limb of a fir bush, is made of uanea, and fine shreds of the thinnest I ' Mis 254 THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. bark of the white birch, being lined with fine dried grasses. The four eggs, fresh the '7th of June, about .78 x -56 — as long and pointed as any Vireo's egg — are pure white, sparsely specked with reddish-brown, mostly at the large end — the specks looking as if they had been put on when the shell was soft, and so had run a little. Keeping to the forest, and exceedingly solitary and retiring in its habits, this bird ranges nearly throughout* North America, and winters in the more tropical regions. Mr. Wagner reports the species as breeding very common in New Canada, Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, the female adhering moi.t persistently to her nest, and defending it very bravely on leaving it. THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. The White-eyed Vireo ( Vireo noveboracensis), " noted for its sprightly manners and emphatic voice," is but seldom found here. Mr. Ringueberg, of Lockport, has found it breeding near that city. The nest, now before me, is almost precisely like that of the Red-eye; built externally with fibers of bark, interlaced with webby material, lined with something brown, which appears to me to be the finest shreds of the bark of the wild grape-vine. The nest has one pecul- iar mark, however. It is well ornamented with bits of newspaper, in addition to the dried leaves, bits of wasps' nests, and "paper-like capsules of the spiders' nests," so common to the nests of the Vireo; and thus the bird main- tains its right to the name of Politician, given it by Wilson. This nest was in a bush in a small thicket. The single egg it contained was very similar to the egg of the Red-eye, but smaller, and the fine specks on the pure white ground, black or nearly so. The bird is 6 inches long; olive-green above, the wings THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. 255 and tail being dusky, with feathers edged with greenish; throat light-ash; sides of the head, breast, and flanks bright yellow; thus having more yellow than any other Vireo except the Yellow- throat; wing-bars yellowish- white; vent white; iris white. On the whole, this is rather a southern bird, and barely reaches Western New York and Southern New England. Partial to thickets, especially about swamps, it is local in its distribution, and may be associated with the smilax or green-briar. The vocal habits of this bird are wholly different from those of the rest of the Vireos. Mr. Burroughs says: "The song of this bird is not particularly sweet and soft; on the contrary, it is a little hard and shrill, like that of the Indigo-bird or Oriole; but for brightness, volubility, execution, and power of imitation, he is unsur- passed by any of our northern birds. His ordinary note is forcible and emphatic, but, as stated, not especially musical; chick-a-rer-chicky he seems to say, hiding himself in the low, dense undergrowth, and eluding your most vigilant search, as if playing some part in a game. But in July or August, if you are on good terms with the sylvan deities, you may listen to a far more rare and artistic performance. Your first impression will be that that cluster of azaleas, or that clump of swamp-huckleberry, conceals three or four differ- ent songsters, each vying with the others to lead the chorus. Such a medley of notes, snatched from half the songsters of the field and forest, and uttered with the utmost clearness and rapidity, I am sure you cannot hear short of the haunts of the genuine Mockingbird. If not fully and accu- rately repeated, there are at least suggested the notes of the Robin, Wren, Catbird, High-hole, Goldfinch and Song- sparrow. The pip y pip of the last is produced so accurately that I verily believe it would deceive the bird herself; and the whole uttered in such rapid succession that it seems as 256 THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. if the movement that gives the concluding notes of one strain must form the first note of the next. The effect is very rich, and, to my ear, entirely unique. The performer is very careful not to reveal himself in the meantime; yet there is a conscious. air about the strain that impresses me with the idea that my presence is understood and my attention courted. A tone of pride and glee, and, occasion- ally, of bantering jocoseness, is discernible. I believe it is only rarely, and when he is sure of his audience, that he dis- plays his parts in this manner." " Next after the Warblers, the Greenlets (Vireos) are the most delightful of our forest birds, though their charms address the ear, and not the eye. Clad in simple tints that harmonize with the verdure, these gentle songsters warble their lays unseen, while the foliage itself seems stirred to music. In the quaint and curious ditty of the White-eye — in the earnest voluble strains of the Red-eye — in the tender secret that the Warbling Vireo confides in whispers to the passing breeze — he is insensible who does not hear the echo of thoughts he never clothes in words." (Coues). The strictness with which this group of birds is defined as a family, alike in size, structure, color, and habits, is cer- tainly matter for reflection. For instance, how comes each Vireo to build that neat, cup-shaped, pensile nest, so peculiar to the family, and so unlike that of any other bird? Why is a Vireo's egg so unique? or, why should it be fashioned almost as from the same mould, and colored as if by the same brush? Comes all ihis by chance? Is it simply a self-evolved fact? Is it not rather a bit of that great and exact system of nature, which implies the working out of a perfect plan, after the design of an Infinite Intelli- gence? M^. THE BROWN THRUSH. 257 THE BROWN THRUSH. As I Stroll along the edge of the woods during the fore- noon, I am greeted by a clear, voluble song, quite varied, and very musical, having an overflowing spontaneity, al- together peculiar. The singer is the Brown Thrush {Harp- orhynchus rufus). Bearing a decided resemblance in song to its near relative, the Catbird, it has nothing whatever of the marvelous mimicry of its other near relative, the Mocking- bird, all of them being related to the Thrushes proper. The spirited and very rapid warble of this so-called Thrush is exceedingly animating, and is susceptible of a great variety of interpretations. To Thoreau, while planting his beans, it seemed to say: "Drop it, drop it — cover it up, cover it up — pull it up, pull it up, pull it up;" Audubon compared it to "the careful lullaby of some blessed mother chantiftg lier babe to repose;" while Wilson was led to say, "we listen to its notes with a kind of devotional ecstasy, as a morning b-mn to the great and most adorable Creator of all." It has a novel and most pleasing sweetness to me, as this bird is but a rare resident in this part of the coun- try. A nest before me, found near Lockport, corresponds well with the description given by Wilson and other au- thors— quite flat, made outside of sticks and coarse stalks of herbs, then dry leaves, and inside, of rootlets, contains four or five bluish-tinted eggs, 1.05 X .78, well specked all over with reddish-brown and pale lilac. It is placed in a bush, sometimes in a tree or hedge, occasionally on the ground, never far from it, in a thicket or bushy pasture along or near the woods, such being the chosen places of its residence. In some parts of the west, where it keeps to the narrow strips of wood which skirt the streams of the prairies, and which are frequently quite deeply overflowed in summer, 17 • fS %\ 'I I 258 THE BROWN THRUSH. the nests are placed quite a distance from the ground, and always above the highest mark of the flood. When the nest of this species is approached, especially if the young are hatched, the parents become greatly excited, uttering a strong, metallic chip, which is alike noticeable and characteristic. Some 11,25 long and 13.30 in extent, the entire upper parts reddish-brown, the lower parts, except the throat, creamy-white, spotted and streaked with brown or black, thus showing a relation to the Thrushes — it is especially noticeable by means of its long tail, which it drops and partly spreads as, with head and somewhat long bill thrown forward, it perches and sings in full view. Audubon's fine picture of a scene he witnessed — a group of Brown Thrushes driving the black snake from a nest as he twines around its support, jostling out the eggs and squeezing the life out of the mother-bird — represents the neighborly spirit and noble courage of this species. It is easily domesti- cated and capable of remarkable friendship for man. One kept by Dr. Bachman used to follow him about the yard and garden. "The instant it saw me take a spade or a hoe," he says," it would follow at my heels, and as I turned up the earth would pick up every insect or worm thus exposed to view. I kept it for three years, and its affection for me cost it its life. It usually slept on the back of my chair, in my study, and one night the door being accidentally left open, it was killed by a cat. I once knew a few of these birds to remain the whole of a mild winter in the State of New York in a wild state." Mr. Bartram, the distinguished naturalist of Philadel- phia, and the friend of Wilson, furnished the latter with the following note, concerning the sagacity of a Brown Thrush which he had domesticated. " Being very fond of THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 259 wasps, after catching them, and knocking them about to break their wings, he would lay them down, then examine if they had a sting, and, with his bill, squeeze the abdomen to clear it of the reservoir of poison before he would swal- low his prey. When in his cage, being very fond of dry crusts of bread, if, upon trial, the corners of the crumbs were too hard and sharp for his throat, he would throw them up, carry and put them in his water-dish to soften, and then take them out and swallow them." The Brown Thrush is a bird of the Eastern United States, wintering south, extending northward in summer into the British Provinces, being very common about Great Manitoulin Island, and breeding throughout its range. THE SCARLET TANAGER. I continue my early morning ramble along the edge of a beautiful forest. The whole atmosphere seems to vibrate to the song of birds. Some of them I hear for the first time in the season. The song in yonder elm. for instance, bearing quite a resemblance to that of the Robin, only softer and less copious and fluent, is fresh and new this morning; it is the song of the Scarlet Tanager {Pyranga rubra), and compares well with any song in the woods, short of that of the Thrushes. And yet neither Wilson nor Audubon mentions anything more of song for this bird than the chip, chur-r-r-r, which is its common note. There, I get a full view of him now, amidst the dark green of that hemlock. Always slow and dignified in his motions, what a brilliant beauty he is! Nearly the size of a Baltimore or a Bobolink, 6.75 long and 11.73 in extent, he is a pure, bright scarlet, with jet-black wings and tail. Moving with a steady flight, he has lit on the side of a moss-covered log, by a small pool, smooth as a '-lilt \ ^. 260 THE SCARLET TAN ACER. mirror. The scene is double, for the bird in the water is as brilliant as that among the moss; and the water mirrors not only the bird and the moss-covered log, but the sky. I sympathize with this little creature's peaceful pleasures as he dips his bill and drinks, then straightens himself up^ fills his throat and warbles, and drinks and warbles again. Did Eden itself afford anything prettier than this of its kind? Even the Creator must experience delight in such quiet joys of His creatures. For the first week after his arrival the Tanager seems anxiously waiting for his rather plain colored mate — of dull green above, yellowish beneath, and dusky wings and tail. I once found her, however, delicately tinged with red, a genuine beauty. During this time of waiting, he will keep up his chip, chur-r-r, sometimes in a most animated manner. Only occasionally will he indulge in his fine war- ble. Meanwhile he keeps almost entirely to the woods. Rarely he may be seen on the fence, or he may stray to the orchard, or, if you are plowing near the woods, a half-dozen of these scarlet beauties may visit your furrow, and glean insects, according to their common habit of diet. When the female arrives, shy and retiring, according to the manner of female birds at such times, she at once receives the most winning attentions. Now the song is more frequent, the utterance of the common note may be quite excited, and there is a display of graceful motions and brilliant colors. See him stand before her with droop- ing wings and spreading tail! How finely he hovers in her presence, looking like burning scarlet amidst the black cloud of his vibrating wings. Now she is joined to her consort, and for the rest of the season the two are inseparable. Soon they retire, for the most part, pretty well into the forest, generally choosing as the site for their nest the THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 261 horizontal bough of some pretty good sized tree, anywhere from ten to thirty feet from the ground; oftener near the latter height, though I have pulled down the limb and looked into the nest. A frail fabric, indeed, is this nest. Begun with small twigs, stalks of weeds, strips of bark, with a very little wool or down, perhaps, and lined with fine rootlets or very fine dried spray of some evergreen (in this locality generally the hemlock), the whole being somewhat shallow, and very raggedly woven; one may almost count the eggs from beneath. These, three or four, laid here late in May, are .90 X .65 of an inch, delicate light-green, specked or heavily spotted with reddish-brown. This nest is often imposed upon by the Cow Blackbird. I once found one containing four of these eggs, and but two of the Tanager's; the former being in various stages of incubation, while the latter were nearly fresh. Wilson relates a beautiful incident concerning the parental affection of the Tanager. He says: " Passing through an orchard one morning I caught one of these young birds that had but lately left the nest. I carried it with me about half a mile to show it to my friend, Mr. William Bartram; and, having procured a cage, hung it up in one of the large pine trees in the botanic garden, within a few feet of the nest of an Orchard Oriole, which also contained young, hopeful that the charity or tenderness of the Orioles would induce them to supply the cravings of the stranger. But charity with them, as with too many of the human race, began and ended at home. The poor orphan was altogether neglected, notwithstanding its plaintive cries; and, as it refused to be fed by me, I was about to return it back to the place where I found it, when, towards the afternoon, a Scarlet Tanager, no doubt its own parent, was seen fluttering round the cage, endeavoring to get in. Finding this impracticable, he flew 1 i m 1:' 262 THE SCARLET TAN ACER. off, and soon returned with food in his bill, and continued to feed it till after sunset, taking up his lodgings on the higher branches of the same tree. In the morning, almost as soon as day broke, he was again seen most actively, engaged in the same affectionate manner; and, notwith- standing the insolence of the Orioles, continued his benev- olent offices the whole day, roosting at night as before. On the third or fourth day he appeared extremely solicitous for the liberation of his charge, using every expression of distressful anxiety, and every call and invitation that nature had put in his power for him to come out. This was too much for the feelings of my venerable friend; he procured a ladder, and, mounting to the spot where the bird was suspended, opened the cage, took out the prisoner, and restored him to liberty and to his parent, who, with notes of great exultation, accompanied his flight to the woods. The happiness of my good friend was scarcely less complete, and showed itself in his benevolent countenance; and I could not refrain saying to myself: If such sweet sensations can be derived from a single circumstance of this kind, how exquisite — how unspeakably rapturous — must the delight of those individuals have been, who have rescued their fellow-beings from death, chains, and imprisonment, and restored them to the arms of friends and relations! Surely in such God-like actions virtue is its own most abundant reward." In time of cherries, when the family is absent, and every- thing is quiet, the Tanager may come even into the door- yard to vary his insect diet with this fruit, so highly in favor with the birds. Late in summer, or early in autumn, the families move south, the old male having changed his coat of scarlet for one of green, sometimes c uite a little spotted with yellow, THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 263 the young male a beautiful dark green, with black wings and tail, the young female resembling her mother. Winter- ing in the tropics, they range northward in spring, through the Eastern United States, somewhat into the British Provinces, though becoming rare already in Northern New England. They breed throughout their range. The observer of birds will soon notice that in about every case of a brilliant male, the fetnale is exceedingly plain, as are also the young. Here is one of those suggestive facts, which lead the reflecting mind to ask the reason why. This does not look like mere chance; moreover, it serves a purpose. Excepting a brief period in the breeding season, the life of the female is of immensely greater importance to the perpetuation of the species than that of the male ; and the young, all unsuspecting of danger, need special pro- tection. Their plain colors render them alike unattractive to the eye of man, and inconspicuous to the bird or beast of prey. Even the male sometimes has his gay livery only in the breeding season, thus being protected in his southern migration and early winter residence. Can any ingenious conjecture of "Natural Selection " explain this significant fact in coloration ? Is not this an evidence of mind in the creation ? Or will the objector attribute a faculty of con- scious design to matter itself ? Might he not then as well believe in a personal Creative Intelligence ? How else shall we explain this mysterious something revealed in matter, which seems to know^ just what is fit under all circum- stances ? Similar to the above is the Summer Redbird {Pyranga (estiva). The length is 7.20, the stretch 11.87; the male is vermilion, brightest on the head, darker on the back, bright beneath; wings and tail brownish. The female is olivaceous- green above, yellowish below, wings darker or brownish. i ■;"l 1 ^:|^ 264 ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. Young, similar to the female. The bill is thicker in this spe- cies than in the Tanager. This is a bird of the Southern States, extending into Southern Illinois in the west. Its nest and eggs are similar to those of the Tanager, and its song is loud and melodious. ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. That song coming from the edge of the woods, and strongly resembling the finest performance of the Robin — only the warble is much more copious, continuously pro- ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. longed, and finely modulated with a peculiar richness, purity, and sweet pathos in the tones — is the music of the Rose-breasted Grosbeak {Goniaphea ludoviciand). Jet black with snow-white markings, the tint of rose on his breast and under his wings, he is the most strikingly beautiful of all our summer visitants ; and in the charm of song, as a poet and artist of the woodlands, he may rank even with ROSE-BREA S TED GROSBEAK. 260 the Thrushes. About 8 inches long ; the head, neck and upper parts are black ; bill, rump, under parts and mark- ings on wings and tail, white ; breast, rose-carmine ; lining under the wings, delicate rose. The female has the upper parts light brown, streaked with darker ; a line over the eye, a slight one below it, and one over the middle of the crown; tips of wing coverts, and under parts, white ; breast and sides streaked and spotted with brown ; bright yellow under the wings, and sometimes a tinge of the same on the upper part of the breast. I have also seen a rose-tint mixed with the yellow under her wings, and a most delicate tinge of the purest rose on the white rump of the male. The large bill of this bird, so strongly characterizing it and the group to which it belongs, is in such harmony with the general shape of the head as in nowise to mar its beauty. Indeed, the fleshy-tinged whiteness of this prominent organ ratHer adds to the elegance of the species. The stranger to our sylvan retreats will scarcely meet this charming bird; for its most agreeable summer resort is in swampy woods, where the shadows are deepened by tangled vines and a rank undergrowth, where flowers are large and deeply tinted from rich vege- table molds, and where the fragrant atmosphere is cool and moist. Often it is found in the thickets forming a sort of border-line between field and forest, and often in the lofty arcades of the densest and darkest woodlands. In such places, and rather local in his distribution, the male makes his appearance in Western New York from the first to the tenth of May; and stretching himself on tiptoe, delivers, m a hurried and spirited manner, his rare and delightful melody, giving one the impression of an exalted and unut- terable joy in a language which means much, but leaves much behind. Sometimes several appear together, vying •II w ■il 266 ROSE.BREA S TED GROSBEA K. \ with each other in song, and gamboling in the most sportive manner. A few days later, when the leaves unfolding in their soft down have fully expanded, the coy female appears. Her plain light colors are strongly in contrast with the ebony, chalk-white and deep rose of her consort; and as she is almost voiceless, a glimpse of her amidst the thick foliage is rather rare. The nest of this species, built late in May, is a frail and loosely-woven affair, placed in the top of a bush or on the lower horizontal limb of a tree. It is composed outside of small sticks, fine twigs, or coarse strawy material, orna- mented with a few skeleton-leaves, and is lined with very fine twigs of some evergreen (here, of the hemlock), or with i!ne rootlets, sometimes being finished with horse-hair, and the whole structure so loosely put together that one can see through it from beneath. The eggs, four or five, 1.00x.'75. are light green, specked and spotted with brown and lilac, the markings often thickened or wreathed around the large, sometimes around the small, end. In every way the nest and eggs bear a strong resemblance to those of the Scarlet Tanager, the nests of both these brilliant species being a sort of rude log-cabin affair, compared with the elegant nest-homes of many of our feathered tribes. I have more frequently found the male than the female on the nest. When disturbed they both keep very near, moving about the branches with much excitement, as they emit a sharp, creaking kimp, kimp, quite unlike the note of any other bird of my acquaintance. Though abundant here in their migrations, and breeding very commonly, it often requires a great deal of careful watching to get a glimpse of even the male. So shy and retiring is he at nearly all times as to be much more frequently heard than seen. He has been in favor as a cage-bird, and is said by some ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. 267 to sing freely in the night. Though he belongs to the Sparrows and Finches, and is therefore a seed and grain- eating bird in structure, he devours multitudes of insects. In early autumn, as the young males go south, resembling the female in color and marking, only much darker and richer, and delicately tinged with rose on the throat and breast, on the crown, and under the v/ings, they are truly beautiful. Wintering in the tropics, migrating through Eastern North America, rather rare in New England, but not un- common in Nova Scotia, the Rose-breast breeds from the Middle States to the latitudes of Labrador. It will thus be seen to belong to the Canadian as well as to the Alle- ghanian Fauna. The Blue Grosbeak {Goniaphea coeruled)^ some 7.25 long, the male blue, the female brown, is a southern species, reaching the District of Columbia, or even Pennsylvania in the east, and breeding commonly about Manhattan, Kansas, in the west. Excepting its greatt^r size, it bears a great resem- blance to ti '». indigo Bird in color, song, and nidification. Tha nest is in a tree not many feet from the ground. It is rathi'T )ulky, composed externally of paper, weeds, strings, bits of cotton or wool and cast-oft snake-skins, and is lined with rootlets, line grasses or horse-hairs. The three or four oval eggs, .95 x .62, are pale-blue. The Evening Grosbeak {Hesperiphona vc pertina) is a straggler from the northwest. Some 7.50-8.60 long, ** dusky olivaceous; brighter behind; forehead, line over eye and under tail-coverts, yellow; crown, wings, tail, and tibiae black, the secondary quills, mostly white; bill greenish- yellow, of immense size." (Coues.) It is noted for its melodious evening song. i H M\ i CHAPTER XIII. THE SWAMP, THE FIELD, AND THE LAKE. IN all the domain of nature the"e is nothing which closely resembles the nidification of birds. Certain reptiles lay eggs, but, properly speaking, make no nest; nor are their eggs, which differ very materially from those of birds, incubated by the warmth of their bodies. Every animal comes from an egg, but in the case of mammalia, the young are brought forth alive, and nourished by the milk of the female parent. In the case of a bird, whether moving in the air or on the water, lightness is a prime necessity. Hence, in bringing forth their numerous progeny, they do not perform the office of gestation; but the nest, and the external warmth of the body, so well secured by the plumage, serve the purpose of the uterine organs in the mammalia. Wonderful indeed is that internal impulse of instinct, by which the bird is in- duced to make a nest, and by which it is guided in the loca- tion and manner of constructing the same. How came that mother-bird to know she needed a nest ? Who instructed her to adapt it to its peculiar purpose ? What strange power keeps her on the nest till the young are brought forth ? For the most part, the different species of birds have cer- tain well-defined plans for building their nests, as well as certain places for locating them. The nest is placed on the limbs of a tree or bush, in a natural or prepared cavity, in an excavation of the earth, in some cemented structure, or. NIDI PICA TION. 269 more frequently than anywhere else, on the ground. Again these nests are variously formed and joined together. They are flat and loosely built of coarse materials, in the case of most birds of prey and Herons, and these birds are called platform-builders; or, they are more or less cup-shaped, rimmed up, as in the case of the majority of nests built about trees and bushes, and on the ground; or, they are more or less basket-shaped, as, for example, the nests of the Red-winged Blackbird and the Vireos; or, they are sewed together, as those of the Orioles, or that of the famous Tailor-bird; or, they have the structure of a loose felt; or, they are dome-shaped. Hence, some very intelligent writers have attempted to classify birds according to their styles of nidificati'^n, calling them carpenters, masons, miners, plat- form-builders, basket-makers, felt-makers, weavers, cement- ers, tailors, etc. But this method of classification fails to conform to any other system, and bears no relation what- ever to the most important data for determining orders. Birds so similar in structure and habit, as to represent the same order, may vary essentially in their nidification. Most kinds of Hawks, for instance, build platform-nests in trees, while other kinds construct quite different nests on the ground, and others still lay their eggs in cavities of trees, almost without any nest whatever. The different kinds of Swallows also adopt widely different modes of nesting, some occupying cavities in trees or stumps, while others are miners, tunneling a cavity into the ground, and others still are cementers. Besides, the above method is imperfect in itself, failing to make provision for some very important groups, as those which commonly occupy cavities already prepared, or those which lay their eggs on the ground with- out any nest, or those which build their nests, raft-like, on the water. Nor does the same species always construct or I !{U ■ il . Hi ■,'i I f ^1 270 NIDIFICA TION. place its nest in the same way. The Song Sparrow is gen- erally a ground-builder, but in the latter part of the season it frequently places its nest in a hedge or in a low bush. The Crow Blackbirds, in these parts, invariably build in a tree, but in the south, Audubon found them appropriating the cavities of treeS, while Wils'>n not infrequently found them a sort of parasite on the nest of the Fish Hawk. For the most part, birds' eggs are objects of great beauty. Their form is unique and fine, their surface highly finished, and their colors and markings often elegant. How strongly differentiated too, generally, are the eggs of the birds of each family! The blue-green eggs of the Thrushes; the translucent white eggs of the Woodpeckers; the delicate, white gems, specked with red, deposited by Titmice, Nut- hatches and Creepers; the roundish, pure-white eggs of the Owls; the light bluish-green eggs of the Herons; and the smooth-shelled, creamy or green-tinted eggs of the Ducks, are all data for classification to the naturalist. Richard Owen, the great comparative anatomist of Eng- land, after giving the complicated and wonderful history of an egg in its various stages till it reaches perfection; and after showing the nice contrivances in the yolk and albu- men, by which the cicatricle or germ is always held upper- most, no matter how many times the egg is turned over, in order to keep it in contact with the sitting dam, and so secure incubation and protect it from jars or injuries in harsh movements; and after showing how " the domed form of the hard shell enables it to bear the superincumbent weight of the brooding mother," well says: "How these modifications of the oviparous egg in anticipatory relation to the needs and conditions of incubation can be brought about by * selective * or other operations of an unintelligent nature is not conceivable by me." BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. 271 These different birds' eggs, placed in varied and artistic styles of nests, make bird-nesting peculiarly fascinating, especially when it gratifies a thirst for knowledge. Then the careful manner in which many nests are hidden away among grass and foliage, or placed in remote regions, almost beyond the reach of civilization, makes them objects of an exciting curiosity, and contributes greatly to their value. One of my most interesting places for the study of birds in their breeding haunts is Tonawanda Swamp, bordering Orleans County on the south, extending into Genesee County southward, and far to the eastward and westward. Very different indeed is the character of its various localities. Here, in the midst of an almost undisturbed wilderness are glassy ponds and coves, where various water-birds revel in their migrations, and in the vicinity of which some rear their young. Here are miry marshes, tracts of fallen trees par- tially submerged, forests and low lands of dense shrubbery standing in the water a great part of the year; dense groves of cedar, extensive moss-bogs, cranberry marshes, and wild meadows dry in summer and in early autumn. It is a very paradise of wild flowers, shrubs, climbing and running vines, and plants both delicate and curious. BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. On a beautiful morning, the 7th of May, I enter one of the cedar groves of the above region. In these deep shadowy recesses I hear in various directions the song of the Black- throated Green Warbler {Dendroeca virens). The notes are most peculiar, and once identified can never be forgotten. Many writers have described this song, for it seems to sug- gest to almost every one some fancied phrase. One has given it as " ffear me Saint Ther-e-sa/' vrhile one of my private correspondents represents the song by the ditty, wVm 272 BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. " A little bit of bread and no cheese ; " and one distinguished writer has indicated it simply by straight lines, thus, /y/ . In all these attempts I can detect a fair de- scription of the song, though none of them would have been suggested to my ear. I never hear the song, however, with- out thinking of the following resemblance : — " Wee-wee-su- see," each syllable uttered slowly and well drawn out; that before the last in a lower tone than the two former, and the last syllable noticeably on the upward slide; the whole being a sort of insect tone, altogether peculiar, and by no means unpleasing. It seems somehow to harmonize finely with pines, larches and hemlocks. The ordinary four syllables of this ditty are sometimes increased in number in the first part, sounding like wee-wee- 7t>ee-wee-su-seey and it is then uttered more hurriedly, making you feel that a breeze may soon spring up among the pines; and generally the different strains are intermixed with sharp chipping notes, making the bird appear more spirited as it nears you sufficiently to bring these metallic notes within hearing. Many a time have I strained my eyes after this little song- ster, looking up into the thick cedars till my neck seemed almost dislocated, and getting only an occasional glimpse of him, so shy is he as he moves leisurely about in these shadowy abodes. A sight of him, however, well rewards the efifort, for he is a rare beauty. About 5.00 long, moulded after the Dendroeca^ the olivaceous-green above often contains fine triangular spots of black; the dusky wing and tail feathers have a narrow, outward edge of white^ while the cheeks of lemon-yellov with a wavy line of blackish through the eye, the white bars across the wing, and the jet-black throat, breast and sides bounding the greenish white under parts, differentiate him strongly. The colors and markings BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. 273 of the female are similar, but generally more obscure, al- though I have seen her almost as fine as the male. This Warbler is always to be associated with evergreen groves and forests. In New England it is found among the pines, here among the cedars and hemlocks. As its nest is placed well up in the almost impenetrable thickets of these branches, it is exceedingly difficult to find. In this (Tonawanda) swamp, where the bird resides in abund- ance throughout the summer, I have searched for its nest days at a time, lying on the ground and watching the birds in all their movements, and then climbing into the trees and continuing to observe them while they kept up their flitting motions and their song, almost constantly through- out the day, and even into the dusk of the evening; but never did I succeed in finding the nest in this locality. On the 17th of last June (1381), at the foot of the Lecloche Mountains, just north of Great Manitoulin Island, on the Georgian Bay, I finally found the nest. About half a mile from the bay, where the rushing waters of Lacloche Creek left a lake in the mountains for this grand outlet, I had dis- covered the Warblers to be very numerous — the Black- throated Blue, the Yellow-rump or Myrtle Bird, the Yellow- backed Blue, the Black - and - yellow or Spotted, the Chestnut-sided, and I think I also heard the Black-poll Warbler. But so tormentingly numerous were the black flies, mosquitoes, and gnats, or " no-see-ums," as the Indi- ans call them, that to remain there for observation was unendurable. Again and again did I apply the olive oil and tar, so highly recommended as a preventive of this nuisance, but it relieved me only a little longer than while I was rubbing it on. Noticing that the Indians in my vicinity made their half-open wigwams apparently free from these vermin by a smudge in front, or to the wind- 18 J 274 BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. ward, I concluded to profit by their example, and setting a match to a few dry leaves and shreds of birch-bark, upon which I piled green hemlock boughs, I soon had a relief, which was both complete and agreeable; the hemlock giv- ing off a most delightful fragrance, as well as an abundance of smoke, in combustion. For a radius of several rods around me my minute tormentors were obliged to flee; and on a bed of moss surrounded by the delicate and odorous little twin-flower (that beauty of the northern parts of both the Old World and the New, so greatly admired by, as well as named after, the great Linnaeus), I continued my obser- vations in peace. For a while I watch a pair of little Yel- low-backed Blue Warblers, tugging at a bunch of so-called long-green moss — alias usnea — hanging from the dead limb of a tall hemlock; but I am soon diverted by the near approach of a Black-throated Green Warbler, hopping about very nervously, her mouth full of small, green larva. Understanding the sign full well, I am all attention, and the bird seems equally attentive to me. For some time she dallies and delays, but the knowledge of hungry little mouths overcomes the parent's hesitation, and in a more or less zigzag line, now behind the thick branches and now in plain sight, she soon reaches the nest; which, behold ! is on the limb of a young hemlock, just above my head. ** So near and yet so far!" full well applies to bird-nesting. Not a few birds deserve but little sympathy in the loss of their nests — they are such witches at hiding them away! No time to lose. I hug the tree and scramble to the nest, some twenty feet from the ground, a few feet from the trunk, and where the limb sends out several small boughs. The founda- tion of the structure is of fine shreds of bark of the white birch, fine dry twigs of the hemlock, bits of fine grass, weeds, and dried rootlets, intermixed with usnea, and lined BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. 275 with rootlets, fine grass, some feathers, and horse-hair. It was rather loose, open, and bulky, and contained four young, partly fledged. Failing tc find the eggs for myself, I resort for description to a set from Reading, Massachu- setts, in Professor Ward's collection at Rochester, N. Y. They are four in number, about .70 x .49, creamy-white, having a well-defined and beautiful wreath of spots and small blotches of red, brown and lilac, intermixed with a few specks of black. Wintering in Cuba, Mexico and Central America, Den- droeca virens ranges through Eastern North America, breed- ing from New York and Southern New England northward to Newfoundland. It enters its breeding habitat by the first week of May, and leaves in October. It has been found in Greenland and in Europe as a straggler. THE BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. In this thick grove of cedars I am almost constantly within sight or sound of the Black-and-white Creeping Warbler {JMniotilta varid). About five inches long, spotted and streaked all over, except a white space underneath, with jet-black and chalk- white, this bird is very conspicuous as it moves in a hopping, jerking manner and in a spiral direction, very much in the style of the Brown Creeper, along the trunks and larger limbs of trees. Like the latter, too, it has the habit of descending to the lower part of the trunk of a neighboring tree, when getting pretty well up; but its sharply defined markings, especially the broad white line over the head and back of the neck, cause it to be seen much more readily than its little brown neighbor, which is so similar in color and markings to the bark which it climbs with such ease and gracefulness. But while his movements are those of a Creeper, the structure of Mniotilta is that of a WM W . --a -ii'! 276 BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. Warbler, except that his front toes are a little more joined together at the base, and his hind toe a little longer and his bill somewhat curved toward the tip. Very remarkable indeed is this joint relationship of certain birds with two or more different groups, so that it is only by a careful noting of their stronger affinities that we can find their rank in classi- fication. They serve as a sort of softening or blending of the otherwise harsher boundaries of orders. Not only does our little bird readily attract the eye; his fine, soft and yet distinct song, ki-tsee, ki-tsee, ki-tsee, ki-tseey as slender to the ear as " hair-wire " to the eye, and rather monotonous indeed, but so peculiar, so tender, so musical, as even to soften and sweeten surrounding nature — is equally attractive and pleasing to the ear. Warbler or Creeper, he is one of the most welcome and beloved com- panions of the dark woods and deep, swampy ravines which he is wont to inhabit. Always keeping more or less to the lower story of his shadowy abodes, his nest is generally on the ground, near the root of a decaying stump or tree, and so placed that "an overhanging rock, a log, the branch- ing roots of a tree, or herbage of the preceding year affords protection." It is a rather loose and scanty structure of dried leaves and grasses, strips of bark, or pine needles,^ containing perhaps some vegetable down and horse-hair as lining. The eggs, averaging about four, .70X-50 or a little more, and somewhat pointed, are creamy white, finely specked, more thickly around the large end, with light brown and a little pale lilac. The situation of this Warbler's nest seems to vary considerably, however, in some cases. In Louisiana Audubon found it "usually placed in some small hole in a tree." Nuttall found one "niched in the shelving of a rock." Df. Brewer reports one found in the drain of a BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER, 277 house, while H. D. Minot found one "in the cavity of a tree rent by lightning, and about five feet from the ground," and another " on the top of a low birch stump, which stood in a grove of white oaks." A nest, received from Nova Scotia, found with callow young on the 19th of June, was placed on the top of an old stump, about two feet from the ground, so set in the moss and dried leaves as to be pretty much concealed, the top of the stump somehow supporting several young maples. The nest is quite deep and substantial, composed of leaves and coarse bark-fibers throughout. It bears a decided resem- blance to the nest of the Golden-winged Warbler. The chipping^ or ordinary alarm and conversational notes, of the Black-and-white Creeper is somewhat varied, and the female is not so clearly marked, having the black and white of the throat of the male replaced by a dull white or grayish. Migratory throughout Eastern North America, even to the fur countries, a few only remaining in the extreme Southern States in winter, this bird breeds throughout its range, in this habit resembling the Brown Creeper rather than the Warblers. . As I observe this Creeping Warbler, so industriously gleaning the smaller insects with their eggs and larvae from the bark of our forest trees, I am reminded of the economic utility of our birds in the destruction of insects. The Woodcock and Wilson's Snipe bore into the soft ground in search of worms; the Sparrows, the Blackbirds, the Thrushes, and many others, glean the caterpillars, grubs, beetles and bugs upon its surface; the Barn and Eave Swal- lows, the Purple Martin, the Bluebird and the Common Wren, greatly reduce the spiders and other noxious insects about our residences; King Birds, Shrikes, Orioles, Robins, (Goldfinches, the Yellow Warbler and the Warbling Vireo W^ h m ' .l' I I fia >ii' '' n Wii IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ ^ 4^ 1.0 I.I ^ lift i 12.5 iii 14.0 2.0 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STMIT WnSTIR.N.Y. Msao (7l6)t72-4S03 ^\ iV ^ •^ A \ 4^ ? 4^ i\ 278 BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. protect the gardens and orchards against their numberless pests; the Warblers, Vireos, Creepers and Nuthatches guard our noble forests from the topmost foliage to the lower bark-crevices; while even the Hawks and Owls contribute not a little to the same great work of keeping in check the swarming hosts of insects. The feathered tribes are there- fore our most useful allies against that part of animated nature which more than any other endangers our welfare, namely, those insects which threaten our very subsistence. It may be doubted whether the indiscriminate slaughter of any of our birds is wise. Changing my position somewhat in this great swamp, I come into a wet slashing, having a dense second growth of evergreens and various kinds of hard wood. O, the native vines and wild flowers 'vhich everywhere abound! How completely that Virginia creeper has enveloped the trunk and larger limbs of yonder tall elm, its diqitate or hand- shaped leaves of five pointed and serrate leaflets of dark and glossy green, covering the bark like a thick luxuriant mantle, and making the tree appear at once most graceful and superb. That virgin's bower entwining its petioles so ele- gantly around a clump of bushes, either in its bloom so like a fall of light snow-flakes, or in the heavy plumes of its fruitage, may vie with any member of its family, even the gay hybrids of the Old World. The remains of that large tree — a very monarch of the forest, fallen generations ago perhaps — is enrobed in a thick plumose covering of hyp- num mosses, variegated with star-flowers and mitreworts, in a manner which defies description. And what shall we say of the lady slippers, azaliaf, and honeysuckles, just about to unfold their charms? Art can do much in the way of placing and adjusting nature's beauties, but what can equal the grace of wild vines, plants and flowers in their native THE CANADA WARBLER. 279 arrangements? The wild grape-vine will festoon the forest into domes, arches, and colonades, till it would seem the very haunt of faries and sylvan deities. Liverworts, lichens and ferns will drape the scars, rents and chasms of the earth's surface with an inimitable beauty. I have seen an old decayed stump in the forest, so dressed up from base to top in fine mosses, and the whole broad top such a mass of enchanter's nightshade with its delicate spray of leaves and ethereal white blossoms, as to make it an object to be coveted for the most royal domain. Had I enough of Mother Earth that I could call my own, I would have a flower garden according to nature; one which might show no trace of human interference. If Adam and Eve had the judgment and good taste generally attributed to them, in some such manner, I think, must they have kept the Garden of Eden. THE CANADA WARBLER. From a point in the thick bushes, somewhere near by, there comes a song so peculiar both in enunciation and in tone, that my genial companion in these sylvan studies challenges my imitation of it. I finally resolve it, however, into the following syllables: — thi-reach-a-dee, reach-a-dee^ reach-a-dee-chi — uttered in a hurried and spirited manner, with a striking mixture of sibilant notes, and so much of ventriloquism that it seems almost impossible to locate the singer, though he be but a few yards distant. The bird, moreover, is so shy and such an adept at concealment in the thick foliage that I spend many minutes in the most attentive observation before I can get even a glimpse of him. Finally, while on hands and knees I am peering out from under a thick bed of cinnamon ferns, the songster, all unconscious of my presence, stands out in full view. About 5.50 long, the bluish-ash on the entire upper parts blends 280 THE CANADA WARBLER. with the shadows in the thicket, and the bright lemon-yel- low of the entire under parts seems almost the effect of the sunlight through the openings among the leaves; but there is a broad collar of jet-black spots across the breast, over the forehead and down the cheeks and sides of the neck, where the bluish-ash of the upper parts joins the yellow of the throat, the former color shading into clear black as it meets the line — these markings, along with the yellow eye- lids, help me to define him as the Canada Warbler {Myio- diodes canadensis). I find the bird abundant here in almost any swampy region throughout the breeding season; and there is, I think, no appreciable difference between the sexes. Having identified my specimen, and risen from my place of concealment, the bird becomes greatly excited, hopping about among the leaves, bowing and " courtesying " prettily indeed, but not obsequiously, and uttering a sharp chipping note. I am reminded by the white or flesh-colored legs and feet that this is what is commonly called a Ground Warbler, and that its nest, therefore, is on the ground. I make diligent search, as I have often done since, but all in vain. A Ground Warbler's nest is one of the very hardest to find. Others, however, have been fortunate enough to find the nest, and from them I make out the following description: Mr. Burroughs found one in the bank of a stream; Mr. Boshart, of Lowville, N. Y., found one sunk into the moss on the side of an old log, while others generally report the nest as found on the ground ; Audubon alone describing it as built otherwise — " in the fork of a small branch of laurel,, not above four feet from the ground." It is coarsely and rather loosely built of leaves, dried grasses, etc., lined with horse-hair. The eggs, .68X.60, are white, marked with brown and lilac, somewhat clouded at the large end, and slightly specked all over. \ THE WINTER WREN, 281 . WinteHng beyond the United States, the Canada Warbler extends through Eastern North America to Labrador, breed- ing from New York northward. I do not think this bird is as numerous far to the north or northeast as it is in suitable places in this locality. Mr. Chamberlain reports it as only an occasional summer resi- dent in New Brunswick, and I did not find it in Nova Scotia, nor does Mr. Downs, 9f Halifax, report it in his pri- vate list of the Warblers sent to me. Its bill bears a strong resemblance to that of a Flycatcher, and it has therefore been called a Flycatching Warbler. THE WINTER WREN. Working my way back among the cedars to a spot where the timber has been somewhat thinned by the axe of the woodman, and where brush is piled up here and there, I am startled by a most remarkable bird-song, which I have sev- eral times heard in these parts before, but have never been able to identify. Copious, rapid, prolonged and penetrating, having a great variety of the sweetest tones, and uttered in a rising and falling or finely undulating melody, from every region of these " dim isles " this song calls forth the sweet- est woodland echo. It seems as if the very atmosphere be- came resonant I stand entranced and amazed, my very soul vibrating to this gushing melody, which seems at once expressive of the wildest joy and the tenderest sadness. Is it the voice of some woodland elf, breaking forth into an ecstasy of delight, but ending its lyric in melting notes of sorrow ? I strain my eyes this way and that way to get a glimpse of the songster in the gloom of these damp, shadowy regions, but cannot determine even the precise direction of the sounds, so much of ventriloquism is there in this won- derful performance. Having turned to every point of the ! hi 282 THE WINTER WREN. compass, I finally discover the singer. He is perched on a small dry limb of a cedar a few feet from the ground. The volume and tone of the song lead me to expect a bird at least as large as a Thrush, but lo, he is one of the most di- minutive of the feathered tribes — the Winter Wren ! I can- not be mistaken, for quite near and in full view, his short tail thrown forward and his head partially raised, I can see his breast swell and tremble while he several times repeats his song. About 4.00 long, and thus about a half inch shorter than the Common or House Wren, and of the same reddish-brown waved with darker, the Winter Wren {Anor- thura troglodytes var. hyemalis) is to be distinguished by his much shorter tail, and his white or whitish markings on the sides of the head and on the primaries. But one does well to make out this much while the bird is " in the bush ;" — so diminutive, so nearly the color of dried bark and leaves, and dodging in and out of rock-crevices, brush heaps and bushes with the ease and rapidity of a mouse, it will be necessary, in most cases, to obtain the bird " in the hand " in order to identify it. Though this species may be heard occasionally in the cool cedar groves of Tonawanda Swamp throughout the breeding season, I have not been one of the very few fortu- nate enough to find its nest. Audubon found two nests. One was in the pine woods of Pennsylvania, near Mauch Chunk, on the lower part of the trunk of a tree, "a pro- tuberance covered with moss and lichens, resembling those excrescences which are often seen on our forest trees, with this difference, that the aperture was perfectly rounded, clean, and quite smooth. * * * Externally, it measured seven inches in length, four and a half in breadth; the thickness of its walls, composed of moss and lichens, was nearly two inches; and thus it presented internally the THE WINTER WREN. 283 appearance of a narrow bag, the wall, however, being re- duced to a few lines where it was in contact with the bark of the tree. The lower half of the cavity was compactly- lined with the fur of the American Hare, and in the bottom or bed of the nest there lay over this about half a dozen of the large, downy abdominal feathers of our Common Grouse, {Tetrao umbellus). The eggs were of a delicate blush color, somewhat resembling the paler leaves of a partially decayed rose, and marked with dots of reddish-brown, more numer- ous towards the larger end." The second nest he found " was attached to the lower part of a rock," on the bank of the Mohawk River. It was similar to the other, only smaller, and contained six eggs, the same number as found in the former. The nest, with eggs of this species upon which our later ornithologists have been pretty much dependent for their descriptions, was found by W. F. Hall in Eastern Maine; the " nest built in an unoccupied log-hut, among the fir- leaves and mosses in a crevice between the logs. It was large and bulky, composed externally cf mosses, and lined with feathers and the fur of hedge-hogs. The shape w^as that of a pouch, the entrance being neatly framed with sticks, and the walls very strong, thick, and firmly com- pacted. Its hemlock framework had been made of green materials, and their agreeable odor pervaded the whole structure." Mr. H. D. Minot says: "Five eggs, not quite fresh, which I took from a nest in the White Mountains on the 23d of July (probably those of a second set), were pure crystal-white, thinly and minutely specked with bright reddish-brown, and averaging about .VOX. 50 of an inch. The nest, thickly lined with feathers of the Ruffed Grouse, was in a low, moss-covered stump, about a foot high, in a ll n •if 284 THE SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN. dark, swampy forest, filled with tarigled piles of fallen trees and branches. The entrance to the nest on one side was very narroTv, its diameter being less than an inch, and was covered with an overhanging bit of moss, which the bird was obliged to push up on going in." In 1878 Mr. Jarres Bradbury, of Maine, found three nests, one "sunk into the thick moss which enveloped the trunk of a fallen tree," and two placed under the roots of fallen trees. All the above nests seemed to resemble each other in being more or less globular, with an entrance at the side, the external structure being of moss, or of moss and twigs, and thickly lined with fur and feathers; each nest being in- geniously concealed or ensconced away. The eggs, five or six, some .65X-50, are crystal-white, specked and spotted with reddish-brown, the markings being generally distribu- ted or gathered about the large end. This species, closely allied to the Common Wren of Eu- rope, occupies all North America, wintering from the Mid- dle States, or even New England, southward; and breeding from about the same point northward, especially in Maine and even in Labrador. Considering the smallness of its wings, and its ordinarily short flights, the inimense distances of its migrations have always been a great mystery to ornithologists. Alaska has a larger variety of this species, named Anorthura alascensis. THE SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN. As I traverse an open marsh in another part of this same swamp, a part which is wet in the late fall and the early spring, but dry in summer, I find the Short-billed Marsh Wrens {Cistothorus stellaris) in considerable numbers. If dependent on the eye merely it would be exceedingly diffi- cult to find these diminutive creatures, as they are nearly all THE SHORT.BILLED MARSH WREN. 285 the time down out of sight in the clumps of bushes, the tall grasses or the still taller sedges; but one is constantly aided in the search for them by their noisy notes and odd songs. Chip-chip-chi-chi-chi-chi, or tsip-tsip-tse-tse-tse-tse — the first two or three notes being uttered more slowly, the rest very rapidly, and all in a sharp, metallic and spirited tone — may represent the song, which is not very musical, indeed, but rather pleasing, and decidedly enlivening to these otherwise quiet marshes. Like any other Wren, this species is exceedingly sprightly in all its motions, and is a very adept at clinging to and sliding up and down the culms of grasses and sedges — tipping, tilting and tossing its tail in every conceivable manner. In voice and in action it is certainly an intensely animated bit of nature. Scarcely 4.50 long, and very slender, it is streaked with light and dark brown over the head, nearly black, mixed with some reddish brown and streaked with white on the back, wings and tail dusky, barred with light brown, under parts gray- ish-white, shading into light brown on the sides. The nest, about the size and shape of a common cocoa- nut, composed of dried and thoroughly bleached grasses and sedges, is closely compacted, with a clear round open- ing on the side near the top, and is more or less lined with vegetable down. This structure rests on the ground at the roots of the sedges, or is ti ;d to their culms a very few inches from the ground. In this and corresponding localities it is made early in June. The eggs, some 7 or 8, about .54 X .48, so rather roundish — (Dr. Coues reports them "rather elon- gate")— are of a fine porcelain-white, having the highly finished surface of the Woodpecker's eggs. These white eggs are an anomaly among Wrens. The Short-billed Marsh Wrens are said by Nuttall — who was the first to point them out as different from the i ■■# I ii = ; -tfti 286 MARYLAND YELLOW-THROATED WARBLER. Common Marsh Wren — to "spend much of their time in quest of insects, chiefly crustaceous, which, with moths, constitute their principal food." This species differs from the Common Marsh Wren in its notes; in its shorter bill; in its darker colored breast; in its inhabiting dryer places — its nest never, I think, being placed over water; in the position of its nest, always on or near the ground — being composed of bleached material and very com- pactly made (wrongly figured by Audubon) — and, particu- larly, in its pure white eggs. Wintering in the Southern States, the Short-billed Marsh Wren breeds throughout the Eastern United States to New England and Manitoba; but it is not nearly as generally distributed as its cousin of the longer bill. It reaches these middle districts early in May, and leaves early in September. MARYLAND VELLOW-THROATED WARBLER. Reaching a bog, where, in trying to cross, I sink at every step into an almost bottomless bed of soft moss, I hope to find something new. In respect to plants, I see at once that I shall not be disappointed. Here is the curious pitcher-plant in abundance. Its leaves, having the bowl, handle and spout of a pitcher, are full of water; and its flower, which will appear in a few weeks, will be almost as curious as its leaves. Here too, I find the marvelous little sundew, Drosera rotundifolia^ about which the evolutionist, Darwin, has written so much. The little round leaves are thickly beset with transparent bristles, each of which bears on its extremity a viscid globule as clear as a dew-drop. These glandular hairs are said to be sensitive, and to entrap insects, but I cannot make the experiment succeed. Around the edge of this bog, among the varied shrubbery belonging almost entirely to the Heath and Rose families, MARYLAND YELLOW-THROATED WARBLER. 287 I hear the song of the Maryland Yellow-throat {Geothlypis trichas)^ a warbler quite common to the shrubbery of our swamps and low lands. The song of this bird is very dis- tinctive and easy to recognize. Weech-a-tee^ weech-a-tecy tveech-a-teey weech-a-tee, in 'loud whistling tones, slowly and distinctly uttered, and strongly accented on the first syllable of each repetition, represent it to my imagination. Some- times, however, a syllable of each group of notes is left out, making the melody sound like weech-eCy weech-ee, weech-ecy weech-ee. The song is very constant, but the singer is rather shy, keeping out of sight in the thick foliage the greater part of the time. Nearly 5.00 long, and having a very short, round wing for a warbler, the male is olive-green above, becoming grayish on the back of the head and neck, throat and under parts yellow, becoming lighter on the belly; over the forehead and eyes and down the cheeks is a broad band of jet-black, bordered behind with ash which shades into the grayish-green beyond ; legs, flesh-color. The female lacks the black and ash on the head, and has the crown brownish. In sprightliness of song and distinctive color of plumage, this Warbler ranks high, being one of those bright, melodious birds of the swamp which, like certain very brill- iant and fragrant flowers of the same locality, are a de- lightful offsetting to stagnant pools, quagmires, pestiferous vapors, and tormenting insects. Like the rest of the War- blers, it is a great destroyer of insects, without at any time injuring the products of industry. The nest of this species is on the ground near some stream, or in a low, wet place at the roots of bushes; is generally well sunken into the ground, made of dried leaves and grasses, often lined with hair, and is sometimes arched over after the manner of the Golden-crowned Accentor. Mr. W. Brewster found a nest of this species on June 3d, 1876, in 288 THE BOBOLINK, the top of a ground juniper, some two feet from the gp* .aad. The 4 or 5 eggs, some . 70 x -65, are white, specked and spotted, sometimes wreathed with light brown and lilac. Clear white eggs rarely occur. Wintering sparingly in our southern border, but mostly beyond, the Maryland Yellow-throat breeds throughout the Union, abundantly in the Middle States, and commonly in New England and Nova Scotia. Audubon saw none in Newfoundland nor in Labrador. THE BOBOLINK. Leaving the swamp and coming out into the broad mead- ows in the vicinity, I am greeted by the newly-arrived Bobolink {Dolichonyx oryzivorus). It is difficult to speak of THE BOBOLINK. the Bobolink without going into ecstasies. To say the least, he is the finest bird of our fields and meadows. See him mount that stake by the road-side! Every feather of his jet-black front is partially raised, the elegant creamy- white patch on the back of the head and neck is elevated into a crest; his wings and scapulars, so finely marked with white, THE BOBOLINK. 289 are partially extended; and as he pours forth his mar/elous song, he waltzes gracefully to his own music, turning slowly around, so that the beholder may have a fair view of all sides. Now he launches into the air, and — half hovering — half flying — his song becomes even more resonant and pene- trating; the loud, rich, liquid notes of his prolonged and varied warble causing the air to vibrate over many acres of the open field. The first tinkling tones are like those of a fine musical box rapidly struck, then com- ihe longer drawn notes as of a rich viol or violin, and finally the sweet liquid, limpid, gurgling sounds as of an ex i lisite bell-( med piano lightly and skillfully couched. These several different ffri! IS, variously modulated, are uttere'i vtith a rapid, gush- ing volubility, which to an untrained ear might sound like the performance of a whole chorus of songsters. As the strain ceases, he drops down most gracefully with elevated wings into the clover, or, grasping the elastic culms of the taller grasses, swings proudly on his tiny perch. Each in- dividual adopts his own territory and adheres to it, compell- ing his intruding neighbor to retire to his own side of the road or fence, and then returning to his own domain with the air of independence and authority. Here he keeps up his proud antics and charming melody some week or ten days before the female arrives. Only 7.50 long, and very nearly the colors and marking of a Sparrow — the lighter parts being simply a little more yellowish — you would never suspect her relation to such a gay consort. He recog- nizes her at once, however, and begins his ardent demon- strations. He sings and waltzes to her, hovers in front of her, fairly rending his throat in the ardor of his musical per- formance; and when she in her coyness, real or feigned, flees from him, he pursues her closely, and they dash in and out of bushes, trees, and fences with the most perilous speed. 19 ■:n' Mi It i : 290 THE BOBOLINK. More than once he slackens the chase for a few minutes, alighting and throwing in a few of his finest musical flour- ishes, and again renews it as ardently as ever, till at length he completely wins the object of his passion. Now they are seen together for a short time, and then the modest female retires among the clover and the taller grasses of the lux- uriant meadow; and, scooping out a rather deep cavity in the ground, arranges a frail, loose nest of dried grasses, and lays her 6 eggs — ^averaging about .OOX-S'?, white tinged with brown, spotted, blotched, and clouded with several shades of brown, and also a neutral shade of brownish-lilac. She adheres most closely to her nest. In walking across, the field you may almost step on her before she will leave her treasures. Then flying only a few feet, she is instantly out of sight again; and unless you are a ready observer, or have some knowledge of birds and nests, you will be puzzled to know what you have found. As the Bobolink raises but one brood, and in the thick grass, some time before the hay is cut, its nest is but seldom seen by the farmer. During the whole period of incubation the male is one of the happiest of birds. Without any perceptible sense of care, or of any misgiving whatever, he keeps up his gay per- formances of waltzing, flight, and song, with but little intermission, his beautiful figure adding greatly to the charms of the summer landscape, and his far-reaching melody harmonizing grandly with the joyousness of the season, and ever cheering the husbandman in his long hours of toil. If the Bay-winged Sparrow is "the poet of the plain, unadorned pastures," the Bobolink is the poet of the luxu- riant blooming meadows, announcing the beauty and the promise of the fruit-blossoms, and hymning the bright hues and the fragrance of the. clover. It is the utterance of all the youth and joy of spring— of an unbounded hilarity. THE BOBOLINK. 291 In due time the young appear, a thrifty family, all clad in the plain but beautiful habit of the female, having a great deal of yellow, almost of bright yellow, on the under parts. When they leave the nest the parents show the great- est solicitude for them, flitting about in the most excited manner, and chipping loudly when their domain is intruded upon. The nest of the Bobolink being so well hid away, and in parts little infested by enemies, it would seem that the species must sustain but a small loss during the breed- ing season. These birds have their casualties, however. Walking once over a meadow along a little stream, I saw a young Bobolink fluttering over the edge of the water; and going up to it, saw something like a good sized stone just under it, which I imagined had in some way fastened down the bird so that it could not get away. Taking hold of the supposed stone and lifting it out of . the water to free the bird, my triend accompanying me called out, "« turtle!" Sure enough! a large turtle had been holding the bird by the foot, but relinquished it on my interference. I do not know which was the quickest, I to let go the turtle, or the bird to fly away to the woods beyond. Perhaps the bird, thinking this reptile a stone, had lit on it to drink, and had thus been entraped by the treacherous object. About the 20th of August these birds are gathered in flocks preparatory to migration. By this time the old males have laid aside the gay livery of the breeding season, and appear as plain and sparrow-like as the rest of the family. Imagine the chagrin and disappointment of European bird fanciers, in the early history of our country, who, having captured Bobolink in all the glory of the breeeding season. ;K i ! 292 THE BOBOLINK, beheld him turn brown and spotted as a Sparrow and be- come voiceless ere they reached the end of their long* voyage homeward! Nor does this bird ever resume his bright colors while caged. Exceedingly perplexing, too, was this change of plumage to the first students of Ameri- can ornithology, who saw the males migrite in immense numbers to the north in spring, but saw none return to the south in autumn. As soon as the Bobolinks begin to flock for their very leisurely fall migration, their whole manner is entirely changed. Who would imagine those immense flocks of plain birds, flying high, and in the swift undulating manner of the Goldfinch, over the marshes about Niagara River in August, to be the same species which he saw enlivening the meadows the spring before. That plain and subdued note which it repeats quite leisurely — quait, quaity quait — could give no clue to the voice of the same bird a few weeks earlier. But fire into the flock as they alight among the weeds and grasses after the manner of Snowbirds in winter, and like them, feed on seeds instead of insects, and you will find them to be veritable Bobolinks in excellent condition, and not at all of mean appearance, clad in their finely-marked suits of greenish-yellow and brown. These autumnal mi- grations continue thi ough the day and the night, and pretty much throughout the month of August along Niagara River and along the shores of our Great Lakes in its vicinity. In the day-time even, one often hears the familiar migratory note above given, without being able to see the birds. jOn looking carefully, however, one can see them flying very high, seeming scarcely more than dark specks against the sky. As these birds move southward, they receive different names according to their habits '^f diet. In Eastern THE YELLOW. WINGED SPAJtROW. 203 Pennsylvania, where they feed on the seeds of the reeds along the rivers, they are calle(^ Reed-birds, and in the south, where they feed on the rice, they are called Rice- birds. Wintering beyond our boundaries, this bird enters the Eastern United States in large numbers, and reaching the Middle States about the first of May, breeds from thence northward to the Saskatchawan, and west to the Rocky Mountains. To the eastward, Mr. Smith reports it as breed- ing abundantly in Maine ; Mr. Chamberlain gives it as a common summer resident u. New Brunswick, particularly in the valley of the St. John River, and I found it plentiful last June in the Annapolis Valley, Nova Scotia, but did not see it elsewhere in the Province. Mr. Maynard gives its summer habitat between 38" and 48**. Arriving in Western New York during the first week in May, it reaches Maine about the middle of that month, and New Brunswick about the last. On account of its short, thick bill, this bird was once called a Bunting, but its general structure places it among the Marsh Blackbirds or American Starlings; and as its white markings are similar to those of a Skunk, it has also been called the Skunk Blackbird. THE YELLOW- WINGED SPARROW. Perched on the fence by the roadside, in a neighborhood called Pine Hill, is the Yellow-winged Sparrow {Coturniculus passerinus). It is not at all common here, and seems confined to certain dry or sandy fields. Some 6.00 long, with wings much rounded and tail-feathers narrow and pointed, the plumage above is dark brown, almost black, edged with buff; head of the former color, with clear median line of the latter; this bird is distinguishable from all other Sparrows Wi !-Ml 294 THE YELLOW-WINGED SPARROW. of its size in this locality, by its clear buff breast and the bright yellow on the edge or shoulder of the wings. It has also a small line of the last mentioned color from the base of the bill over the eye. On the whole, it is a very light colored Sparrow. The fence is a rather high perch for this bird. It is gen- erally seen on the ground or swinging on a spear of grass. From some such lowly position it utters its humble song, which is a faint but prolonged squeak, so much resembling the shrilling of certain grasshoppers that an ordinary ear would scarcely detect the difference. On listening closely, however, and having identified the song, one will discover that it is generally preluded and ended with a faint war- ble. Unpretending as this song is, the singer is neverthe- less ambitious; for on hearing another of its species perform- ing near by, it will fly toward it, and, diving into the grass, soon put it to silence. The nest, which is on the ground, is built of dried grasses and lined with hair, and resembles those of the Ground- building Sparrows in general. The five eggs, some .76x.60 — large for the size of the bird — are pure white, specked and spotted with reddish-brown, mostly about the large end. They are laid early in June, the bird arriving in May. It probably leaves in September for the south. As a resident of Eastern North America, it is a southerly species, going scarcely beyond the United States; indeed, becoming rare already in the Northern States, while it is abundant to the south. Its food is that of its kind in general — insects and seeds. Henslow's Sparrow {Coturniculus henslowt) is a closely allied species. " Resembling the last; smaller; more yellow- ish above, and with sharp maxillary, pectoral and lateral black streaks below; tail longer, reaching beyond the feet; THE AMERICAN SWAN. 295 bill Stout." (Coues). Habitat: Eastern United States; local, not common. On a bright morning, on the 8th of May, I am on the shore of Lake Ontario, at the mouth of Johnson's Creek. The warm spring sun causes a soft white mist to rise from the whole surface of the lake, giving this grand sheet of water a most magnificent appearance — like that of bur- nished silver. From some distance out I can hear the clangor of the voices of immense numbers of Loons, or Great Northern Divers. The air is very salubrious, and being in good health, I am conscious of an unutterable joy in the contemplation of nature. Every breath is a soul- stimulus, and physical existence is blissful. But in such moments it is difficult to distinguish between that conscious- ness which is of the soul, and that which is of the body, so intimately do these two sources of the individual sense mix and blend together; and even the material forms around us have a spiritual ideal with which the mind may hold com- munion. THE AMERICAN SWAN. In the midst of my reverie my attention is arrested by the remains of a Swan {Cygnus americanus)^ which have floated upon the shore. Tufts of the fine plumage are still adher- ing, while many parts of the skeleton are entirely denuded by the effects of time and water. I pluck a handful of the snowy feathers from the disfigured form of this wonderful bird, which, by some means unknown, has perished in the course of its long migration. As I examine them I am re- minded how all warm-blooded animals require some cover- ing for the retention of animal heat. The ordinary mam- mal has a coat of hair, suited to climate, season, and the peculiar conditions of its habitat. The human race may M ilk! m S96 THE AMERICAN SWAN. choose its own clothing according to location and circum- stances. Birds are clad with feathers, an integument altogether peculiar to them as a class. Concerning these feathers, constituting what we call plumage, Paley, in his great work on Natural Theology, has well said: "The covering of birds cannot escape the most vulgar observa- tion. Its lightness, its smoothness, its warmth — the dis- position of the feathers, all inclined backward, the down about their stem, the overlapping of their tips, their different configuration in different parts, not to mention the variety of their colors, constitute a vest- ment for the body, so beautiful, and so appropriate to the life which the animal is to lead, that, I think, we should have had no conception of anything equally perfect, if we had never seen it, or can now imagine anything more so." Feathers are varied in adaptation to the different parts of the bird. There are the ordinary feathers for cov- ering called "clothing feathers," then others particularly modified for special uses — those over the opening of the ear are very light and open, and are called "auriculars;" those covering the junction of the wing with the body are called "scapulars;" those lying in several rows at the base of the quills on the outside of the wing, "coverts;" the large quill-feathers of the wing are called " remiges" or "rowing feathers;" of these again, the larger ones, arising from the hand bones, are called "primaries;" those on the lower or distal end of the ulna, or arm-bone, "secondaries;" those from the upper or proximal part of the same bone, " tertiaries," while the large steering-feathers of the tail are called "rectrices." Indeed, on every part of the body the feathers are peculiarly modified according to their location, and yet every feather is constructed essentially on the same plan. There L, first, the quill, entering THE AMERICAN SWAN. 297 the skin, and supporting the main part. It is of a tough, horny material, and cylindrical in form, thus combining strength and lightness; for in no form is a gpiven amount of matter so strong to support a weight or a strain as in that of a tube or cylinder; and, of course, that is also the form most favorable to levity. Next comes the shaft supporting the vanes. This is somewhat four sided, to accommodate the vanes, and gradually diminishes toward the extremity. It is usually bent, thus rendering the feather much stronger and more convenient for its ordinary uses; and it is also made more firm by a light pith. The flat barbs, constituting the vane, join each other at their broad sides, thus striking the air edgewise, and so opposing the utmost resistance, just as a plank will sustain a greater weight when set on edge than when lying flat. These barbs are also broadest where they join the shaft, and taper to a point at the outer edge of the vane. The broad sides of these barbs are supplied with barbuleSy little hooks, so arranged as to hook or latch into each other, and so form the barbs of the vane into a continuous and firm sheet. At the base of the vane is generally more or less down, accord- ing to the nature of the bird, certain swimming birds, such as Ducks and Geese, being noted for their down. Some of the feathers of such species are down throughout, and are called down-feathers; while all birds have more or less feathers simply in the form of hairs. These last are particularly troublesome in dressing the common fowl, and are most conveniently cleaned by singeing. Again, the feath- ers of certain birds have a peculiar style of structure. Those of the Grebe are very open and loose, and of a glossy finish, giving them somewhat the appearance of an elegant kind of fur. " In the Owls the plumage is loose and soft; fila- ments from the barbules extend upon the outer surface of 298 THE AMER!CAN SWAN. the vane, and one edge of the primaries is serrated; so that, while they are debarred from so swift a flight as the Hawk, they are enabled, by the same mechanism, to wing their way without noise, and steal unheard upon their prey." (Owen.) In the long pinions of the Hawk the vanes are joined together with a remarkable firmness. Who can ex- plain the peculiarity of that structure, which causes the in- imitable lustre on certain parts of several kinds of birds ? Thus, as the above named author says, " every feather is a mechanical wonder." No less remarkable is its history from its first appearance in the matrix till it reaches maturity. So perplexing is each stage of its development, that to read an account of it by the most lucid anatomist requires as close attention as the solution of an intricate problem in mathematics. And can anything exceed the varied beauty and brilliancy of the plumage of certain members of the leathered tribes? What is there in all the bright hues of nature which can equal the metallic tints on certain parts of the Humming Birds of the New World, or of the Sun Birds of both the Old World and the New? The partly denuded skeleton of this Swan also reminds me of the peculiar and varied osteology of the birds. A bird's skeleton is a true indication of the leading peculiari- ties of its structure and functions in this class of vertebrates. As the bird's position, whether on the ground, on the water, or in the air, is nearly horizontal, the trunk of the body is made firm by a consolidation of a great portion of the back- bone and ribs into a continued bony plane, and by the anchylosis, or joining together, of nearly all the dorsal ver- tebrae; and then it is well supported by the thigh bones being in a horizontal position, and thus balancing it; and by the long toes radiating in various directions. As the bird's neck must serve the purpose of an arm, and the bill that of THE AMERICAN SWAN. 299 a hand, the former is very long, and flexible in various direc- tions, reaching its greatest length in the CygnuSy or Swaa genus, and the latter is variously and most skillfully mod- eled according to the habit of the bird, but always having cutting edges of a horny substance. Flight, as the principal characteristic of the class, is well anticipated by the great extent and peculiar form of the breast-bone or sternum, to which so many of the muscles of flight are attached, which has its surface augmented by a broad keel, and of which the ossification is more or less complete, according to the pow- ers of flight possessed by the bird. Notwithstanding the great pressure of the wings of the flying bird upon the shoulders, these last are kept a proper distance apart by a system of bones formed into a sort of double arch, well braced forward and backward. The ribs again are remark- ably strengthened by a line of flat, bony processes, extend- ing from one to the other, like purlines joined into the raft- ers of a building. All the bones are especially laminated and firm, and at the same time contain, for the most part,, air cavities, to secure their greater levity. Nor is the muscular system any less remarkable in its adaptation to the peculiar functions of the bird ; some of the muscles, extending from the trunk of the body to the tips of the toes, being so arranged that the bird clings to its perch without any voluntary effort during its unconscious hours of sleep, and may thus support itself even on one foot. " In birds of flight the mechanical disposition of the muscular system is admirably adapted to the aerial locomo- tion of this class; the principal masses being collected below the center of gravity, beneath the sternum, beneath the pelvis, and upon the thighs, they act like the ballast of a vessel, and assist in maintaining the steadiness of the body during flight; while at the same time the extremities require only Hi 300 THE AMERICAN SWAN. long, thin tendons for the communication of the mus< cular influence to them, and are thereby rendered light and slender." (Owen.) Is there anything in all this arrange- ment of bone and muscle which indicates intelligent design ? Is there any thought back of it all ? Or is it simply the result of blind forces residing in matter ? Over the wide world the Swan is the most graceful and majestic bird of the waters. Strongly resembling the Goose, it is differentiated by its greater elegance, which comes in part from its long, slender and graceful neck, and in part from its large and elaborate wings, as well as from its more dignified proportions and bearing in general. Its bill is noticeably larger than that of the Goose, in proportion to its head, and the base of it extends to the eye. The fabled song of the Swan as death approaches, though decidedly beautiful, has no foundation in fact. While it has some very boisterous notes, and a peculiar folding of the wind- pipe and connection of it with the breast-bone and merry thought, for the purpose of securing these stentorious effects, its ordinary reticence, so strongly contrasting with the " noisy gabbling of Geese and Duck," adds greatly to its wonted dignity. Indeed, the structure of its vocal organs is in no wise favorable to any musical capacity. To see this pure, snow-white creature in all the ease, elegance and dignity of his wild and retired haunts is the privilege of but few; but he may, be seen domesticated, and thus seeming perfectly at home on the glassy ponds of our public or even private parks. His great wings, so gracefully ruffled and partly elevated, make him look almost ethereal as he floats along with the slow and easy strokes of his large, black feet, and they also serve as a sort of sail to catch the passing breeze. Frequently one foot is held up out of the water and spread apart, as if it, too, were used to catch THE AMERICAN SWAN, 301 the wind. What can equal the gracefulness of that long slender, curving neck, as the head moves slowly in every conceivable direction ! Every movement of a Swan is par- ticularly slow and stately. It is a living miniature of a ship. But that peculiar motion with which, having dipped his head in the water, he throws a shower of large drops, like so many pearls, over his ruffled and snow-white plumage^ affords the supreme moment when his beauty culminates. Such scenes give one a conception of the sweet content God has designed for all His creatures in the mere conscious- ness of existence. Those poets sing best of human life who, passing by its feverish excitements and undue ambi- tions, find a chief good in the quiet, virtuous and sweet sense of simple being. That was a true philosopher who prized the comfort of sunshine above the highest gifts of kings. We have two species of Swan on this continent — the Whistling or American Swan, and the Trumpeter. The former {Cygnus americanus)^ some 53 inches long and about 84 in extent of wings, is occasionally seen in flocks passing over our Great Lakes, or along the Niagara River, in their times of migration. On St. Clair Flats they are sometimes seen in great numbers. They fly high and in lines and an- gles, after the manner of Wild Geese, except that they are generally silent, and have a shorter and more graceful stroke of the wings. Very inspiring to the love of the beautiful are their large snow-white forms, with outstretched neck and black bill, as they glide along the clear ether of a brigh t morning in early spring or late autumn, their lines, curves, and angles being formed with mathematical precision. Many of them spend the winter on the Chesapeake and Del- aware rivers, where they are captured in large numbers for the market. It is also said to be abundant along the Pacific 1 m 302 THE LOON. Coast in winter. In New England it is rare, and it is not abundant in the region of the Mississippi. The arctic regions are its breeding ground. It breeds commonly in the marshes along the Yukon River, especially in the great marshes at its mouth. The eggs, from 2-6, " nearly ellipsoidal," some 4.00 X 2.00, with a rather rough shell, are white or dirty- white, and are laid in May, " usually in a tussock quite sur- rounded with water." The Trumpeter Swan {Cygnus buccinator) differs from the former in its greater size, being some 68 inches in length, by its longer and wholly black bill, and more basilar nostrils, by its 24 tail feathers (C americanus has a yellow -spot on the bill and only 20 tail feathers), and by its harsher voice. Reaching the gulf coast in winter, the Trumpeter seems to range along the great Mississippi Valley, breeding from Iowa and Dakota to the arctics, its breeding habits being similar to those of its American congener. It is but a straggler on the Atlantic Coast, and is not numerous south- ward on the Pacific. The young of Swans are at first gray, and passing through various shades of reddish do not become pure white until about 5 or 6 years old; and it takes about as many years for them to reach their full size, the young scarcely exceeding one-third of that of the mature bird at the end of the first year. Australia has a Black Swan, and South America one with a black head and neck. THE LOON. About the middle of the day, when the mist on the lake has somewhat cleared away, I discern some half-dozen dark spots, several miles out; and turning the glass upon them, I discover them to be Loons, or Great Northern THE LOON, 803 Divers {Coiymbus torquatus). How finely they swim, stretch- ing their large, black feet out behind them, even above the water, sometimes, the wavelets stirring at their sides and in their wake, being a miniature of those formed by a sailing craft. Now they are moving in line, one after the other; and again the line is broken by the sudden diving of one or more; or for a time they all disappear in the same man- ner. Then rising again, one after another, they shake their heads and look about them in every direction, as if keep- ing up the utmost vigilance; or one flaps his wings, and thus ' ising out of the water, and patting it with his feet as if running on its surface for some distance, drops into it again, cutting the glassy surface into a foam with his snowy breast. If one would ^tudy birds without disturbing them, and know how they behave when they are perfectly at home, one must view them thus in the distance, with the aid of a good glass. The first impulse on a sight like this is to board one's boat and row toward the flock for a shot; but that would be about useless in the case of the Loon, for he dives at the flash of the gun ere shot or bullet can reach him. To shoot a Loon is possible, but it is one of the rarest feats in marksmanship. The name — Great Northern Diver — is most appropriate to him. The summer haunts of this bird are in the north, where, on lakes and streams, his large, flat body, his long, slender-pointed black bill, his large head and long, thick neck of jet-black, with hues of violet and green and patches streaked with white, his jet-black upper parts elegantly spotted with white, and his snow-white breast — are among the most familiar objects. Of his great expertness in diving and swimming, for which his peculiar structure — especially the posterior position of his great webbed feet and his sharply compressed legs — so well 304 . THE LOON. adapts him, he seems well aware; for he is in no hurry to fly as one approaches him on the water. Excepting the Grebe, no bird of our waters will allow one to come so near to him. Plunging out of sight in an instant, if one presses him too closely, and literally flying under the water, he will presently come up and shake the water out of his eyes many rods distant, swimming so deeply that his back is nearly under water; and, before one can get within gun- shot, he plunges out of sight again. If he undertakes to rise out of the water, it seems to be with some difficulty. Striking the air vigorously with his powerful wings, and patting the water with his feet, he appears half-running and half-flying, for several rods, before mounting fully into the air, and if the wind be blowing he rises against it, thus "eking out the resisting power of his small wings;" but once elevated, he moves with immense momentum and velocity, with outstretched neck, and feet extended back- ward, after the manner of a huge Duck. To make up for the small area of his wing-surface, he beats the air with a rapidity that cannot be counted; and like other swimming birds with very small wings for their size, and like all diving birds whose wings are always reduced to a minimum, he can make no sudden turns, nor perform any aerial evolu- tions, nor alight suddenly and gracefully, but pitches into the water with a splash and foam. Nor does he generally need any of these facilities on wing. He may choose broad rivers, immense lakes, or even the ocean foi his highway, and so have no obstructions in his course. Moreover, like other mortals, he cannot expect to have every advantage. If in structure and function he is the very ideal of dex- terity in the water, he cannot expect to vie with the Swift in the regions of the air. The name Loon, or Loom, is said to be of Lapland ori- THE LOON, 306 gin, and to have come from a word signifying lame, because the bird is unable to walk regularly. One caught in a seine, and brought to me in excellent condition, without any injury whatever, was wholly unable to rise from the ground, and could barely shuffle along a few feet, aiding itself with the shoulders of its wings. Its position in standing is nearly upright, after the manner of the Grebes; otherwise it cannot maintain the center of gravity on account of the posterior location of its legs. If perchance the Loon alights on land, away from the water, it cannot rise again. Every now and then during their migrations, one is found in this situation, and may then be picked up and carried off without any difficulty whatever. As one might expect under these circumstances, the Loon's nest, which is a rude structure of rushes, is hard by the water, on an island, or on the shore of the main land, gen- erally on the edge of a little island in a lake. The eggs, 2 or 3, some 3.25 x 2.15, long and pointed, are brown or greenish- brown, sparsely spotted all over with dark brown. The Loon breeds on St. Clair Flats in considerable num- bers, the nest being built up from the bottom, of rushes and sedges, extending some eight or ten inches above the sur- face, and containing a dry depression to receive the eggs. V<'ry possibly these nests are all deserted muskrat-houses. I could not fully determine. The notes of this bird, being most frequent before a storm, are remarkable. Beginning on the fifth note of the scale, the voice slides through the eighth to the third of the scale above, in loud, clear, sonorous tones, which, on a dismal evening before a thunder storm, the lightning already playing along the inky sky, are anything but musical. He has also another rather soft and pleasing utterance, sounding like who-who-who-who, the syllable;, being so rapidly pronounced 20 ",1 % m % ' ■ 1 il'i M 806 THE LOON, as to sound almost like a shake of the voice — a sort of weird laughter. Though ger orally dispersed over the United States in winter, the Great Northern Diver breeds, for the most part, beyond our limits, except in mountainous regions, rearing their precocious young, even up to 70°. The length of this species is 2^-3 feet. Its food is mostly small fishes. The Red-throated Diver {Colymbus septentrionalis)^ with habits and habitat similar to the former, is much smaller, 26 inches long and 43 in extent of wing; and it differs no- ticeably in color. It is " blackish; below, white, dark along the sides and on the vent and crissum; most of the head and fore-neck, bluish-gray, the throat with a large chestnut patch, hind neck sharply streaked with white on a blackish ground; bill black. The young have not these marks on the head and neck, but a profusion of small, sharp, circular or oval white spots on the back." This species is said to be abundant on the Bay of Fundy. Another species called the Black-throated Diver is found to the northwest of our continent. These Loons are also the Loons of the Old World, the birds having a circumpolar distribution. They are closely allied to the Grebes, differing from them, as to structure, principally in their completely webbed feet. The peculiarities of the skel'^ton of a Loon, including the greatly prolonged breast-bone, the long, narrow pelvic bone with its elevated ridge, to receive the great muscles of the leg used in swimming, and the greatly prolonged process at the knee-joint, to strengthen the leg as the bird kicks up to- ward the surface of the water in the act of diving, deserve the special attention of the ornithologist and anatomist. CHAPTER XIV. THE TENTH AND ELEVENTH OF MAY. 1AM in the forest on a beautiful morning, the 10th of May; and never in the round year are the charms of our woodland scenery greater than at this very hour. The leaves are already well unfolded, for the spring is early; and the many wild flowers, peculiar to the time of year in this locality, are in full bloom. Liverworts, spring-beauties and marsh-marigolds are past their prime, indeed; but the cresses, the toothworts, the fumitories, the addertongues, the violets, and above all the trillium, are now in the very height of their glory; while the mitreworts and the many varieties of Solomon's-seal are just beginning to display their delicate beauties. The whole woods is one immense flower-garden. Oh, the fragrance of this delightful morn- ing air! Involuntarily one takes long, deep breaths, as if the very act of respiration were a luxury. t , THE WOOD THRUSH. But most delightful of all, as the sun leaps above the horizon, is the mingled chorus of the birds. The Wood Thrush {Tardus mustelinus) arrived some time during the night, and is giving us his first song. To me it is an even ' of the season. Nothing in all our bird melody equals 't! Such is its sweetness and copious variety that I shall not attempt to render it in syllables. It must suffice to say that 1 lift ■m 4.t •;ll' 308 THE WOOD THRUSH. the tones are flute-like, if indeed they can be compared to any instrument; a variety of brief tinkles, trills, triplets and warbles, on main chords, intermediates and chromatics, fol- lowing each other in close but rather slow succession, in every possible key, cadence and inflection, with a peculiar shake on a low key every now and then thrown in; the whole suggesting the idea of a solemn but happy and tender train of meditation; the bird sings as if in a delightful reverie. From the time of his arrival till late in June, or even in July, his peculiar melody may be heard at almost any time of day, but especially early in the morning and late in the evening. Never shall I forget how, once at the dawn of day, as I lay in my hammock high up under the thick shade of two great forest trees, the notes of the Wood Thrush were the first to break the stillness of the receding night. Faintly, but oh! how sweetly, they broke upon the air in the tree-top just above me. Louder and louder were the liquid strains, until the silent isles of the thick forest echoed to their delightful cadences, and all the songsters in the vicinity woke up and gave forth their united response. Nothing is more characteristic of our beautiful forests, at the close of day, than the melody of this great woodland artist — this Beethoven among birds. Not peculiar to the streams and wet places merely, as implied by both Wilson and Audubon, but exceedingly common as a summer resident throughout the woods, the Wood Thrush builds his nest in this locality late in May or early in June, in the crotch of a sappling, or on the horizon- tal limb of a large tree, anywhere from 7 to 16 feet from the ground. The structure, strongly resembling that of the Robin, consists outwardly of dried leaves, coarse weed- stilks, grasses, rootlets, etc., plastered together with mud, and lined with rootlets for the most part, the lining often WILSON'S THRUSH. 809 being quite scanty. The eggs, 3 or 4, some 1.00 x -^S, in form and color are like those of the Robin. When the nest of this species is disturbed or even approached, it has an animated twitter, almost as character- istic as its song, also a soft chuck. I do not find this bird particularly shy, as compared with other birds of the woods. Like other Thrushes, it is often on the ground, not infre- quently utters its song from a log or stump, and seldom alights above the lower story of the woods. Berries and insects constitute its fare. Its flight is regular, and not very rapid. » About 8 inches long, the upper parts are bright brown, reddish on the head, dusky on the rump and tail, eye-lids white, ear-patches dark brown and white striped, under- parts white, breast creamy, the dark-brown arrow-shaped spots being quite large and running in chains. The males and females are alike, after the manner of the Thrushes. Migrating to New £ngland early in May, very rare in southwestern Maine, it extends further north into Canada West. I found it common about Manitoulin Island, and heard its song in the Lacloche Mountains. Early in autumn it leaves us for its winter home in Central America. Audu- bon reported a few on the gulf coast in winter, but Mr. Maynard did not find it in Florida. Wilson's thrush. From a thicket of undergrowth near by there comes a loud quel ulous note, which may be spelled as chree-u. I rec- ognize it at once as the alarm note of Wilson's Thrush {Turdus fuscescens)f a very common summer resident of this locality, arriving early in May and leaving early in September. There, he has alighted on a large stump within two rods of me, and in full view. Some 7.00 long, or more, he is rather .1 810 WILSON'S THRUSH, slender, reddish-brown above, pure white underneath, the throat and upper breast dark cream, streaked with small, obscure, arrow-shaped brown spots. His general lightness of color, especially his obscure spots on the breast, always differentiates him from all other Thrushes. About the last of May or early in June, when nidification begins, he becomes a most delightful songster. Then, if you would hear him to the best advantage, go to some low ground or swamp- localities in which these birds are most numerous — between sunset and dark, when sky and clouds put on their most gor- geous hues, and all nature is sinking into silence. The mere notes of the song are very simple, and, to my ear, sound some- thing like the syllables, whree-Uy whree-Uy whree-u, whree-Uy uttered in a somewhat slow and strictly formal manner, and often so softly that you imagine the bird, which is close by, to be quite a distance off; but the /t'/i^x may have a marvelous vibration, sweet, pathetic, and grand beyond comparison, as " the sounding isles of the dim woods " return the softened echoes. The tones, taken singly, I think are the sweetest I ever heard, and can be compared to nothing else which ever falls upon the ear. Each tone is one of many keys, all in sweet attune, a chord of many different musical threads, vibrating sweetly, and causing the atmosphere to respond as if it were itself entranced. As is the case with other birds, several in the same vicinity, will answer each other, one delivering his strain in a little higher tone than another, and again falling a little below him, the effect of which is very fine to a musical ear. Tranquility is the very essence and expression of this de- lightful song. No sound in the whole domain of nature could more perfectly compose the mind. Pitch your tent v/bere this bird is, and let him put you to sleep at night and wake you up in the morning. WILSON'S THRUSH. 311 This species is often called the " Veery," probably from some fancied resemblance of the word to the notes of his song. That resemblance to my ear, however, is the slight- est possible. The name is simply a degrading epithet. In accordance with its terrestrial habits in general, Tur- dus fuscescens builds its nest on or near the ground, often on a little bunch of dried brush and leaves, or on the side of a knoll, generally where a small opening in the tall trees lets in the genial rays of the sun. It is rather a rude structure, sometimes frail, sometimes bulky, the foundation being of dried and skeleton leaves mixed with straw, weed-stalks, sticks, or coarse shreds of bark from the wild grape-vine; the lining being of skeleton leaves and very fine rootlets, perhaps a few pine-needles or dried grasses. The structure is quite unique, and from its location can scarcely be mis- taken. The eggs, generally 4, some .80 x .60, are light bluish-green, and decidedly pretty. Though generally a shy and sly bird, it will sometimes become quite confidential. Strolling through the woods some time ago I happened on a nest of callow young. The mother sat closely. Almost within arm's reach of the nest, I watched her for several minutes, she looking at me also with an indescribable expression in her large brown eyes. As she left the nest, finally, I noticed that, being six inches or so from the ground, and rather poorly supported, it was very much tilted on one side, thus endangering the safety of the young. I righted it up, shoved a handful of dried leaves under it to make it firm, and passed on. A few hours later I returned, happening to pass the very same spot, when lo! the bird had become so tame, and looked at me seemingly with such an expression of gratitude and confidence, that the nearest proximity to the nest did not appear to disturb her 1:fi ■ \ 1 J ''' '\\ 312 THE GOLDEN-CROWNED ACCENTOR. Wintering in Florida and the gulf states, Wilson's Thrush breeds from Southern New England and the Middle States to Hudson's Bay, and westward to the Rocky Mountains. It is abundant in Western New York in sum- mer. I did not find it common in Nova Scotia. THE GOLDEN-CROWNED ACCENTOR. Ke-chee^ ke-cheiy ke-chee, ke-chee, ke-chee, comes the familiar ditty of the Golden-crowned Accentor {Seiurus aurocapillus) for the first time in the year. The notes begin so softly that you might imagine the bird to be some distance away, but as they continue louder and louder, the last one, which is quite loud and shrill, discovers the ventriloquist to be near by. Perched on a lower limb, near the trunk of the tree, he sits motionless as a statue, except when he throws his head up to utter his notes. Then he shakes himself from bill to tail, and by the time he reaches the last note, seems to be exercising every muscle. Occasionally between his chants he steps back and forth on the limb and jerks his tail after the manner of his near relative, the Water Thrush. The general effect of his performance is greatly enhanced by the echo so peculiar to the forest when in full foliage; and throughout the sum- mer it is one of the characteristic sounds of our charming woodlands, always to be associated with their coolness and fragrance. Excepting the sharp metallic chip, which he gives as he walks in his pretty lark-like manner on the ground in time of nidification, the above describes what was formerly supposed to be the full extent of his musical capacity; but Mr. Burroughs discovered, some years since, that he has a fine warble. He says: "Mounting by easy flights to the top of the tallest tree, he launches into the air with a sort THE GOLDEN-CROIVNED ACCENTOR. 313 of suspended, hovering flight, like certain of the Finches, and bursts into a perfect ecstasy of song— -clear, ringing, copious, rivaling the Goldfinches in vivacity, and the Lin- nets in melody. This strain is one of the rarest bits of bird melody to be heard, and is oftenest indulged in late in the afternoon or after sundown." Since Mr. B.'s discovery others have identified this extra song. I hear it to fine advantage in the night when the bird begins with its ordi- nary and well-known chant, and ends in a prolonged and beautiful warble, the effect of which, on the stillness of night in the forest, is peculiarly pleasing. Some 6.00-6.60 long, greenish-olive above, with a yellow crown margined with black, white underneath, the breast and sides streaked with large arrow-shaped spots of black. Golden-crown has the marking of the Thrushes, among which he was formerly classed; but in structure he is a Warbler; in size he is about half-way between these two great families; in manner, especially when on the ground, he resembles the Wagtails. He is a bird of the ground, often busy among the rustling leaves scratching for food, and he is a dainty walker, seldom leaving the ground, ex- cept for some musical performance. In accordance with this general habit, his nest, found in almost any part of the woods or swamp, is on the ground — a peculiar structure, roofed over, and having an entrance on the side, bearing such a striking resemblance in miniature to the old-fashioned out-door oven, that the builder has been christened the "Oven-bird." Frequently the nest is truly "a thing of beauty." Composed of dried leaves and grasses, sometimes intermixed with shreds of bark and fine twigs, or ornamented with mosses, thickly arched with skeleton-leaves, or feathery tops of the finer grasses — it looks almost ethereal. Not infrequently, however, the nest is 1 ii V'- i m 314 YELLOW-BACKED BLUE WARBLER. plainer, containing a moderate amount of material, and that of the coarser sort, slightly arched with the plain culms of dried glasses, or with pine needles. The eggs, 4 or 6, about .'78 X .60, and therefore unusually roundish, are white as porcelain, finely specked and spotted with red, brown and lilac, mostly around the larger end, often in a wreath, and are real objects of beauty in the nest so smoothly lined with skeleton-leaves and horse-hairs. They resemble those of the Warblers, too, and not the strongly-marked, bluish- green eggs of the Thrushes. Wintering in the extreme Southern States, Mexico, Cen- tral America, and the West India Islands, its breeding hab- itat extends even to the arctic regions, whence it returns in the early autumn. YELLOW-BACKED BLUE WARBLER. Next thing to shooting bumble-bees is the bringing down our smaller Warblers from the tallest tree-tops. So I feel, as from the highest branches of a great elm, I pick out a Yellow-backed Blue Warbler {Parula americana)^ the smallest of the family. Only 4.50 long, the upper parts are a delicate blue, slightly tinged with ash, with a bronze- yellow patch on the back; throat and breast yellow, with a collar of black and bronze, often more or less mixed, across the upper breast; under parts, wing-cdverts, and spots in outer tail-feathers, white. Though it is by no means brill- iant, I admire it for its plain and modest beauty. There is something retired and elevated, too, in its manner. Its path is, for the most part, in the very tops of the beeches and maples on uplands and hills. Seldom, indeed, is its nest less than 20 feet from the ground. Often it is much higher. Hopping or flitting from point to point, hanging by the feet, or peering quaintly among the leaves, all its THE KINGBIRD. 81ff movements are most sprightly and graceful. Its nest is built wholly of what appears to be a light-green hanging moss, but it is in reality a lichen (usnga), common to many trees of the north. The form is sometimes globular, with an entrance on the side, sometimes open at the top, and appearing like a common bunch of the material, in its native position on the tree. It is unlike the nest of any other bird, and exceedingly difficult to find. The eggs, often not more than 3, and laid early in June, are some .65 x '60, white, specke. and spotted with reddish-brown and lilac, particu- larly around the large end. Parula*s song is by no means as interesting as its nest. Though chiming in well with the many voices of spring, considered apart, it is scarcely more than a prolonged and pleasing squeak. Breeding in the Southern and Middle States, Parula americana becomes more common in New England, and extends to Nova Scotia, and west to the Missouri. Southern Florida is its northernmost abode in winter. THE KINGBIRD. As I return home across the fields I observe a pair of Kingbirds {Tyrannus carolinensis) perched on a fence and uttering a series of notes, tsip-tsip-tsip-tseep-tseep^ tsi-tsi-tsee,tsi' tsi-tsee^ tsi-tsi, tsee-tsee^ the whole being so modulated as to sound more like a song than anything I ever heard from this bird before. Eight inches long, blackish-gray above, wings and tail nearly black, under parts and edge of the tail white, a flame-colored spot under the tips of the feathers on the crown, the male a little darker than the female — this bird is almost as well known as the Robin or Bluebird. Most noticeable of all are his pugnacious habits. Occupying some low perch in the garden or orchard, or alighted on the fence by the meadow, pasture or roadside, his big head I M ■15 \ ■ 316 THE KINGBIRD, looking bigger than it really is, because of its erected feath> ers, his whole mood sullen and querulous, his sharp screeping note coughed out and accompanied by a jerk of the tail, he does not possess one single trait of amiability; but, like some ill-natured braggart, seems always on the watch for a chance to fight. Whether the passer-by be a Buzzard a Crow, or the tiniest Sparrow, at once he intercepts his track and in- sults him in the most wanton manner. Slow and tremulous as his flight seems to be, he keeps tolerably close chase with almost anything. Whether those saucy thrusts, as he lets himself down on the back of that soaring Red-tailed Hawk, are painful or not, they are certainly very annoying, as the vexed evolutions of the dignified bird clearly show. Again and again the little sauce-box dashes himself against him, while the Buzzard tips and veers, threatening his insignifi- cant tormentor with beak and claw, and making off with as little show of disconcertion as possible. He scarcely rids himself of the nuisance, however, even at a great height in the air. All the smaller birds in the neighborhood bear with his attacks as a matter of course, and get out of his way with all speed. Arriving the first week in May, the orchard is his favorite resort. Here his note, sometimes uttered singly, often twice in succession, is one of the most familiar and constant sounds. Perched on some branch or part of the fence, after the manner of the Flycatchers in general, he waits for his insect prey, which he L>naps up on the wing with a sharp click of the bill as he cuts short circles in the air, sometimes hovering beautifully to reconnoiter, or take his pick from a flock of gnats. Occasionally he may snap up a bee from the hive, but for this small trespass his exten- sive destruction of noxious insects abundantly compensates. The Kingbird's nest is on some horizontal limb of a tree in the orchard or open field, not very far from the ground. THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW, 317 It is composed early in June of dried weeds, small sticks and roots, bits of moss, leaves, down, and especially wool, lined with fine rootlets and some horse-hair. The eggs, 4 or 6, averaging some 1.00 X .76, are creamy- white, spotted and blotched with brown and lilac in such a manner as to make them always distinguishable. Late in August these birds may be seen in families, and by September they leave for the south, wintering in the most Southern States, and southward even to Peru, whence they return throughout North America, breeding in their entire range as far as 57". The Gray Kingbird {Tyrannus dominicemis) of Florida and the extreme Southern States is 9.00-9.60 long, with the tail slightly forked; brownish-slate or ash above, darker on the head, and auriculars dusky; white below, shading into ash on the breast and sides; under coverts and edgings of the dusky wings and tail, yellowish. Its habits are similar to those of the former, but it is more noisy. It is merely acci- dental in the north. The elegant Swallow-tailed Flycatcher {Milvulus forficatus) of the southwest barely reaches the lower Mississippi. THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. In the latter part of the afternoon of this same tenth of May, as I ride by a large orchard belonging to one of my parishioners, I am delighted with a whole chorus of White- crowned Sparrows (Z((7«<7/r?V^/a leucophrys)^ making melody in the blooming branches. The song is quite peculiar, whee-who-who-zee-zee-zee, the first three notes in a clear whis- tle, and the last three in a sort of jew's-harp tone, the whole being decidedly pleasing, and not at all like that of the White-throat. Appearing already in the latter part of April, they are very common along the fences, hedges and ii i 318 THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW, orchards in migration at this time of year; but they do not always sing. Sometimes a few will linger on the same spot, singing more or less for a number of days, but one does not often meet such a full chorus of them. THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. This is one of the largest and certainly the most beautiful of all our Sparrows. Seven inches long; crown clear white, with jet-black on each side and white line over the eye; upper parts a beautiful ash and brown;' wing-bars white; neck and under parts light ash, becoming white on the vent and lii^lit-brown on t"ie flanks; bill and feet dark cinnamon. The male and female are alike. The White-crown has a habit of standing pretty well erect, with the feathers of the entire crown raised, thus looking exceedingly jaunty; while all his colors, of chaste, rich tints, finely harmonized, set him out to the best advantage. Wintering in the Southern States, the White-crowned Sparrows go far north to breed, Newfoundland and Labra- THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW. 319 dor being the principal resorts to the eastward, while in the mountainous regions westward they breed as far south as Colorado. Fred. Boshart, however, the young ornithologist of Lowville, N. Y., found a nest July Yth, 1877, in Denmark, Lewis County, N. Y. In a very rough place of logs and windfalls, it was placed about five inches above ground, thus differing from its ordinary location. It contained one Audubon describes a nest found in Labrador, and in all respects representative, as follows: " The nest was placed in the moss, near the foot of a low fir, and was formed exter- nally of beautiful dry green moss, matted in bunches like the coarse hair of some quadruped, internally of very fine dry grass, arranged, with great neatness to the thickness of nearly half an inch, with a full lining of delicate fibrous roots of a rich transparent yellow. * * * The eggs, five in number, average yk of an inch in length, are proportion- ately broad, of a light sea-green color, mottled toward the larger end with brownish spots and blotches, a few spots of a lighter tint being dispersed over the whole." He found the nests numerous in that locality, as also did Dr. Coues. The former gives June as their breeding time. He also says: "The food of this species, while in Labrador, consists of small coleopterous insects, grass-seeds, and a variety of berries, as well as some minute shell- 'sh, for which they frequently search the margins of pon *c >r the sea-shore." By the first of October the White-crow^n begins to pass this point on its way south, and is quite common for several weeks. THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW. As I continue my ride, passing a thicket near a large block of woods, I meet a company of some half-dozen White-throated Sparrows {Zmotrichia albicollis) leisurely III . . 1 i 320 THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW, i r gathering food among the brush and bushes. They may be found here as a common migrant from the last week in April till after the middle of May, following thickets, brier patches, and swampy places; and again in September and THB WKITB-THROATBD SPARROW October, or even later. Somewhat shy, slow, and dignified in their movements, uttering a soft and somewhat prolonged tseep^ they are not very noticeable except to the ornitholo- gist. In the autumn I have heard them utter a sharp pimpy sounding a little like the spirited alarm of the Robin. Sel- dom indeed do they favor lis with their song as birds of passage. I have heard it, however, from some solitary male perched on a stub in a thicket on a beautiful May morning. In their breeding haunts, which are from Northern New England far to the northward, their very pleasing melody is quite common. In Great Manitoulin Island and vicinity, where I found these birds abundant in the breeding season, it is one of the earliest, the commonest, and certainly the most impressive of bird-songs to be heard. Thoreau in the North Woods THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW, 821 of Maine, and Burroughs in the great forests north of Quebec, found this Sparrow in great numbers; and it is found equally ccmmon in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. The notation of its song could be easily written on the musical staff. Beginning generally on the fifth note of the scale, after the first syllable, it ascends to the eighth or last note, and ends in four syllables more. After the first syllable of the song the bird will sometimes utter the second on the second or third note of the scale above, and then dropping back will render the remaining three sylla- bles on the usual pitch for the ending. I have heard it begin on the last note of the scale, and after sounding two syllables, drop to the sixth interval for the remaining three syllables, thus giving a beautiful minor effect. If several are singing after the first-named or ordinary manner, they may each perform on a different key, one responding to the other from different dead trees or tall stubs in the neighbor- hood. The charm of the song is principally in the pathos of the tones, which resemble those of the song proper of the Chickadee, being an inimitably tender and vibrating or tremulous whistle. There are few bird-songs which are so affecting to an aesthetic nature as is this simple pastoral. The tenderest and most sympathetic ideas, with a tinge of melancholy, find their expression in these strongly charac- terized notes, which, as Thoreau says, "are as distinct to the ear as the passage of a spark of fire shot into the dark- est of the forest would be to the eye." All such representa- tions of this song, as ^'' pea-body ^ pe-a-body^ pe-a-body" or, "a// day whittling, ivhittling, whitling" or, " ah! te-te-te-te-te-te-te-te- te'* are mere caricatures, furnishing at best but a rude suggestion of its plaintive, tender melodiousness. To introduce this bird more fully, his length is 6.00; crown black, witl< line cf white through the center; lines 21 — ■-aiiawi ■ 1 "'mm "-''.' \ 4 III! 1 K ■ 1 ' J i : J 822 THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. over the eyes; bright yexlow from the base of the bill to the eye, then white to the neck; upper parts, reddish-brown and blackish-brown, intermixed with streaks of whitish; wing-bars, white; cheeks, dark-ash; throat, white; under parts, whitish-ash; female and immature male, with the bright he^d-markings quite obscure. The male, in perfect plumage, is decidedly beautiful; by some he is regarded as the most beautiful of all the Sparrows. The nest, on '!'e ground, in busliy fields, is of dried grass, weeds and . „ lined with rootlets or fine grasses. The eggs, 4 or 5, sou a ' ■ y.62, are grayish-white, spotted and splashed with brown and paler markings. The White- throat winters throughout the Southern States. THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. The most prominent physical feature just south of Lake Ontario is the Ridge, a graceful elevation of sandy soil sup- posed to have been once either the shore of the lake, or an immense sand-bar. The highway, which follows its great- est elevation, and is broad enough to admit several teams abreast, was once the grand thoroughfare from Buffalo to Albany. Now the northern branch of the New York Cen- tral Railroad and the Erie Canal just south of it have broken up the great line of stage coaches, and greatly decreased the immense processions of farm wagons loaded with prod- uce, and the crowds of light-hearted travelers on pleasure and visiting excursions. Thus the great Broadway of the region round about has been almost cleared of its enter- prise. The distilleries and hotels are deserted, and the towns either have ceased to grow or are in a state of decline. But the beautiful highway, almost equall)' good at any time of year, is still the same. Spring comes here days — almost weeks — in advance, and the mildness of autumn lingers with THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. 828 retarded pace. Hence people prefer to live here, and in our county (Orleans) the Ridge is almost a continuous village. In the woods and thickets on the low ground just north of the Ridge, where once the waters of the lake rolled, is our best locality for the summer birds, especially the Warblers. The 11th of May, ISTQ, was one of the loveliest spring days we have ever seen. The leaves were out, the sky was clear, the sun warm, and the very air ieemed palpitating with life. My friend F and I were skirting the woods north of the Ridge. O, what a day it was for Warblers! They were pass- ing to the north in one continuous troop. Most abundant of all on that day were the Blackburnians {Dendroeca black- burnici)^ the most brilliant of the family. We can find some of them every spring in this locality, but they are not always numerous. The male is black above, with a white streak on each shoulder, also several similar streaks along the lower part of the back and rump, the large wing-spots, and base and greater part of the outer tail-feathers, white ; spot along the crown, streak from the base of the bill above the eye to the back of the head, thence bending forward in a broad band along the sides of the neck, and the lower eye-lid orange yellow, throat and upper part of breast fiery orange, fading into white; underneath the small spot on the side of the neck and the streaks along the sides, black. The markings of the female are similar to those of the male, except that all the colors are lighter, the orange on the throat fading into a delicate yellow. In its very graceful movements this little bird keeps en- tirely to the trees, and not generally very high up, fiitting from point to point in search of its hidden insect food, and emitting a loud, pleasing warble. It is mostly a bird of the upland, and quite fond of evergreens — a lovely sylvan orna- 324 THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. ment, strikingly in harmony with this gala-day of spring. As is the case with most of our brilliant birds, the male re- quires several years to acquire his richest tints, hence Wil- son and Audubon described the male of the second year as a separate species, called the Hemlock Warbler, and Bona- parte even distinguished it as of a different genus. Wintering in Mexico and Central America, this Warbler migrates through Eastern North America generally, being seen by Audubon in the Magdalen Islands, Newfoundland and Labrador. Beginning to breed sparingly in the Middle States and Southern New England, its principal breeding range would Sce. u to be to the northward. It is not uncom- mon in the "breeding season in Maine. President MacCul- loch, of Halifa-.:, M. G., favored Audubon with the nest of this species, but regarded the bird as rare in that province. This must be true, as my correspondent, Mr. Andrew Downes of Halifax, an experienced ornithologist, does not report it. Audubon describes the above nest as follows: "It was composed externally of different textures, and lined with silky fibers and then delicate strips of fine bark, over which lay a thick bed of feathers and horse-hair. The eggs were small, very conical towards the smaller end, pure white, with a few spots of light-red towards the larger end. It was found in a small fork of a tree five or six feet from the ground, near a brook." Mr. H. D. Minot says: "A nest of this species, containing young, which I found in Northern New Hampshire, was placed about twenty feet from the ground in a pine. Another, which I was so fortunate as to find in a thick hemlock-wood near Boston, was also about twenty feet from the ground. It contained three young and an unhatched egg, which measures .65 X .60, and resem- bles the egg of the Chestnut-sided Warbler, being white, THE C(ERULEAN WARBLER. 325 .with lilac, and principally reddish-brown markings grouped at the larger end." THE CCERULEAN WARBLER. I discharge both loads from my double-barrel, and bring down a pair of Warblers, male and female, from the top of a tall maple. They are fine specimens of the Coerulean Warbler {Dendrceca ccerulea). Have they jUst dropped down from the skies, and brought the pure azure with them? Except the dusky wings and tail, dark wing-coverts and centers of many of the feathers and white under parts, the epithet, coerulean, or sky-blue^ is certainly applicable to the male, particularly to his head, back and collar just above the breast. Excepting her light -r markings, less dusky wings and tail, missing collar and greenish tint over the head and back, the female is the same as the male. This species has the streaks along the sides, and the white marks in the outer tail-feathers, in common with the rest of the Den- droeca. The Coerulean Warbler, apparently belonging to the Mis- sissippi Valley, and scarcely a casual visitor on the Atlantic Coast, like certain other species of its locality, finds its way around the Alleghany Mountains for a short distance, and is very common throughout the summer in Western New York. Indeed, it is not uncommon as a summer resi- dent in the central part of the State. I have had every opportunity of observing its habits; and, as no writer has given it a full record, I bear it a special accountability. It is a bird of the woods, everywhere associated vvith the beautiful tall forests of the more northern counties of Western New York, sometimes found in the open woods of pasture-lands, and quite partial to hard-wood trees. In its flitting motion in search of insect prey, and in the jerking 5 1 i'i 826 THE BAY.BREASTED WARBLER. curves of its m6re prolonged flight, as also in structure, it is a genuine Wood Warbler, and keeps for the most part to what Thoreau calls " the upper story" of its sylvan domain. Its song, which is frequent, and can be heard for some dis- tance, may be imitated by the syllables, rkeet^ rheet, rheety rheet, Hdiy idi-e-e-e-ek, beginning with several soft warbling notes, and ending in a rather prolonged but quite musical squeak. The latter and more rapid part of the strain, which is given in the upward slide, approaches an insect quality of tone, which is more or less common to all Blue Warblers. This song is so common here as to be a universal character- istic of our tall forests. The bird is shy when startled from its nest, and has the sharp, chipping alarm note of the family. The nest is saddled on a horizontal limb of considerable size, some distance from the tree, and some forty or fifty feet from the ground. Small and very neatly and com- pactly built, somewhat after the style of the Redstart, it consists outwardly of fine dried grasses, bits of wasp's-nest, gfray lichen, and more especially of old and weathered wood-fibers, making it look quite gray and waspy. The lining is of fine dried grasses, or of fine shreds of the wild grape-vine, thus giving the inside a rich brown appearance in contrast with the gray exterior. The eggs, 4 or 5, some .60x.4'7, are grayish or greenish-white, pretty well spotted or specked, or even blotched, especially about the large end, with brown and deep lilac. They do not possess that delicate appearance common to the eggs of most of the Warblers. THE BAY-BREASTED WARBLER. In a small ash tree, a little out from the woods and alone in the field, I spy a Warbler somewhat larger than most of the family, and rather slow in its movements. Shooting it» THE BA Y-BREASTED WARBLER. 327 I recognize it as the Bay-breasted Warbler {Dendroeca cas- ^anea). As I hold it in my hand, I cannot but admire the plain richness of its costume. The back is greenish-gray streaked with black; wings and tail dusky, the former barred, the latter spotted on the inner web of the cuter-feathers with white; forehead and sides of the head black; head, throat, breast and sides a rich chestnut; under parts reddish- white, with a patch of clear light buff on each side of the neck, making a fine contrast with his dark colors. The fe- male is similarly marked, but a good deal lighter. Though not rare, as in New England and Nova Scotia, this species can hardly be called common in the migrations of this locality, except in certain seasons. The spring of 1880 brought it in large numbers during the second week in May. Mr. Allen says "in the Connecticut Valley it is generally more or less common, and sometimes very abundant." Dr. Coues found it rather common around Washington, D. C, in the migrations, and while none of the earlier ornitholo- gists knew much about it, nor anything of its nidification, Mr. Maynard has found it resident and breeding, early in June, in considerable numbers at Umbagog Lake. The nest, which is rather bulky, and usually placed in a hemlock tree some fifteen or twenty feet from the ground, is of " fine, dead larch-twigs, mixed, in one instance, with long tree-moss," and is "smoothly lined with black fibrous rootlets, some moss and rabbit's hair," giving it a striking resemblance to the nest of the " Purple Finch." The eggs are said to be " bluish-green, more or less thickly speckled with brown all over, the markings becoming confluent, or nearly so, at or around the larger end, where the brown is mixed with lilac or umber markings." As to the migrations of this species, the same author says : " Avoiding the Eastern and Middle States, the majority pass along the borders of the Great i ; ':!v ill! 328 THE BLACK-AND-YELLOW WARBLER. Lakes, through Ohio, Southern Illinois, down the Missis- sippi Valley, across into Texas, and so on into Mexico and Central America, where they winter. Returning in spring, they pursue a more southern route, keeping along the coast as far as the New England States, where they ascend the Connecticut Valley, generally avoiding Eastern Massachu- setts." Its song, said to begin like that of the Black-poll lid end like that of the Redstart, bears to my ear no re- semblance whatever to either, but is a very soft warble, somewhat resembling the syllables tse-chee, tse-chee^ tse-chee, tse-checy tse-cheCy but far too liquid to admit of exact spelling. THE BLACK-AND-YELLOW WARBLER. The wild grape, that common and exquisitely graceful ornament of our woods, has completely enshrouded a clump of bushes yonder; and as the leaves are just putting forth, of a reddish tinted texture, and hoary with down, they seem particularly attractive to the passing crowd of War- blers. There comes from its bowery depths a whist- ling warble, very liquid and sweet, and so soft that it can be heard only a few feet distant, whee-chOy whee-choy whee-choy whee-choy whee-cho. After peering cautiously for several minutes, I recognize the quick, flitting movement of the Black-and-yellow Warbler {Dendrceca maculosa). In its northern breeding places its song is a loud, clear whistle, which may be imitated by the syllables chee-tOy chee- tOy chee-tee-ehy uttered rapidly and ending in the falling inflection. It is interesting to note how faint and imper- fect an attempt at the final and full song on their breeding- grounds is the occasional soft, lisping warble of the Warblers as they pass us in the migrations. Any one thus studying these soft utterances has the merest prelude to the final burst of joy when the bird reaches its summer home. THE BLACK.AND-YELLOW WARBLER, 829 I cannot always see maculosa as early as this, but may find it quite common about the 18th or 20th of this genial month of May. Emitting a soft note, e-a^ e-a, probably a faint echo of its alarm note in breeding times — cree-e-e-e-e-epy long drawn and like that of the Vireos — it keeps to the lower story of the woods, and is not at all shy, thus giving me a good opportunity to note its manners as it is gleaning dili- gently. As it peers gracefully among the tender foliage who can fail to admire its gentleness and beauty? Among the smallest (4.26 long and 8.10 in extent) and the most deli- cately formed of its genus, its color is really brilliant. Crown ashy-blue, margined on the sides with white; fore- head, cheeks, back, wings and tail, black or blackish; throat, rump and under parts, bright lemon-yellow, the latter heavily blotched and streaked with jet-black; lower eye- lids, wing-coverts and large central patch on the inner web of most of the tail-feathers, pure white; thus giving a striking effect as the tail spreads in its various flitting motions — this little beauty would do justice to the tropics. The female is less brilliant, and not so distinctly marked. But, excepting its sojourn in winter, which extends entirely south of the United States, this is especially a northern bird, breeding from Northern New England to Hudson's Bay. Mr. C. J. Maynard describes a nest, taken at Umbagog the second week in June, 1870, as follows: "It was placed on the forked branch of a low spruce, about three feet from the ground, on a rising piece of land, leadiru^ '•om a wood- path. The nest, which contained four eggs, was con- structed of dry grass, spruce twigs, roots, etc., and was lined with fine black roots, the whole being a coarse struct- ure for so dainty looking a Warbler. The eggs were more spherical than any Warbler's I have ever seen. The ground color is a creamy-white, blotched sparingly over with large 830 THE BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER. spots of lilac and umber." Another, which was taken June 8th, 1871, was "composed outwardly of a few scattered dead twigs of larch, interwoven with stalks of weeds and dry grass. It is lined with black horse-hair; this dark lining forms a strange contrast with the faded appearance of the outer part. The whole structure is very light and airy in appearance, strongly reminding one of the nest of the D. pcnnsylvanica." This is in harmony with a note from Mr. Andrew Downes, of Halifax, N. S., who says: "I once found the nest of this bird on a hard-wood bough, breast high. It was composed of very light material. I could see through it." From a nest in H. A. Ward's cabinet, at Rochester, N. Y., and which was taken in Maine in June, I have the following note: "Placed in a fir bush two feet from the ground, shallow, and so frail that one can see through it, made of dried grasses and rootlets, and lined with fine rootlets and a little horse-hair. The 4 eggs are creamy- white, spotted and specked with red, brown and lilac, forming a delicate wreath. Size, .62 x. 50." Like other Warblers, maculosa has a strictly insect diet, and contributes greatly to the preservation of our forests. THE BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER. As I recline on a bed of dry leaves, and listen to this chorus of traveling songsters, I notice one song, the tones of which strongly resemble the hum or shrilling of an in- sect. I recall the fact that insects almost invariably render their music by some external organ, the wings, or the wings and legs together, for instance, and so are instrumental musicians; therefore, this striking resemblance of a vocal performer is all the more remarkable. Again and again I hear it, zwee-zwee-zwee, per-wee-zvee-wee* in languid notes, * I once heard this peculiar song preluded by a half-dozen beautiful, staccato, whistling notes. THE BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER. 331 slowly drawn out and not very loud. I become excited, and am conscious of each heart-throb as I listen. Now I have a full view of the musician — the Black-throated Blue War- bler {Dendroeca coerulescens). Rather more than an average in size as a Dendroeca (6.10 long and 7.75 in extent), he is of a rich slaty-blue above, often having graceful little black spots on the back; the inner webs of the tail and wings, black or dusky; throat, cheeks, and sides of the breast, jet- black; under parts, spots on the inner webs of the outer tail feathers, and nearly triangular spot at the base of the primaries, pure white. He is a genuine beauty; but his mate, of a bluish-olive above and yellowish-white beneath, the white wing-spot rather obscure, is one of the very plain- est of the Warblers. Generally found in the upland forests, this is one of the commonest of the genus in Western New York during the migrations. Keeping rather to the lower parts of the trees, though often found in the tree-tops, ex- ceedingly spry in all its movements, it is not only a thorough gleaner among spray and foliage, but also a fair flycatcher. Seldom seen here after the month of May, I conclude that I am not within the range of its breeding habitat. The most interesting and thorough account of its nidification is given in the Nuttall Ornithological Bulletin for April, 1876, by Rev. C. M. Jones, who reports a nest with four eggs, from the northeast corner of Connecticut, taken June 8th, 1874, and another, with the same number of eggs nearly hatched, on the 13th of the same month. Both nests were placed but a few inches from the ground, in small bushes of liMvel in the woods, near a swamp. In regard to the first: "About five inches from the ground the bush separated into three branches, and in this triple fork the nest was situ- ated." The second was "in two laurels. One of these lay horizontally in the fork of the other, and on the horizontal I ■> 832 THE CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER. \ one the nest was set, held in place by being attached on one side to the upright branches of the other." The nests, quite similarly built, are "firm and compact, composed outwardly of what appears to be the dry bark of the grape vine, with a few twigs and roots. This is covered in many places with a reddish-woolly substance, apparently the outer covering of some species of cocoon. The inside is composed of small black roots and hair." The eggs were " ashy- white," or "with a slight tinge of green, spotted and botched with brov/n and lilac around the larger end, and somewhat speckled with the same over the entire surface, averaging in size from .61 by .47 to .&6 by .60." As in the case of many of the rest of the Warblers, the female was quite tame, and allowed the discoverer to approach quite near the nest before she left it. Spending the winter south of the United States, or in Florida, it has been found as far north, in summer, as Labrador. Its chief habitat, however, must be a little to the westward, as the New England writers do not speak of it as plentiful; Mr. Downes reports it rare about Halifax, N. S., while Audubon saw none in Newfoundland, and "in Labrador only a dead one, dry and shrivelled, deposited like a mummy in the fissure of a rock." THE CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER. In a small maple in the edge of an open part of the woods I spy one of my special favorites, the Chestnut-sided War- bler {Dendrceca penmylvanicd). Arriving during the second week in May, keeping to the borders of open woods, especially where thickets are adjoined, and not generally aspiring very high, he is one of our common residents. Some 6.50 inches long, with yellow crown, sometimes deli- cately penciled with black; a ring of black slightly mixed THE CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER. 833 with white, extending from over the eyes around the back of the head; feathers of the back black, deeply edged with greenish-yellow, or with white across the shoulders; wings and tail blackish, slightly edged with green- ish-yellow or white, the latter having the white mark- ings on the inner web of the outer feathers; wing-coverts edged with yellowish- white; cheeks and whole under parts, satiny- white; throat bordered on the sides with black, the neck and breast bordered with bright chestnut. The female is quite similar, with the markings less distinct and the coloring less pure. Of a texture reminding one of fine muslin above, and of silk or satin beneath, there is something particularly delicate and chaste about the appear- ance of this bird; and his song, a warble in a somewhat whistling tone, the notes resembling the syllables, wee-chee, wee-cheey wee-chee, wee-chee, accent on the first syllable of each repetition, increasing to the last, is one of the most spirited of all the songs of the Warblers, and decidedly musical. Emitted as the bird is actively peering, flitting and glean- ing among the branches, it gives the impression of peculiar sprightliness and joy. Even when in a momentary repose> the raising of the feathers about the head, the drooping wings and slightly elevated tail, show a happy self-con- sciousness. The nest, built in the latter part of May or early in June, in a shrub or small tree, here commonly in the tops of the raspberry oj blackberry bushes, never far from the ground, is rather frail, loose and very slightly fastened, composed outwardly of fibrous material intermixed with a webby text- ure, sometimes with the covering of beech-buds, and is lined with very fine dried grass, or shreds of bark of the wild grape- vine, and more or less horse-hair. The eggs, commonly four, are specked or b otched with light-red and umber, mostly ■■uM m 111 I! ' ^ ^ \ 334 CAPE MA V WARBLER. around the g^eat end, on a ground of pure white, or slightly tinged with greenish or grayish, and in shape are rather longish and pointed. When disturbed or ;ilarmed, the Chestnut-side has the tsip or chip common to the Warblers. It is said to breed abundantly in Massachusetts and through 'ut New England. Dr. Coues thinks it extends " little, if any, beyrr^d," but Mr. Downes reports it as common around Halifax N. S. Mr. Wagner, who sends me a beautiful nest with eggs, says it breeds commonly in New Canada, Lunenburg Co.; and I found it in the Province, as I did also quite commonly in Great Manitoulin Island. CAPE MAY WARBLER. The day continues delightf ul,and as the Warblers are almost constantly in sight, we keep up a brisk firing. Among others, I bring down a beautiful male of the Cape May Warbler {Dendrceca tigrind) , somewhat larger than most Warblers, some 4.25 long and 8.10 in extent, the crown is black; back wings and tail of the same edged with greenish-yellow, the latter with the white on the inner web of outer feathers; lesser wing- coverts white, the greater, partly edged with grayish- white; cheeks light-brown, sometimes chestnut; sides of the neck, rump and under parts, bright lemon-yellow, the latter streaked with black. One may always know this beautiful bird by its brown cheeks. The female is duller in marking and color. Though not abundant, this species is not infre- quently found here during the migration. I saw quite a fiock of them in a larch in a front-yard in the village as I was returning from church one bright Sunday, early in May. O, the inconvenience of seeing birds on Sunday ! but who can keep his eyes shut when they are once opened ! Nowhere found to be numerous as yet, this bird is decid- CAPE MAY WARBLER. 335 \:dly a stranger to ornithologists. I can learn nothing of its song or its note, and almost nothing that is explicit about its nest. Mr. Minot says " a nest found in the neighborhood of Boston closely resembled that of the Yellow-bird in every respect." He also reports the five eggs, laid the first week in June, as similar to those of the last mentioned species. Dr. Brewer's account of the eggs is simply that they are like those of other Warblers. Eastern North America generally is given as its habitat, and it is said to breed in the West Indies. Mr. Smith, in his annotated list of the birds of Maine, reports this species as " not very com- mon. Mr. Boardman reports that it breeds in Eastern Maine, and it breeds in the western part of the State also, but in very limited numbers." Mr. Maynard, however, found these birds abundant in summer in the evergreen forests of Northern Maine. They kept to the tall tree- tops, and the songs of the males were particularly "lively and varied." He found the same species common at Key West in No- vember, and some remained there all winter. This species has a peculiar tongue, deeply cloven at the tip, and ciliate along the sides near the tip. The Tennessee, or Wandering Warbler, has the tongue quite similar, but not so deeply cleft. CHAPTER XV. PEWEES AND THE HOODED WARBLER. IT is a sunny evening on the 16th of May, one of those bright and tender evenings of the opening spring, when the birth of soft foliage and early flowers reminds one of in- fai7cy ; when neither the chill of the April atmosphere nor the damp dews of the dog-days chase the rays of the set- ting sun; but balmy airs, free, as yet, from annoying insects, and redolent of forest mould and fragrant flowers, bring healing with every breath. Vegetation always affords a great variety of the tints and shades of green, so that a strongly contrasted fabric might be woven without introducing any other color; but these shades are never so varied as in early spring; besides, many other colors are then intermixed. The beeches have a tinge of yellow, the willows and poplars are hoary, the maples and beech saplings are reddish, the ashes have a dash of deep purple or brown, the green of the wheat fields diffars from that of the meadows — in short, next to the brilliant effects of autumn are the softer tints of early spring. THE WOOD PEWEE. As I enter one of our luxuriant tracts of woodland, I hear the plaintive note of the Wood Pewee {Contopus virens)y a beautiful representative of the Flycatcher. Strongly re- sembling the rough, guttural and somewhat hurried sylla- THE WOOD PEWEE. 337 bles of the Common Pewee {Sayornis fuscus), this note is still very noticeably different in its slow, tender and somewhat melancholy whistle, pe-wee, the tone of which is in fine har- THB WOOD PEWEB. mony with the deep shadows of the thick forest where he so constantly takes up his abode. Generally the last syl- lable is given in a gentle upward slide, but not infrequently in a fine falling inflection, and the two syllables combined are always very pleasing. Wood Pewees have the sweet and child-like tones of the family; and, like the sentences of little children, they are delivered in the most significant slides and inflections. About the size of Traill's Flycatcher and the small Green Crested — some six inches in length — and of the same gen- eral olive-green above and yellowish-white beneath (only the olive is quite a good deal darker than that of the latter), it is always to be differentiated by its nest, which is a very gem in bird-building. Saddled on a forked limb, often in the orchard, often in the forest, it is quite shallow, composed outwardly of dried grasses or stalks of small weeds, closely 22 ■I HI i 338 THE WOOD PEWEE. fastened together with spider's web or silk of cocoons, and most elegantly covered with lichens, the whole appearing from below like a fine gray gnarl— the natural growth of the limb. It is lined with fine rootlets, sometimes mixed with vegetable down, or with fine grasses, including the fringy tops still green in color. This nest bears a great resem- blance to that of the Humming-bird. In its inclination to be sociable with man — for it loves to be in the orchard in his immediate neighborhood — in gentle, retiring ways, in sweetness of voice, and in architectural skill, the Wood Pewee is at once the elite and the favorite of its family. The eggs, commonly three, late in June or in July, some .70 X -55, are creaniy white, with a wreath of rather heavy dark spots intermixed with many which are pale, as if partly effaced. Wintering in the tropics, this bird summers in the Eastern United States generally, and in the British Provinces, breed- ing throughout. On the whole, it is rather a late migrant, reaching us about the middle of May, and leaving in Sep- tember. Most wonderful is that grouping of characters in natural objects by which they can be classified. How came there to be family resemblances where we do not find that com- munity of descent ever existed ? Why are we constantly detecting plans in the almost endlessly varied structures of natural history ? How is it that a science or the under- standing of nature by means of related forms and functions is possible ? How can we fail to see here the evidences of an intelligent Creator, whose thoughts are thus wrought out into systems and designs ? These things prove that the world neither made itself nor came by chance.. In its broadest relationship, the family of birds called THE OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER. 339 Flycatchers are formed throughout the tropical world, but the Flycatchers of America are a peculiar and well differ- entiated branch, some of which extend into north temperate latitudes. They are so distinctively marked as to be readily distinguishable from all other birds. Especially is this true of that division of the family peculiar to North America, the Tyrannida. The great body of the nearly four hundred species constituting the entire American group belongs to Central and South America, and are exceedingly varied in the details of form and color, some of them being very brill- iant. Ours are merely the outlying and plainer varieties. Our North American Flycatchers, the Tyrannidce^ may be distinguished by their rather large head, the crown feathers of which are more or less erectile; by the bill, which, broad at the base, rapidly narrowing to a sharp point, and depressed or flattened across the top and underneath, appears triangular when viewed from above, the upper tnandible being hooked and notched near the tip, while the mouth is provided with stiff bristling hairs on either side; by the wing, the ten primaries of which are of full length and narrowed, or emarginate near the end; by the feet and legs, noticeably small and weak for the size of the bird; and by the voice, which, for the most part, is harsh. Solitary in their habits, they are generally brave, and, on account of their strictly insectivorous habits, are very useful. THE OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER. Belonging to this same genus, Contopus^ is the Olive-sided Flycatcher {Contnpus borealis). About 7.50 long, hav- ing the form of the Wood Pewee and the color of the Common Pewee, or Phoebe, it is always to be distinguished from the latter by its light-colored under mandible, its dark olivaceous sides, and its " tuft of white, ' 1 ' Ll 1 fl I fl ■i 340 SMALL GREEN-CRESTED FLYCATCHER. fluffy feathers on the flank." It is readily distinguishable from all the smaller Flycatchers by its greater size. Both in structure and position, its nest resembles that of the King- bird, but its eggs, some .86 X .66, are merely an enlarged pattern of those of the Wood Pewee. As its name indicates, this bird is of northern habitat, breeding from New England to high latitudes. Its notes and habits of diet are those of the Flycatchers in general. The former are given by Nut- tall as **ehphebee" or ^^h'phebee" in a whistling tone some- what guttural at the commencement. To my ear, as I listened to it recently in Nuva Scotia, it sounded like,//;^/, pe-wehy the first syllable short and aspirated, the two follow- ing drawn out in loud, clear, whistling tones. SMALL GREEN-CRESTED FLYCATCHER. In a shadowy part of the woods, where young hemlocks are thickly interspersed, I hear sharp, quick notes, pee-ivheey quee-ree-ee, which I at once recognize as those of the Small Green-crestec! Fly-catcher {Empidonax acadicus), a very com- mon summer resident of our upland woods. I look sharply into the shadows for some time before I get sight of it. It is perched on a dead limb, near the base of a small hemlock; and always accompanies its note with a quick jerk of the tail. Like the rest of the Flycatchers, it sits still on its perch and waits for its prey; and when that prey appears, be it beetle, fly, or moth, it darts quickly after it, cutting a smooth curve, which is sure to intercept it, and seizing it with a sharp click of the mandibles. With its quick, well- directed movement, the broad gape of its deeply cleft mouth and tangle of bristles on each side of it, there is but a slim chance of escape for its victim. Some six inches in length, the crown feathers somewhat long and erected; the whole upper parts fine olive-green; SMALL GREEN-CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 341 the under parts yellowish-white, with an ashy tinge on the sides and across the breast; tail and wings dusky; the bars across the latter, as also the margins of the secondaries and tertiaries, the eye-lids and feathers about the flank, light greenish-yellow; feet and upper mandible, deep brown or dusky; under mandible, pale — this bird is of pleasing ap- pearance— a sprightly and cheerful ornament of the forest. There is nothing about it which wins our sympathy, how- ever, as do the sweet plaintive notes and the elegant nest of the Wood Pewee. Its nest, rather loose and rustic, is quite unique. Placed rather low, perhaps from five to nine feet from the ground, generally on the limb of a small evergreen, sometimes in a small hard-wood tree, it is loosely hung by the sides to a more or less fork-shaped part of the limb. Some three inches or more in external diameter, and some two inches or more through, it is loosely, even raggedly, woven of the fine spray of the hemlock, interspersed with grasses and some fibrous bark, or principally of fine grasses interspersed with the hemlock spray and bits of bark-fiber, more or less fastened together throughout with a fine webby or downy material, which also binds it to the forked limb; and it is ornamented with the bud-scales of the beech, and some- times with its dried stamenate blossoms. The inside, some two inches across and rather more than one inch in depth, is lined with fine hemlock spray, or fine grasses, or both; if principally of the latter, it has a light feathery appear- ance. It is always so loosely made that one can see through it. The eggs, about .75 X .50, are cream color; and spE^rsely specked or spotted with brown about the larger end or half. The female sits very closely; sometimes she can be caught in the hand, if one creeps stealthily under the nest; some- ■I m ■ f 5 ' i 1 1 342 THE HOODED WARBLER. times she will defend her nest most persistently, flying at the intruder with sharp notes and a snapping of the bill. Rare in Southern New England, and scarcely extending beyond the Mississippi, the principal breeding range of a-cadicus (geographically a false name) is the middle dis- trict of the United States. THE HOODED WARBLER. From different points in the thick woods comes the common and familiar song of the Hooded War- bler {Myiodioctes mitraius) — cheree-cheree-cheree-chi-di-ee^ the first three notes with a loud bell-like ring, and the rest in very much accelerated time, and with the falling inflection. Arriving early in May, this is one of our common summer residents throughout the dense upland forests, occupying the lower story of the woodland home, while the Coerulean Warbler occupies the upper. Here let me say that, in addition to its alarm note, a sharp whistling or metallic chip, which is very clearly character- ized, the Hooded Warbler las two distinct songs, as differ- ent as if coming from different species. Never shall I for- get how I was once puzzled by this. I was strolling in a thick forest near the corner of a slashing at evening twi- light, in June, when I was surprised by a strange whistling melody — whee-ree-whee-ree-eeh, with a marked emphasis on the second syllable, and a still more marked one on the last Part of the time this utterance was somewhat varied, a few notes being sometimes added, and again a few drop- ped. My curiosity was greatly excited, for I had supposed myself familiar with the sylvan voices in the neigh- borhood, but it soon became too dark to identify the bird. For nearly a week I went to that spot every day, always hearing the song, but never being able to get a clear sight THE HOODED WARBLER. 848 of the singer. It seemed exceedingly shy. In vain did I crawl on hands and knees among the undergrowth to get near to it, for just as I would seem about to gain a good view of it, the song would cease at the point under obser- vation, and come from one more distant. Just as I was about to gl/e the matter up, one evening, down came the singer, stage by stage, through the thick foliage, and, alight- ing within a few feet of me and in clear sight, gave the full effect of his whistling song. I have since heard the same song a number of times and in different places from the Hooded Warbler. So I conclude that in the case of this species there are, occasionally at least, two distinct and altogether different songs. Five inches or a little more in length, all the upper parts are of a fine olivaceous-green, all the under parts bright yellow; the two outer feathers on each side of the tail are white nearly to the base; a jet-black hood, covering the crown and back of the head, extending along the sides of the neck around the cheeks and completely covering the foreneck and throat— distinguishes the male. The sunlight on his breast, the hues of the forest on his back, and the emblems of mourning about his head as he peers out modestly from among the foliage, he is one of the most strikingly beautiful of all our large and etegant family of Warblers. The female is similar, out much less brilliant, and has the mere outline of the black hood. The Hooded Warbler belongs to the Flycatching War- blers, the bills of which resemble those of the Flycatchers, but in regard to all other points, especially the feet, they are true Warblers. The flesh-colored feet and legs of this bird denote that it is a Ground Warbler; that is, it belongs to those Warblers which make their home on or near the ground. Here it keeps itself, for the most part, well con- 844 WILSON'S BLACK-CAP. cealed among the foliage of the thick undergrowth, having a rather slow and dignified movement for a bird of its kind. It builds its nest from a foot to 18 inches from the ground, generally in the upright or somewhat leaning fork of a little bush. I once found it in a beech limb, lying on the ground, but still retaining the dry leaves. It is somewhat bulky, but quite neat, the lower part being of dry or skele- ton leaves, the upper part, especially the high and well- defined rim, of long fibrous bark, as that of the grape-vine, ash, bass-wood or elm, laid almost as nicely as coiled cords, the whole structure being bound together by a webby material, and lined with fine grasses, bark-fibers and horse- hair. In location, material and structure, it is quite unique, and, like most other birds' nests, is a much more certain means of identification than the eggs themselves. These, 2-4, varying from .63X.52 to .76X.60, are clear white, deli- cately specked and spotted, sometimes even blotched, with reddish brown and lilac. In form and coloration the eggs are very variable. They may be found fresh from the last week in May till the middle of June. A second set may Gometimes be found in July. The male aids in incubation. Confined to the eastern part of the United States, and barely entering the southern part of New England, Western and Central New York, where it is quite common, must be about the northern limit of this species. WILSON S BLACK-CAP. Wilson's Black-cap {Myiodioctes pusillus), rega^ ' js closely related to the above species, appears here o ion- ally as a migrant. Mr. Bruce, of Brockport, New i )rk, once saw a large flock actively gleaning insects in a row of willow trees, about the middle of May. I have known one, also, to be taken in Western New York; but I have never THE LEAST PEWEE. 845 seen it myself. Mr. Smith gives it as a migrant through Maine, but not common; and Mr. Chamberlain reports it as an uncommon summer resident in New Brunswick. Audu- bon found it breeding commonly in Labrador, the nest being "placed on the extremity of a small horizontal branch, amongst the thick foliage of dwarf firs, not more than from 3-5 feet from the ground, and in the center of the thickets of these trees, so common in Labrador. The mate- rials of which it is composed are bits of dry moss and delicate pine twigs, agglutinated together and to the branches or leaves around it, beneath which it is sus- pended; the lining is of extremely fine and transparent fibers. The greatest diameter does not exceed 3^ inches, and the depth is not more than 1)^. The eggs are 4, dull white, sprinkled with reddish and brown dots toward the larger end, where the markings form a circle, leaving the extremity plain." Mr. Allen found the Black-cap '* a com- mon inhabitant of the sub-alpine and alpine districts in the Colorado Mountains, breeding from about 8,000 feet up to about the timber line." Dr. Coues found it a common summer resident in the mountainous districts of Arizona from May to September. Neither of them, however, found the nest. Small; length, 4.60; stretch, 7.00; bill much feathered, after the manner of the Flycatchers; the color, yellowish-green above, becoming brownish on wing and tail; forehead, sides of the head and under parts, bright yellow; the black patch on tht^ crown being less extended in the female, and wanting in the young. The food is taken on the wing with a click of the bill, also after the manner of the Flycatchers. THE LEAST PEWEE. As I approach the edge of the woods on a rather low spot of ground, I hear the unmistakable notes of the Least IF 346 THE YELLOW-BELLIED FLYCATCHER. Pewee {Empidonax minimus) — sewick, sewick, written by some ^*chebec" — quickly and sharply uttered. It has been here for two weeks or more. About the color of the common Phoebe {Sayornis fuscus), only a little grayer about the head, and scarcely more than five inches long; it is much smaller than the rest of our Flycatchers; and, not to speak of its peculiar notes, has? a nest wholly unlike that of any of them, and eggs which never can be mistaken for those of any other bird in our locality; and yet, numerous as it is throughout the Eastern United Stages, neither Audubon nor Wilson distinguished it. It is very common here, par- ticularly in thickets, the borders of the low-land forests, and the more open swamps. The nest, generally placed out of reach, sometimes fifteen feet or upward from the ground, commonly in the top fork of a small tree or sap- ling, sometimes on a horizontal limb, is neat and very closely compacted, composed outwardly of wood or bark-fibers, sometimes well intermixed and ornamented with vegetable down, and lined with fine fibers of bark, fine grasses and vegetable down in general, sometimes with fine feathers. The entire nest bears a strong resemblance to that of the Redstart. The eggs, three or four, from .60 or .65X.50, are pure white. "Breeds abundantly from Southern New England northward." (Coues.) Eggs a. e found here late in May or early in June. THE YELLOW-BELLIED FLYCATCHER. I have also taken the Yellow-bellied Pewee {Empidonax flaviventris), here in Orleans County late in May. As it ranges throughout North America and breeds from the Middle States northward, it probably breeds here. About 6.50 long, and olive-green above, it is readily distin- guishable by its bright yellow under parts. The ring TRAILL S FLYCATCHER. 847 around the eye, the lower mandible, and the bars across the wing-coverts are also yellow. Its note is said to be a " low pe-a" and its so-called song is said to sound like the sylla- bles killicky repeated at rather long intervals. As to the nest and eggs of this species, authors have been quite con- fused; some reporting them pure white and others spotted; but a nest examined by Messrs. Deane and Pardie, on the 18th of June, 1878, was quite conclusive. It was placed in the upturned roots of a tree; and "a large dwelling it was for so small and trim a bird. Built in and on to the black mud clinging to the roots, but two feet from the ground, the bulk of the nest was composed of dry moss, while the outside was faced with beautiful fresh-green mosses, thickest around the rim or parapet. The home of the Bridge Pe- wee {Sayornis fuscus) was at once suggested. But no mud entered into the actual composition of the nest, though at first we thought so, so much was clinging to it when re- moved. The lining was mainly of fine black rootlets, with a few pine-needles and grass-stems. * ♦ * fhe eggs, four in number, were perfectly fresh, rounded -ova) in shape, and of a beautiful rosy- white tint, well spotted with a light reddish shade of brown." An elegant nest, sent me from Nova Scotia by Mr. Wagner, is made of fine dried grasses, arranged 'via bunch of moss. The four white eggs, some .71 X.50, are beautifully specked, spotted, and even blotched about the large end with light red. The nest was taken from the ground with fresh eggs the 15th of June. TRAILL S FLYCATCHER. Another Flycatcher about our low lands and swamps, and especially along streams in such places, is Traill's Flycatcher {Empidonax traillii). About six inches long, or sometimes a little less, it is to be distinguished from the small Green- ^f 348 COOPER'S HA WJC. crested Flycatcher by the darker olive of the upper parts, and from the Yellow-bellied Flycatcher by its entire lack of the bright yellow beneath, as well as by the absence of the clear greenish tinge so distinctive in the upper parts of the latter. Its voice, habit of location, and also the structure of its nest, differentiate it very clearly. Its ordinary note is a. pip or chip^ and what is sometimes called its song has been written che-bee-u. Indeed, a careful study of the more prominent notes of the smaller Flycatchers will distinguish them all. The nest, which, according to the local habit of the bird, is in some swampy region, is placed in the upright fork of a bush or sapling, is quite compact, and externally bears indeed no small resemblance to that of the Yellow Warbler, except that it is a little larger. The outside is of gray fi- brous material, intermixed with the bleached blades of dried grasses; the inside is of fine dried grasses, closely laid, and the whole structure is more or less mixed with vegetable down. As is the case with most Flycatchers, the interior of the nest is large for the size of the bird. The eggs, commonly three, some .68 x .50, are creamy white, the larger half being more or less spotted and specked with reddish- brown. Wintering in the tropics, Traill's Flycatcher finds its breeding habitat in the Eastern United States and the British Provinces, reaching the latter during the latter half of May. cooper's hawk. In the top of a tall beech tree, I discover a hawk's nest, and while I am querying whether it be new or old, the female of Cooper's Hawk {Accipiter cooperi) alights on a limb near the nest, and presently drops into it. At the same time I see a friend passing along the winter road near COOPER'S HA WK. 349 by, carrying a fine rifle. He is a good marksman, so I beckon him to my assistance. As I strike on the trunk of the tree the bird* leaves the nest, and my friend takes her on the wing. Down she comes, so gradually that she almost appears as if alighting, and skimming along near the ground for some distance, finally drops, squealing loudly enough to alarm the whole feathered tribe in the neighborhood. As I approach her, she defends herself with the heroism of a true Hawk. The bullet has passed through her thigh, shattering the bone thoroughly, and the two outer pinions of one wing are cut away. But why should this simple shattering of the thigh bring down so strong a bird so readily ? The explanation is to be found in the peculiar anatomy of the bird. In 1 761, Peter Camper, a distinguished Dutch anatomist, discovered that the cavities in the bones of birds, which Gabbe had already observed to contain no marrow, were in direct communication with the lungs, and so participated in respiration. In 1774, John Hunter, the great English comparative anatomist, verified the same in his marvelous researches into the anatomy of birds. Extending their investigations in the most able manner throughout the entire class of birds, they discovered that " the air-cells and lungs can be inflated from the bones, and Hunter injected the medullary cavities of the bones from the trachea. If the femur" — the thigh bone — ^* into which the air is admitted be broken^ the bird is unable to raise itself in flight. If the trachea be tied and an opening be made into the humerus" — the up- per wing-bone — " the bird will respire by that opening for a short period, and may be killed by inhaling noxious gases through it. If an air-bone of a living bird, similarly per- forated, be held in water, bubbles will rise from it, and a motion of the contained air will be exhibited, synchronous with the motions of inspiration and expiration. Vi! .f 350 COOPER'S HA WK. " The proportion in which the skeleton is permeated by air varies in different birds. In the A/ca t'mpenm's, the Pen- guins {Aptenodytes) and the Apteryx^ air is not admitted into any of the bones. The condition of the osseous system, therefore, which all birds present at the early periods of ex- istence, is here retained through life. " In the large Struthious Birds, which are remarkable for the rapidity of their course, the thigh-bones and bones of the pelvis, the vertebral column, ribs, sternum and scapular arch, the cranium and lower jaw, have all air admitted into their cavities or cancellous structure. In the Ostrich the humeri and other bones of the wings, the tibice and distal bones of the legs, retain their marrow. Most birds of flight have air admitted into the humerus ; the Woodcock and Snipe are exceptions. The Pigeon tribe, with the exception of the Crown Pigeon, have no air in the femur, which re- tains its marrow. In the Owls also the femur is filled with marrow; but in the Diurnal Birds of prey, as in almost all other birds of flight, thQ femur is filled with air. In the Pelican and Gannet the air enters all the bones with the exception of the phalanges of the toes. In the Hornbill even these are permeated by air."* My specimen of Cooper's Hawk is one of the largest, some 20 inches long. She is sometimes scarcely more than 18 inches long, while the male is never more than 18, and may not exceed 16 inches in length. This species, which in structure and color is almost precisely like that of the Sharp-shinned Hawk, being, however, unmistakably larger, makes with it, and it only in this country, a strongly marked genus, the Accipiter — the distinc've generic points being: 1st, that the feathers extend but slightly down the tarsus; 2d, that the toes are long and very slender, much webbed at the base, ♦ Comparative Anatomy and Physiology of Vertebrates, by Richard Owen, Vol. 1, pp. S13, 314. COOPERS HAWK, 361 and thickly padded; 3d, that the fourth primary is longest, the " second shorter than the sixth," and the first noticeably short; 4th, the soft and finely blended character of the colors above, in inaturity — being a fine ashy-brown, black- ish on the head. The under parts of both birds are white, with fine cross-streaks of light-reddish. They bear about the same relation to each other as that of the Hairy to the Downy Woodpecker. Cooper's Hawk is especially a bird of the United States, most common in the Northern States, and extending but slightly into the British Provinces. The Sharp-shinned Hawk is sometimes found here in winter, but Cooper's Hawk goes farther south. Early in May is the time for the nidification of the latter in this locality. The nest, in the crotch of a tall tree, or where several limbs join the trunk, always very high, is built of sticks and lined with dry grass, or strips of bark, sometimes containing feathers, the depression being but slight. The eggs, 3 or 4, sometimes 6, about 1.90 x 1.50, are white, greenish or grayish f'nged, often clear, sometimes slightly blotched with dark drab or brown. Mr. Samuels mentions a pair robbed of their eggs four times in the same season. " They built different nests in the same grove, and laid in the four litters, four, five, and three eggs, respectively. The eggs of the last litter were very small, but little larger than those of the Sharp-shinned Hawk." The ordinary flight of this bird is rapid and straight- forward, the regular strokes of the wings being frequently relieved by sailing. In the mating season, when it is very noisy, having a note which sounds like chee-e-e-ah^ I have seen it, high in air, above the tops of the tallest trees, shoot- ing toward one of its kind whose voice it heard in the dis- tance, with half-closed and perfectly motionless wings, and with a rocket-like speed and a gracefulness which no "i^ \ 352 THE SHARPS fflNNED HAWK. langfuage could describe. In pursuit of its prey, which may consist of small quadrupeds, the smaller ducks and waders, grouse, and the larger kinds of the common land-birds, it moves with great spirit and adroitness, and seldom misses its quarry. So well known is it in the poultry yard that it is called the " Chicken Hawk." When reared from the nest it becomes so thoroughly domesticated as to need no con- finement. THE SHARP-SHINNED HAWK. The Sharp-shinned Hawk {Accipiter fuscus), in every way so similar to Cooper's Hawk, is some 12 inches long; brown or slate-colored above, with a few white spots on the back of the head and on the scapulars; tail also brown* or ashy, but considerably lighter, with fine dark bands across it, sometimes tipped with whitish; the white under parts closely and narrowly barred with reddish; throat, narrowly streaked lengthwise with brown. Its nest is similarly placed to that of the former species, only not so high up in the tree, but is occasionally placed on a rock. The eggs, some 4, are about 1.40 x 1-20, roundish, clear white, or perhaps slightly tinged with blue or green, heavily and distinctly marked — patched — with brown. This Hawk reaches Western New York the latter part of April, and its eggs are laid early in May. It is readily dis- tinguished by its short, broad wings, and rather nervous and irregular flight; but it moves rapidly, and sometimes with great impetuosity, so that it has been known to pass through several glass partitions of a green-house. Seizing its prey on the wing, in the manner of a true Hawk, it dashes after it with the utmost directness, moving high or low, to the right or left, as if by some continuous attraction. With an unerring stroke, it wounds fatally in the very act of capture, and then bears its prey to a tree, to be devoured at THE SHARP.SHINNED HAWK. 353 leisure. In addition to the small birds thus taken on the wing, it may pounce on one larger and heavier than itself, or it may swoop down upon the small quadrupeds, or, after the manner of the smaller Hawks in general, make its repast even on insects. As with birds of prey in general, the surest way of escaping its clutches is by soaring; the thickets, into which the smaller birds generally dive when pursued, affording but little obstruction to its penetrating flight. Its note, which is but seldom heard, is sharp and shrill. Ranging over all North Ameriea, it may be found in New York and Massachusetts during mild winters. 23 CHAPTER XVI. BIRDS AROUND THE HOUSE. ON a beautiful sunny morning, the 16th of May, I am watching the birds and listening to them from my study window. From the apple trees and the currant bushes in the garden comes the voluble and sprightly song of the Common Wren {Troglodytes aedon). Of all the songs of birds within the range of our acquaintance, there is no mel- ody more gushing, more sparkling, more full of the very soul of vital energy, thain the warbling, twittering perform- ance of this most active and industrious little creature. If the syllables have not that measured cadence, nor the tones that heart-searching vibration, which mo1|[^ne to melan- choly or to joy, to prayer or to praise, it touches the nerves with a startling impulse, like the gust of the summer wind shaking the leaves, the patter of rain on the roof, or the streaming of sunshine through a rift of the clouds. How much quicker my thoughts move after that trill from the garden wall, and how suggestive is each note of its repeti- tion ! Now he mounts a hitching-post, in full view, in the adjoining church-yard, and the sight of him is almost as animating as his voice. The tail, which drooped during his song, is immediately thrown up and forward as it ceases; he twists and turns upon his nimble feet as if on a swivel or pivot, that can let him up and down and around in every direction ; his sharp bill signals every point of the com- THE COMMON WREN. 355 pass, and his tiny, sparkling eye seems to take in every object. Now he drops from the post, and flying low, with a steady flutter of his short, round wings, he dives into a thicket of rose bushes. Here he slides up and down the stems like an automaton, peers under the leaves with every conceivable twist of the neck, and runs on the ground, darting in and out of rubbish with the quickness and . penetration of a mouse. The great variety and abundance of his insect food, whether gleaned amidst the thick foliage, drawn from chinks and crevices, or captured on the wing, is taken so adroitly that only the close observer can comprehend the important services of this restless and diminutive species in subduing these pests of the house and garden. Alas, that man, that lord of creation, should eat his currants, his cabbage and his lettuce, all unconscious of how much the birds have saved for him ! Presently I hear the Wren again, and in altogether another part of the garden. This time he is not a singer but a scold. How angry is his chirp^ as he berates that white cat, which, standing fair in front of his retreat in the blackberry bushes, ogles him with her green fire-balls, and moves the end of her tail in signal of the murder-prepense in her heart. But this wee Wren is one of the bravest of birds, and is always so well on the alert that Grimalkin soon gives up in despair, and concludes to suffer alike the mortification of the scolding and the disappointment of the stomach. Having been quite curious as to the nesting of this Wren, which has come so regularly to these premises for years, I go out into the yard and watch his movements. There, he has taken a spider from that web in the apple-tree and has dis- appeared under the horse-sheds back of the church. Conclud- r 356 THE COMMON WREN, ing that his nest is somewhere in that structure, I hide away and watch. In a few moments he flits down and drops into a rather loose mortise-joint, where a brace enters a post. The entrance is very small, but there is quite a space inside. Having examined any considerable number of nests, one can conceive the contents and arrangement of such a cavity without access to it. However large the space, it will be well filled up with rough, crooked twigs, leaving a bristling and. irregular passage barely large enough to admit the tiny occupant, which passage leads to the nest, ensconced away in the remotest corner. The nest proper is composed of dried grasses well laid, and is well lined with hair and feathers. The variety of cavities appropriated for a nest by this pertinacious little bird is beyond account — the bird- box, the holes about the house-cornice, a hole in a p)ost or in an old apple-tree, the mud dwelling of the Eave Swallow, the inside of a log-pump, the pocket or sleeve of an old coat hanging in an out-building, an old hat with rent crown stuck up against the wall, the brain-cavity of a horse's skull mounted on a stake — in short, any cavity into which suffi- cient material of the proper kind can be stowed and arranged for a breeding tenement. A nest once found in the clothes- line box of Professor Ware, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and which has attained classic fame, filled a space " consid- erably more than afoot square," and consisted of "theexuvia of a snake several feet in length, large twigs, pieces of India- rubSer suspenders, oak leaves, feathers, pieces of shavings, hair, hay, etc., etc." With what boldness and pugnacity this Wren will drive the gentle Bluebird, or the large Black Martin from his box; how he will dislodge the Eave Swallow from his jug-nosed tenement; thus taking possession of the rightful home of another, on which be has no claim whatever; and how he THE EAVE SWALLOW. 357 will contend fpr his premises with those of his own kind, is familiar to all who know him. The eggs of this species, some half-dozen or upward, about .60X.48, are a delicate flesh color, very finely specked and sprayed all over with reddish-brown, thickening into a wreath or large spot at the large end. About five inches long, this Wren is deep brown, crossed with bars of black above, the head and neck being plain; the throat and breast are buff, or a 'light clay color; belly and vent white, spotted with brown and black; the tail, which is much longer than that of the Winter Wren — about two inches — is brown, crossed with lines of black; the feet are flesh color. Wintering in the Southern States, this species ranges throughout the Eastern States, west to Nebraska and Da- kota, and north somewhat into the British Provinces, becoming rare already in Northern New England. THE EAVE SWALLOW. As I look up into the cloudless sky I am impressed w^ith its great depth and transparency. If I believed in the old Ptolemaic theory of separate crystalline spheres, or hollow globes, in which the various planets, including the sun and the fixed stars as a system, were severally set, each sphere revolv- ing with its own velocity, I should think that some mystic power in the air had been very thoroughly at work, and had newly cleansed and polished these transparent spheres throughout. Against this clear deep, multitudes of Eave or Cliff Swallows {Petrochelidon lunifrons) are describing their elegant flight. This species, and the family it repre- sents, are in the strictest sense "birds of the air," since they spend nearly all their time in that region. Their small weak feet, long pointed wings and great nervous t '■ S,;l I! ' 858 THE EAVE SWALLOW. energy are all in constitutional harmony with this fact. There is a language of motion as well as of sound; hence, like a strain in music, the flight of each bird conveys its peculiar idea. There is majesty in the soaring of the Eagle, alarm in the whir-r-r-r of the Partridge, haste in the whistling strokes of the Duck, joy in the exulting curves of the Goldfinch, and a happy contentment in the easy gyra- tions of the Swallow. My mind goes into repose, and drinks in the sweet spirit of contentment, defying galling burdens and corrosive cares, as my eye follows the spirit- like sweep of those sabre-shaped wings, each curve describ- ing a happy thought on the sunny sky. And what a study might there be of marvelous adjust- ment and conformity to mechanical laws, by which this little creature makes its way through the trackless air with such nice accuracy, that it can "pick up a flying gnat ** whilst moving "at the rate of more than a hundred miles an hour." Or who can conceive how many tickling and prickling annoyances of insect-life are prevented for us, during the long summer days, by the semi-domestic services of these Swallows, each one of which probably destroys at least a thousand insects every day. For some time it has been a question with ornithologists whether the Eave Swallow gradually extended its habitat from Mexico through North America, as it was formerly believed. The very best authorities now conclude that it has always been "amenable to the ordinary laws of ruigra- tion and spread over nearly all of North America, the South Atlantic States, perhaps, excepted; " and that " the numerous recorded dates of its appearance and breeding in particular localities merely mark the times when the birds forsook their natural breeding places and built under eaves, which enabled them to pass the summer where formerly they were THE EAVE SWALLOW. 850 unable to breed for want of suitable accommodations." (Coues.) In the great canons of the west, along the vertical walls beneath shelving rocks, sometimes where great rivers rush between frowning battlements, the strange, bottle- shaped nests of this species, according to its primitive style, are hung by thousands in the most fantastic arrangements. Among all our birds none has discovered so great an incli- nation to accommodate itself to man, and to avail itself of the advantages of civilization, as the various species of the Swallow. The Purple Martin abandons the holes in trees and takes up his abode in almost any convenience about human habitations; the Fork- tailed Swallow has abandoned the trees of the forest and the caves, for the rafters and peaks of the barn, and so has received the name. Barn-swallow; the White-bellied Swallow is inclined to leave his hollow stump for a hole in the wall; the so-called Chimney Swallow, or Swift, has left the hollow trees formerly appropriated, and will rather endure the daily smoke of the chimney than leave the neighborhood of man; even the Sand Martin has shown some inclination to take to cavities under the bridge, and so join the thoroughfare of man, rather than remain in the banks of lonely streams; and how the Eave Swallows will swell their colonies from year to year under those eaves which afford a convenience, every one has had opportunity to note. This tenement of mud is a very artistic thing of its kind. The swell of the main part, the narrowing jug-nosed entrance, so exactly rounded, and the well cemented pellets of mud, giving the external surface such a neat, pebbly appearance, are all entirely beyond human imitation, as I fully satisfied myself by many experiments in the days of my childhood. How cozy it looks up there under the broad eaves. Soft bits of hay and an abundance of down are there, to accommo- 1 I k \ v\ \ ■ \ W Nil l-i fill iiii 360 THE EAVE SWALLOW. date the frail eggs and the tender young. What sweet peace reigns in that little household! What a world of domestic comfort discovers itself in that soft musical chat- ter, so much like animated conversation! What are those little hearts saying to each other, up there away from all the rest of the world? Surely no burdened spirit is carried into the air from that household. But woe to the intruder who may be found within the sacred precincts when the parent returns; and this sometimes occurs in fresh-made nests by pilferers who are too lazy to travel for material for their own domiciles. After a fev/ notes of astonishment and warning, uttered in harsh syllables, the offender is uncere- moniously thrust out, and, held by the scruff of the neck, dangles awkwardly in the air for several seconds, being finally allowed to escape with a volume of execrations.* What happy playful creatures are the members of this extremely peaceful colony. Many a sport do they enjoy, unnoticed by the busy and inobservant owner of the premi- ses. See them play with that feather floating like a thistle- down in the air! One seizes it in one of his exact curves, and carries it up many feet, simply to drop it for his com- rade, who again snatches it as it nears the ground, and ele- vates it for the pleasure of the next neighbor who catches it in like manner. Thus the feather is a plaything for the whole company in turn, just as boys would use a ball or a shuttle- cock; and their merriment of chat and laughter is equal to that of the happiest and most animated human voices. Those rosy eggs v*rith specks of brown, scarcely to be distinguished from the litters hung to the rafters inside, are incubated by both sexes; and when the young are out of the shell, the parents skim the air most assiduously to ♦ The European House Martin has bee'i known to close up the entrance, and so imprison the Common Sparrow of the Old World, which might be entering its nest in search of accommodation for itself; our Martin keeping guard while the mate did the mason work. THE BLACK MARTIN. 861 secure the abundance of insect-food necessary to their voracity. For just as nervous people eat much without grow- ing fat, the nourishment of their food being consumed by their nervous energy, so these active birds are almost un- limited eaters. Two broods may b« raised in a season, and in the latter part of August, the ridge of the barn, or the telegraph wire, attests to the numerous progenies which migrate southward for the winter, to return again to the middle districts, from their distant sojourn, late in April or early in May. About five inches long, the tail not being forked, this species has the upper parts a glossy steel-blue, there being a white triangular or crescent-shaped spot on the forehead (hence the specific mxco, lunifrons)\ threat and sides of the head, chestnut; rump, reddish; breast, sides, and collar about the neck, rust-color, becoming white or whitish on the belly. As with the rest of the Swallows, the sexes are nearly alike, and the young are similar. The white or whitish mark on the forehead is always distinctive. Wtatering in Central America, this species breeds nearly thicughout North America. I' THE hLACK MARTIN. On this same beautiful morning the Black Martins {Progne purpurea) are abroad. The fine curves in flight and the easy but rapid sailing, as weii as the form, mark this bird as a Swallow, huge though he be for one of his kind. His notes, however, are peculiar to himself. Chee-u, chee-u^ chee-u^ chee-u^ uttered in rapid succession, may represent his common vocal performance. Often he adds a peculiar guttural croak or chuckle, especially when alighted about the breeding tenement, the above-described being it II 3G2 THE BLACK MARTIN. especially his language while on the wing Some seven inches long, wing six inches, tail slightly forked, this species appears large for one of his kind. The mature male is "lustrous blue-black" all over. The female and young have a rather dull modification of the color above, being more or less white below, streaked and spotted with gray. Undoubtedly this species originally bred in holes in trees, and it is occasionally known to do so still. Now, however, it appropriates a hole in the house-cornice, a bird-box, or an apartment of the doveliouse. The "solitary Indian" of the olden times trimmed the boughs from a sapling near his wigwam or rude cabin, "leaving the prongs a foot or two in length, on each of which he hung a gourd, or calabash, properly hollowed out," for the bird's convenience. Later still, on the banks of the Mississippi, the negroes stuck up "long canes, with the same species of apartment fixed to their tops, in which the Martins regularly bred." If rude and savage breasts discover such cordiality toward this bird, what wonder if civilization and refinement attract it by miniature houses, especially since the species follows man to the populous village and the crowded town, and is not disturbed even by the thoroughfares of business. The breeding tenement adopted by the Martin is fitted up with a nest of bits of straw, hay, and dry leaves, lined with feathers. The eggs, some .95x-'<'0, rather small for the size of the bird, are pure white. Thus the nest and eggs of the Martin bear a close resemblance to those of the White-bellied Swallow, Its bill is "very stout" for a Swallow, and is "curved at the end," Its bill of fare is by no means confined to the tiny insects so abundantly captured by the smaller Swal- lows, but includes "wasps, bees, large beetles," etc. THE HUMMINGBIRD. 863 All careful observers bear testimony to the remarkable pugnacity of the Martin, which attacks successfully the Hawks and Owls generally, and even the Eagle, and so pesters them as to drive them from the neighborhood, thus secun ng more or less protection for the Domestic Fowl. It will join common cause with the Kingbird, or it will attack the Kingbird in turn and compel him to flee. Wintering in the tropics, the Black Martin ranges throughout the United States and far north into Canada, breeding nearly throughout its range. It reaches New York late in April, and leaves late in August or early in September. Late in August they sometimes assemble in large flocks, after the manner of the Swallows generally, preparatory to their southward flight. i ■ "ii i -i THE HUMMINGBIRD. As I am gazing on that Tartarian honeysuckle — a thing of splendid beauty, with its abundant sprays of blossoms of snowy white and bright purple set off by an exuberance of dark-green leaves — a Ruby-throated Hummingbird {Tro- chilus colubris) shoots around the house and hums in front of the clusters of blossoms. There are many birds, the flight of which is so rapid that the strokes of their wings cannot be counted, but here is a species with such nerve of wing that its wing-strokes cannot be seen. "A hazy semicircle of indistinctness on each side of the bird is all that is perceptible." Poised in the air, his body nearly at the perpendicular, he seems to hang in front of the flow- ers, which he probes so hurriedly, one after the other, with his long slender bill. That long, tubular, fork-shaped tongue may be sucking up the nectar from those rather small cylin- drical blossoms, or it may be capturing tiny insects housed away there. Much more like a large sphinx moth, hover- :■! M I 864 THE HUMMINGBIRD. ing and humming over the flowers in the dusky twilight, than like a bird, appears this delicate fairy-like beauty. How the bright green of the body gleams and glistens in THE HUMMINGBIRD. the sunlight; while the ruby-colored throat, changing with the angle of light as the bird moves, is like a bit of black velvet above the white under parts, or it glows and shimmers like a flame. Each imperceptible stroke of those tiny wings conforms to the mechanical laws of flight, in all their subtle complications, with an ease and gracefulness that seems spiritual. Who can fail to note that fine adjustment of the organs of flight to aerial elasticity and gravitation, by which that astonishing bit of nervous energy can rise and fall almost on the perpendicular, dart from side to side, as if by magic, or, assuming the horizontal position, pass out of sight like a shooting star ? Is it not impossible to con- ceive of all this being done by that rational calculation THE HUMMINGBIRD. 365 which enables the rower to row, or the sailor to sail his boat? The Hummingbird has alighted on a twig of the cherry- tree iiear by. I can barely see his feet, like bits of fine- drawn wire, supporting the wee bit of a body. He looks nervously about him, pointing his long bill in every direc- tion, and sidles gracefully along his slender perch. Presently another male appears, with an equally ruby throat, and dash- ing at each other, they describe a swift zigzag, whirling about most perilously, squeaking like mice, and finally disappearing with a rapidity which the eye can follow but for a moment. About 3.25 long, this species is golden-green above, with a fine gloss, and white beneath, the wings and tail being a purplish-brown. The male has the metallic-lustrous ruby on the throat, which is wanting in the female and the young. The female has the sides of the tail white. The nest of this species, about *he size of half a hen's egg, and saddled on a small limb, is made of a soft, vegetable, cottony substance, sometimes white, sometimes reddish or grayish, externally intermixed, perhaps, with the scales of beech-buds — a sort of staple article in the nest of many kinds of birds — seemingly to give it consistency, the whole structure being most elegantly covered outside with brightly colored lichens ; thus appearing so much like a natural growth or excrescence of the wood itself as generally to elude observation. It may be placed pretty well up in the tree in the depth of the forest, or lower down in the orchard, or on a currant-bush or rose-bush in the garden, or on a coarse weed-stalk in the vicinity. The two tiny oval-oblong eggs, pure white and translucent, lying on their bed of silken down, edged and surrounded with the gayest lichens, never fail to move the heart of the beholder as one of the rarest bits of natural beauty. f .a m M 1:ll 366 THE HUMMINGBIRD. But the most wonderful characteristic of our Humming- bird, perhaps, considering his tropical relationships, is the great northern range of his summer habitat. Excepting several western species, which migrate along the Rocky Mountains and westward to a pretty high latitude, the four hundred species and upwards which make up the family of Hummingbirds, are found almost entirely in tropical America. They are creatures associated with the high tem- peratures and the luxuriant flora of the American section of the torrid zone. But our tiny wanderer goes all the way through Eastern North America to the semi-frigid regions of Labrador and Hudson's Bay. He is the great traveler of his family. And with what a magic and spirit-like stroke of the wing does he compass sea and land. He passes by the lumbering strokes of the Heron, the Wild Goose or the Eagle, almost like a streak of lightning, and sets at utter defiance all the humming, buzzing wings of the insect world. Our Ruby-throat is one of the plain and more diminutive members of his family. In this relationship of hundreds, while the unity binding them together is great, the strongly marked variation characterizing the different groups is still more remarkable. The Sabre-wings, the Coquettes, the Rackets, the Puff-legs, the Sylphs, the Thorn-tails, the Star- fronts, etc., have each their distinguishing peculiarities. Whether we contemplate the snowy down of the Puff-leg, the elegant crest of the Coquette, the pure white ruff of the Ruff-neck tipped with scintillating spangles, the suspended and fantastic patches on the tips of the long tails of the Rackets, the glistening surface of the long scissors-shaped tails of the Sylphx the glowing points of the Star-fronts, or the burning lustre of the Fiery Topaz, we see that the high- est possible effect of both form and color is here attained. THE HUMMINGBIRD. 367 Nor do these marvelous manifestations of beauty serve any necessary purpose whatever in the mode of their existence. The theory of "Struggle for Life" certainly affords no explanation of either their origin or their continuance. Here evidently are beauty and ornament for their own sake, and that of the most astounding and transcendent kind. And why should these " Glittering Fragments of the Rainbow " be found only in " the tropical forests " and " amid the rich drapery of the orchids " of the New World, if mere physical causes are to account for their origin ? As we gaze upon these tiny objects of the most delicate and flaming beauty, our aesthetic nature moving us to tears, let us acknowledge that the hand which made them is Divine. The European Sparrow {Passer domesticus), now so com- mon about our houses both in the city and in the country vil- lages, is so well known as to need no description in a work like this. Suffice it to say, it is not a favorite, and the utility of its immigration is doubtful. ■: ji ; i ; t i i t ; CHAPTER XVII. THE FIRST DAYS OF JUNE. WHAT greater charm has the forest than its extensive va- riety of ferns! What a highly-wrought thing of beauty is the pattern of each frond ! In that immense vegetation period in geological history called the coal-age, when no flower breathed its fragrance on the landscape, the immense numbers of magnificent ferns, which have left their imprint in the rocks, assure us, nevertheless, that the world was very beautiful. Of those continents of flowerless plants my imagination is striving to form some conception as I wade through the many varieties of ferns which adorn a low open wood north of the Ridge — a place where I frequently go, these first days of June, in search of birds' nests. THE GOLDEN-WINGED WARBLER. In the center of this grand fernery, the forest is a sort of open grove, letting in the sun with but little obstruction, and thus forming a very paradise for the study of oology. Most birds of the forest shun the gloom and dampness of its more shadowy parts, when locating their nests, and seek out the more or less open spaces, sheltered from the wind and warmed by the sun. Hence I lay me down here, in a fragrant bed of ferns, to listen and observe. On this bright, sunny morning, everything is astir. I am in the midst of a grand concert, which few performances of the human voice. THE GOLDEN-WINGED WARBLER. 369 even, can equal. Thrushes, Warblers, Vireos and Sparrows, all harmonizing finely; while the rumbling strokes of the wings of yon male Partridge and the shrill notes of the Crested Flycatcher come in like a drum and tambourine. I am giving particular attention to a fine, soft tone, sound- ing like tsway, dsay, dsay, dsay„ slowly drawn out, and remind- ing one of the leisurely and pleasing hum of an insect. It is the song of the Golden-winged Warbler {Helminthophaga chrysopterd). Five inches long, the male is a fine slaty-blue above; crown and broad wing-bars, sulphur yellow; cheeks and throat, black; a white line over the eye, and one from the gape backward; under parts grayish-white; outer tail- feathers, marked with white; the female, with all the colors and markings more obscure. Arriving during the second week in May, this species resides with us until September; but it is not numerous, and the nest is by no means easy to find. As I watch the male, pretty well up in a second- growth maple, my attention is arrested by a sharp, chipping note in the thicket just below. Straining my eyes for some minutes, I detect a female Golden-wing, much excited, being in all probability the mate of the one singing. Un- derstanding the excitement and the sharp chipping note as certain evidences of a nest near by, I at once begin search. This is a Ground Warbler, and therefore the nest is, of course, on the ground. After breaking down the ferns and sadly spoiling the beauty of the spot in my thorough but useless search, I retire behind a tree to watch the move- ments of the still excited female. Very soon she drops down from the thicket into an undisturbed spot at the root of a little bush. On creeping up softly, I spy her tail over the edge of the nest, and clapping my hand over her, secure both without difficulty. The nest is uncommonly deep, not very neatly built, outwardly of dried leaves, then of long 24 ■' •' " fr I I If 870 THE GOLDEN-WINGED WARBLER. pieces of rather coarse bark, then of fine strips of the same and stems of dried grasses, and lined with fine hair-like reddish fibers, which must be the inner bark of the wild grape-vine. The eggs, five in number, small, about .48 x .60, scarcely the size of the Goldfinches, are creamish- white, delicately and sparsely specked with brown and lilac at the large end. Wintering in Central America, the Golden-wing's sum- mer range is to New England and Canada West, and west to the Missouri. Its nest has been taken as far south as Georgia. Similar to the last, but richer and darker in color, and having the black patch on the throat much larger, is Law- rence's Warbler {Helminthophaga la'wrencei)^ of which two have been found in New Jersey. Very similar in size and form, as also in general colora- tion, to the Golden-wing, is the White-throated Golden-wing {Helminthophaga leucobronchialis)^ discovered by Wm. Brew- ster in May of 1870, in Newtonville, Mass. His description is as follows: "Crown, bright yellow, slightly tinged with olive on the occiput. Greater and middle wing-coverts yellow, not as bright as the crown. Superciliary line, cheeks, throat and entire under parts, silky-white, with a slight tinge of pale yellow on the breast. Dorsal surface — exclu- sive of the nape which is clear ashy — washed with yellow, as are also the outer margins of the secondaries. • A narrow line of clear black passes from the base of the upper mandible, through and to a short distance behind the eye, interrupted, however, by the lower eye-lid, which is dis- tinctly white." ^ At first it was thought by many to be simply a variety of the Golden-winged Warbler, but up to May, 1879, some nine specimens of the White-throated Golden- wing had been THE MOURNING WARBLER. 871 identiiied, mostly in New England, thus fully differentiating it as a species. Its notes and habits in general are very similar to those of its near relatives. THE MOURNING WARBLER. Seating myself at another point in the vicinity, under the shade of a silky dogwood in full bloom, I study the song of the Mourning Warbler {Geothlypis Philadelphia). This song, which varies considerably with different individuals, may generally be denoted by the syWablts, free, free, free, fruh, fruh — the first three being loud and clear, and the last two, in a lower tone, and so much softer and shorter that a moderate distance, or a slight breeze in the opposite direction, may prevent one from hearing them. Having every opportunity for the study of this song — for the Mourning Warbler is a common summer resident in thiclcets and open places of the woods here — I find little or no re- semblance between it and the melody of the Water-thrush. While I sit watching, the male leaves his place of song in the clump of spice-bushes, and, dropping into the top of some tall cinnamon ferns, meets the female. Well aware how great a desideratum is the nest of this bird, and that it builds on the ground, I begin search on hands and knees with much enthusiasm. I work hard for several hours, till the entire surface for many square rods around has been carefully examined, but find no nest. Mr. Burroughs reports a nest found " in a bunch of ferns, and about six inches from the ground. It was quite a mas- sive nest, composed entirely of the stalks and leaves of dry grass, with an inner lining of fine, dark-brown roots. The eggs, three in number, were of light flesh color, uniformly specked with fine brown specks. The cavity of the nest was so deep that the back of the sitting bird sank below % i':1j ^ II |H il! '> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 l^|2£ MIS u^ lii 12.2 IJ& 1 1.25 |||.4 1^ ■< 6" — ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WnSTIR.N.Y. 14580 (716) •72-4503 ■^T ) \ ^ ■ Ml 372 THE REDSTART. I I the edge." This instance is quite representative of the usual manner of the nesting of this species. Sometimes, how- ever, the nest would seem to be less bulky. It is always well concealed among rubbish, fallen trees, and ferns. The eggs are some .68 X -51, and have been found in this State as late as the I7th of July. Five inches long, the male of this species has the upper parts of a fine olive-green; head, a fine slate-color; throat and breast, black, crossed by delicate concentric lines of slate, caused by a fine fringe of that color on the tips of the feathers, making the dark spot look something like black crape, whence the common name ; the under parts, bright yellow; the female is similar, with the dark patch on the breast almost obliterated.* Wintering in the farthest part of Central America, and even in South America, this bird goes north, in the migra- tions, to the British Provinces, becoming rare, however, in Nova Scotia. It breeds in New Yoriv, New England and northward, arriving in Western New York about the middle of May. THE REDSTART. A few rods off, in a thicker part of the woods, I hear a bird-song, which at this time of year greets me through- out every forest. It is the song of the Redstart {Setophaga ruticilla) ; and, except that it resembles that of the Yellow Warbler, I can compare it to no sound so well as to that of a circular tin-whistle with a hole through the center, which, when held between the lips and teeth and the breath is al- ternately drawn in and blown out, makes a noise with which every one is familiar. Simple as is this comparison, to my ear the song is decidedly pleasing. There is not a little ♦ The female of one pair of these birds, talcen along with the nest by Mr. Bruce, has the white eye-lids, supposed to differentiate Macgillivray's Warbler of the Rocky Mount- ains and the Pacific Coast as rt species, thus suggesting the propriety of regarding the: latter as a mere variety of the former. THE REDSTART. 373 variety in the whistling tones, and the theme is always well modulated. Like all bird-songs, it contains immeasurably more than anything to which it can be likened. A view of this bird is even more gratifying than his song. Something more than 5 inches long, the male is black, sides of the breast, flanks, patches in the wing, and more than the basal half of the tail feathers, except a few in the cen- ter, reddish-orange, or flame-color; under parts from the breast down, white. The female is olivaceous-slate, the markings being bright yellow where the male has the flame- color. Though resembling the Warblers in almost every particular, the bill of the Redstart, in its flat, triangular shape, with notch and hook at the end of the upper mandible and its surrounding bristles, is like that of the Flycatchers. Its habit, too, in taking food, suggests a similar relation. Among the bright foliage of this luxuriant month, he is an object of uncommon beauty. How his glossy black sets off his fiery orange markings as he flits from point to point, spreading his tail with a jerking motion, and assum- ing a great variety of attitudes in rapid succession as he hunts his prey. The sharp chipping notes, mixed in with the varied com- binations of his song, remind me that on the 23d of May, about a week ago, I saw a female building her nest. As a rule among all species of birds, the construction of the nest is the work of the female. The male is the musician, the female the architect. How diligent was this little Redstart in the enterprise. Every few minutes she returned, her mouth full of materials, which she arranged in the most ex- pert manner. The outside completed, she would pitch into the nest to adjust the lining, and turning round and round, pressing her breast against one side and manipulating the other with her feet, a wonderful symmetry and perfection % 5 •V ■ 1 374 THE INDIGO BIRD. was secured in a short time. What human skill and patience could ever construct an object like this ? Placed in a crotch near the top of a young tree or sapling, sometimes between nearly upright limbs and the trunk, anywhere from 6 to 20 feet high, it is compactly woven of fine fibrous materials, fitted together and often ornamented with vegetable down or cottony substances, not infrequently intermixed with the scales of leaf-buds, and lined with the finest of bark and grass-fibers. I have before me a nest, externally much taller than usual, since it contains two Cow-bird's eggs, successively deposited, and built out of sight at different depths, some- thing like the Yellov/ Warbler's Jicst described by Wilson. It also has several feathers, of some small bird's tail, stuck obliquely about half-way into the rim. The eggs, commonly 4, averaging about .66 x .50, are white, more or less specked or spotted all over, but chiefly around the large end, with reddish-brown and lilac. Wintering in the tropics, the Redstart arrives here on the first days of May. It is common in Eastern North America, generally breeding northward. I found it very common in the latitudes of Manitoulin Island and Nova Scotia. ' THE INDIGO BIRD. As I reach a more open part of the woods, seeming almost like a thicket, I get down on hands and knees in a black- berry tangle, to explore its mysteries; and at once espy a bird's nest, built in the declined stems, and sheltered by the thickly-matted tops. At the first glimpse of it, the sitting bird drops down out of sight and skulks off; and as there is so often no certainty in identifying a nest without the bird, I lie down in this miniature arbor, and await her return. Very soon I have a number of calls. A fine male of the THE INDIGO BIRD. 376 Mourning Warbler hops in very gracefully, scans me thoroughly, and leaves, without salutation, remarks upon the weather, or any expression of opinion whatever. Next comes a Yellow-backed Blue Warbler, equally curious and nervous in his movements, and perfectly reticent. Then a Song Sparrow, which, ever since my approach has been keep- ing up a constant racket, to the great alarm of the whole neighborhood, comes within a few feet of me, scolding and jerking his tail in a very unamiable manner. Like certain individuals of another species, he prolongs his call and his loquacity far beyond my pleasure. At length all is quiet, and the owner of the nest appears. It is the female Indigo Bird. A little smaller than a Canary, but almost precisely of the same form and structure, she is of a plain brown, lighter underneath, and dusky on the wings and tail. A fine voiced male, too, is singing near by, which is probably her mate, all unconscious of the peril of his family. His song is quite unique, and therefore easily recognized when once well noted. A sort of hurried warble, quite fluent, and yet seeming to stick in the throat a little, this melody is one of the most common in thickets, along the edges of forests, and about the borders of swamps. Its tones are musical, being loud at first, but growing faint at the last, as if the singer were exhausting his lungs; and it is as likely to be heard in the heat of noon as in the cool of the early morn- ing. The mature male, some 6.75 long, is blue, shading into dark indigo about the head, and tinged with greenish on the back; wings and tail black, edged with blue. This bird is generally finer in the bush, however, than in the hand. As the male requires several years to come to maturity, many are spotted, by the mixing in of dull brown or gray feathers, and so, on examination, appear quite shabby. :.'ii .» 'C m H'i ■ i ' : A ■ i t 1 576 THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. Thus assured as to its identity, I examine the nest. Sev- eral firm, dried leaves are hung hammock-like to the branches of a forked stem of the blackberry bush, then a sort of bedding of skeleton-leaves being added, the rather thick wall of the nest is of fine rootlets and dried grasses, closely laid, and the lining is of fine bark-fibers and horse- hair. Another nest in the vicinity is placed in a low bush, and is similarly made, except that it is heavily ornamented with the bud-scales and dried staminate blossoms of the beech, and made hoary with webby material of various kinds; the lining, too, is of fine dried grasses and a large quantity of black horse-hair. The eggs, three or four, some .75X.55 of an inch, are white, generally more or less trans- lucent, and slightly tinged with blue — said to be sometimes sp>ecked — truly beautiful, especially when laid on a thick lining of black horse-hair. These birds are very uneasy and emit a loud and peculiar chink when the nest is approached. The species ranks with the Sparrows, and is called, in science, Cyanospiza cyanea. "Habitat, eastern Province of the United States — north to Canada and Maine, west to Kansas and Indian ' Territory, south through Texas to Mexico and Central America, where it winters. Breeds throughout most of its United States habitat, from Texas to Canada." (Coues.) THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. From a group of tall trees, there comes a bird-voice, which I find most imperfectly described in the books, namely, that of the Great Crested Flycatcher {Myiarchus crinitus). Its most common note, tiveep — though in a loud, spirited, whistling tone, given with a peculiar emphasis, and ab- ruptly closed — is by no means a harsh squeak, as Wilson and Audubon say, but, as a mere note, is decidedly rich and THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 877 agreeable, calling forth a fine woodland echo, and impress- ing one with the animation, courage and bravery of the bird. Scarcely less agreeable is his rapidly uttered twipy huipy twiPf iwipy twip^ or even his guttural rattling call, equally characteristic. Perched in the rather open top of a tall elm, he appears to the best advantage in the full light of the morning sun. Some 9 inches long, with the strongest out- line of that peculiar form which always marks the Fly- catcher ; standing in a spirited, upright attitude, with crest erected, his upper parts are a fine greenish-olive, throat and upper breast, ash; under parts sulphur-yellow; wings dusky, edged with greenish- white; tail dusky; outer edge of the primaries and under side of the tail, bright reddish-chest- nut. His frequent jerk of the tail, as he sits, otherwise mo- tionless, for some time on the branch, cutting an occasional semicircle in quest of his passing prey, as well as his struct- ure and generally pugnacious disposition — all declare his character as a Flycatcher. This bird is so common in our forests that his notes seem almost identified with the sum- mer landscape. Observing that the greater part of the top of a tall elm in his vicinity is dead, I suspect a nest in some hollow of a broken branch, and putting on my climbers, ascend to the region of dead limbs. I have looked about me pretty thor- oughly without success, and am about to descend, when I notice, some distance out from me, a broken limb about six inches in diameter, and stretching myself along its length, ten or twelve inches within its hollow end, I look into the nest, which contains 6 eggs. Jamming my hand down the passage with much difficulty, I secure the eggs one by one, packing them in leaves in the crown of my hat, and pocket the lining of the nest So much, so good. Now I begin to descend, quite elated over my success. I get about half- ": : .1 878 THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. vray down the perilous height, when lo, some un- friendly bough knocks off my hat, and with a very un- pleasant sensation somewhere about my left side, I note the unlucky curves it makes adown the trunk. All my high satisfaction over my achievement is sinking to the soles of my boots, when, as good luck will have it, the hat closes up against the trunk, supported by an almost upright limb, thus making the entire contents secure. As suddenly my contentment comes back, and in a few moments, seated on terra firma^ I examine my treasures. First the lining of the nest. * Dried leaves, fibers of bark, wool, hair, feathers, the end of a squirrel's tail, and true to the never-failing custom of this bird, cast-off snake's skin. I found a nest in a hollow limb in an old orchard a few days since, with similar nest linings — the material, however, consisting largely of stubble, dried grasses, and pigs' bristles — the different linings placed in the nest from year to year, lying one on the other like so many sauce-plates in a pile, thus showing the number of successive years the place had been occupied. Every lining had the cast-off snake's skin. The eggs, generally 6, some 1.00 X .^S, are strongly differentiated in color. The ground- color being dark cream or buff, scratched and brushed in every direction, but more particularly lengthwise, as if with a pen or fine brush, with a rich brown and lilac. Sometimes the markings are thicker on the large end, but generally they extend equally all over, not infrequently running into blotches. Wintering on the Florida Keys and in the West Indies, this bird arrives in Western New York the first week in May. Common, more especially to the woods, occasionally residing in the orchard, it extends sparingly into New England, rarely beyond the Connecticut Valley, west to Eastern Kansas, northwestward to Cypress Hills in THE FIELD SPARROW. 879 British America, and breeds throughout the Eastern United States. The local distribution of birds is very interesting. Each kind of locality has its own peculiar species. Around our residences, and in the orchard, we find a certain group — the Chipping Sparrow, the Purple Finch, the Kingbird, the Phoebe, the Eave and Barn Swallows. In the op>en field we have another group — the Meadow Lark, the Horned Lark, the Bay-winged Sparrow, the Bobolink ; in the thickets, yet another group — the Field, or, more properly, the Bush Spar- row, the Indigo Bird, the Catbird, the Yellow Warbler ; the forest birds — the Thrushes, the greater part of the Warblers and Flycatchers, and certain of the Fringillida — are quite strictly confined to their peculiar abodes; the swamps afford a large variety, nowhere else to be found, while, as every one knows, the water-birds are more or less attached, by regular laws of distribution, to ponds, streams, rivers, lakes, or to the ocean. In no way is the instinct of birds more certainly made known than in the selection of their local as well as their general habitat. THE FIELD SPARROW. As I approach a thicket — a slashing ^ as it is called here — being a rough piece of ground where the forest has been recently cut away and where the bushes have grown up, I hear the peculiar song of the Field or Bush Sparrow (.5^/- zella pusilld). The notes may be pronouced free-o^ free-Oy free-Oy free-Oy freey freCy freCy freCy frUy fru; the first four loud, well prolonged, and on a higher key, while the re- maining notes run rapidly to a lower pitch, growing softer and weaker to the end, the last being barely perceptible at a short distance. The song is quite constantly repeated at i* ? 880 THE BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO. short intervals, and has a rather melancholy, but soothing and pleasing, effect, which sensitive natures readily recog- nize, and do not easily forget. It is the homely i>ensive poetry of the thicket — that line of land where the culti- vated beauty and fertility of the fields end and the solitude and gloom of the forest begin. The bird is quite shy and retiring, and therefore but little known. A little smaller than the Chipping Sparrow, or some 5.00 inches long, and therefore the smallest of all our Sparrows, it has the usual colors and marking of that group over the back, lacking the bright chestnut on the crown, so peculiar to the Chip- ping and Tree Sparrows, and the striped crown and spotted or streaked breast, either or both of which are common to the rest of the Sparrows. It may therefore be readily identified. The nest, usually placed low in a little bush, sometimes on the ground, is a frail, loose structure which one can look through, mostly of dried grasses and Vootlets, lined with the finest of the grasses, fine shreds of bark from the grape- vine, or horse-hair. The eggs, four or five, some .VOX. 50, are white, sometimes with a slight tinge of greenish or grayish, specked and spotted with a delicate, almost flesh- colored red — really pretty. Wintering from the Carolinas southward, and breeding from the same point northward, these birds reach Western New York about the middle of April, and deposit their eggs late in May or early in June. Becoming rare already in Northern New England, it extends somewhat into the British Provinces. THE BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO. As I pass along, through the thickets, I hear the well- defined notes of the Black-billed Cuckoo — chou, chou, chou^ THE BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO. 881 chou^ and cuckoo^ koo, koo, kooy koo^ koo, and cuek-chou-ou^ by no means musical, but quite pleasing as an odd variety. In a moment he glides by me. What a straightforward, reg^ular, noiseless and graceful flight! It is difficult to get a satisfactory view of this bird amidst our thick summer foliage. He is so noiseless as he, " still hiding, further onward wooes you;" and if he stand stock- still, with head a little on one side, his color is so nearly like that of the bark of the undergrowth, or is such a com- promise between that and the foliage, as to render him ex- ceedingly obscure. No doubt he is very happy in his way, but he does indeed seem " as solitary and joyless as the most veritable anchorite." I creep up to the bush in which he lit, and find a nest, if indeed so slight and rude a structure be worthy of the name — a few twigs laid criss-cross, bits of dried fern, and a few downy catkins of the willow on top — hoiv does the bird get off and on, and keep the eggs and young on this bit of trash? The eggs, some 1.12X.83, are elliptical, and of a beautiful clear or somewhat clouded light green. Arriving after the middle of May, this bird seems to begin incubation almost at once. The callow young are indeed queer-look- ing objects; their skin, which is black as soot, is sparsely set with white thread-like down. The eggs appear to be laid sometimes at very considerable intervals, so that the same nest may contain the young eggs partly incubated, and others fresh. Nearly a foot in length, of which length the oblongly rounded tail constitutes nearly one-half, the upper parts are an elegant, glossy bronze-brown ; tail feathers, except the two central, tipped with white, which joins the main color in a black margin; bill and feet black, eye-lids vermilion, under parts white. Male and female are alike. The young 889 THE YELLOW.BILLED CUCKOO. have the feathers above, tipped with white, and the white underneath grayish. Feeding partly on small fruits, this species is chiefly insectivorous. This Cuckoo {Coccyzus erythrophthalmus)^ abundant in this locality, is a great traveler. Breeding from the Southern States northward even to Labrador, though he may winter in Florida, he sometimes goes even to the valley of the Amazon. As a vagrant, he has been found in Europe. THE VELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO. The Yellow-billed Cuckoo {Coccyzus americanus) is about the size and form of the Black-billed ; and, with the exception of its yellow under mandible, cinnamon edging on the wings and wholly black and white outer tail feathers, is precisely like it in color, habit and vocal performance. It is not very numerous here. Mr. Ringueberg occasionally finds the nest in the vicinity of Lockport, and almost every observer shoots one now and then. The nest is, if possible, even slighter than that of the former species, being, in one case at least, merely a "cotton rag, which was firmly caught in the thorns of a barberry bush." (Minot.) The eggs are a little longer, larger and lighter green; the notes are generally regarded as harsher. The intervals between the depositing of its several eggs are remarkable. Audubon once saw a nest, containing different grades, from young ones ready to fly to eggs perfectly fresh; and ascertained that eleven young cuckoos had been successfully raised from a single nest in the vicinity. It would seem that the Cuckoo is especially noisy during meteorological changes, hence it is called, quite commonly, the " Rain Crow." The Yellow-bill is a more southern and western bird than the Black-bill, breeding throughout the United States, but becoming rare, or absent entirely, as we approach our north- THE NIGHT HAWK. 383 ern limits. It is also rare on the Pacific Coast. Though said to winter in Florida, it goes even to Buenos Ayres in its migrations, and has accidentally strayed to Europe. Both our Cuckoos are somewhat nocturnal in their habits. I have heard the loud notes of the Black-bill in the orchard, a few rods from my study window, at a very late hour of the night. The American Cuckoo is not usually parasitic, after the manner of its Europe^'i ongener. . The Mangrove Cuckoo {Coccy >(s semiculus), found in Florida and the West Indies, is a little smaller than the above species, and similar ' its markiiig and coloration to the Yellow-billed Cuckoo, except chat its lower mandible is pale orange-bt own, and its outer tail feathers are not tipped with white. THE NIGHT HAWK. As I emerge from the thicket into the open pasture, a so- called Night Hawk {Chordeiles virginianus) Hies up, almost from under my feet, and moving in an irregular, zig/ag manner, alights lengthwise on the fence. In this near prox- imity, both in flight and in repose, he is a weird looking object. His odd way of perching lengthwise is supposed to be an accommodation to his feet and legs, which would seem too small and weak to support him crosswise. As he starts from the ground and darts this way and that, as if somewhat confused, the large, clear white markings of his wings and tail are very conspicuous, and sharply defined by the dark mottling of his general color. By no means abundant in this locality, the Night Hawk may be found from early in May till early in autumn, about the low grounds north of the Pvidge. In Northern New England and in the British Provinces it is very abundant, and be- comes a most conspicuous object in the summer landscape. Mr. Samuels reports it so numerous at a place in Maine, §1 ;i ''^t 384 THE NIGHT HA WK. called Wilson's Mills, that "in the space of every, four or five rods, a female was sitting on her eggs." Indeed, one of the most vivid impressions received in many parts of that north- ern latitude, on a summer's evening, is that of the loud peeping and booming of vast numbers of these birds. This evening flight is really fine. The regular beat of the long pointed wings, now faster, now slower, the bird mounting a little higher, and uttering its characteristic/^^ with each accelerated beating of the wings, is somewhat like that of our smaller Hawks, the Sharp-shinned, for instance ; while the graceful tipping of the body from side to side, as it moves in a continued series of curves, affords a still further resemblance. Notwithstanding this analogy to Hawks in flight, however, the Night Hawk in structural affinity is no Hawk at all, but a sort of crepuscular Swift, flying earlier indeed in cloudy weather, and sometimes even in the bright- est sunshine, but generally retiring during all the fore and middle part of sunny days. Its flight is generally rapid and high, sometimes seeming to be almost among the clouds, where its frequent motions in the capture of insects show how elevated a part, at least, of the entomological world is. The most characteristic act in the flight of the male is his loud and indescribable boom- ing, as he drops head foremost from his more or less ele- vated position, and, with stiffened wings, the tips pointing downward, cuts a long, abrupt curve. This sound, which Wilson compared to " that produced by blowing strongly into the bunghole of an empty hogshead," he thought was caused " by the sudden expansion of his capacious mouth while passing through the air." Audubon thought it was somehow produced by the wings. The latter would seem to be the more probable conjecture, as one can always see a change in the wings as the noise is going on. The exact THE NIGHT HA WK. 385 manner of producing the sound, however, we shall never know till some ethereal personage can take his point of ob- servation high in air, and, without alarming the bird, note exactly its method. The booming is mostly confined to the breeding season, though it is sometimes heard in autumn. These birds do not confine themselves to insect-food ob- tained in the upper air, but also search the ground. Wilson shot them on the 14th of August, with their stomachs al- most exclusively filled with crickets. From one of them he took " nearly a common snuff-box full of these insects, all seemingly fresh swallowed." I have also good evidence that in the more northern localities, they regale themselves on ripe currants. Nine inches long, the Night Hawk is black or dusky above, variously mottled with brown and brownish-white, with narrow black and whitish rings below, the male having white markings in the wings and forked tail, and a rather large triangular or crescent-shaped white spot on the breast, the female having smaller white markings in the wings only, and a reddish mark on the breast. The two eggs of the Night Hawk, placed on the ground in some open pasture or thicket — a burnt spot seems pref- erable, as harmonizing best with the color, alike of the eggs and of the bird without a nest — sometimes on the flat roof of a house in a city, are about 1.25 x -88, elliptical, the ground of grayish or creamy-white, being thickly specked and spotted all over with a greenish-brown and several shades of lilac. The eggs are generally laid early in June, but I have seen the young, not yet fully fledged, as late as July 21st, thus indicating, perhaps a second brood. The summer range of this bird is from Central North America to Hudson's Bay, while its winter migrations may 25 hi ! I 889 THE WHIPPOORWILL. extend to the West India Islands and Brazil, winter within the Union. It does not THE WHIPPOORWILL. The gorgeous hues of sunset have faded into the deep dusk of twilight. I have been listening to a grand concert at this close of day, in and around a large tract of wood- land on these low grounds north of the Ridge. As the songs of Thrushes, Warblers and Finches die out, the still- ness is broken by a loud call, commonly described as ** Whip-poor-will" but which to my ear sounds more like the syllables, chick-koo-rhee. The call is rapidly and earnestly repeated a number of times, the first syllable, but more especially the last, being emphasized. The vocal perform- ance is kept up at intervals during the night, and starts up afresh about day-break. Strictly local in its distribution, and partial to swamps and low lands, the Whippoorwill {Antrostomus vociferus) must be numerous here, for I can detect its weird call in some half-dozen directions about the thicket, and in the edge of the woods which it skirts. I creep stealthily in this direction and that, as nearly as I can locate the sound, hoping to get a glimpse of this strange bird of the night, before daylight is entirely gone. I seem to hear him exactly in that red osier bush covered with its snowy blos- soms, and strain my eyes to define his form, but in vain. I move up a little closer, but presently the sound ceases at that point, and starts up somewhere else. Thus I am tan- talized, like one following the will-o' -the-whisp. I spend days in succession about this spot, but cannot get the first glimpse of the bird, nor any sound of it, except at night. Nine inches and a half long, the Whippoorwill bears so strong a resemblance to the Nl^ht Hawk, that they were THE WHIPPOORWILL. 387 once supposed to be the same. The difference is mainly as follows: The Whippoorwill is some half an inch longer, has a rounded tail, whereas that of the Night Hawk is forked, has a much longer and more pointed wing than the latter, and has a plentiful supply of long bristles protrud- ing from the inside of the mouth. " It lays on the ground, in the woods, constructing no proper nest, and depositing only two eggs. These are elliptical, nearly or quite equal at both ends, about 1.25x0.85, and are curiously scratched and mottled all ovc with brown surface markings and paler purplish-gray shell colors upon a whitish ground. The egg is quite variable in amount of intensity of coloration, some specimens being heavily marbled, while others appear as if faded or bleached, from indistinctness of the tracery." (Coues.) This sly bird of the night inhabits Eastern North Amer- ica generally up to SC, wintering from the Gulf Coast south- ward, and breeding in most of its summer range. Chuck-will's-widow {Antrostomus carolinensis) is a closely allied member, along with the Night Hawk and Whippoor- will, of the Capritnulgidce family, and is found in the South- ern States generally. It is similar to its relatives just de- scribed in color and general appearance, but is nearly twice as large. Our Night Hawk, Whippoorwill and Chuck-will's-widow, belong to the Caprimulgida family, w^hich, in its broadest sense, includes quite a variety of structural peculiarities and is represented throughout the world, particularly in South America; but, in the more restricted sense of the sub-family, Caprimiilginm^ is well represented by our two genera, Antrostomus and Chordciles. It is this latter group, therefore, which we shall especially notice. As we have observed, they are, for the most part, creatures of the 1 1 1 1 ; ■; I I I: I H 't "•I '■ '..• ' 388 THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. twilight and of the night, and as such, to some extent, re- semble the Owls; as in the size and shape of the head — the very diminutive and weak bill excepted — in the soft, loose texture, and sombre colors of the plumage, and in nocturnal habits; while zoologically, particularly in the shape of the wing and mouth, they are more closely allied to the Swifts. Thus combining crepuscular and nocturnal habits with great swiftness of flight, and a bat-like quickness in their evolutions, as also a most capacious mouth, extending to the sides of the head and in most cases thickly supplied with long, stifif bristles, these Night Swallows or Swifts are especially adapted, as they " quarter the air " in every direction, to the destruction of nocturnal insects. From an erroneous notion in respect to the habits of the European representative of this class of birds, the English call it " Goatsucker," in accordance with its old Latinized Greek name, Caprimulgus. The French, however, call it by a name, which means wind-swallower, and also by another, which means flying toad. Thus from some fact or resemblance, fancied or real, the various objects in natural history are made to bear names, which, both in common and scientific nomenclature, sig- nalize them, either truly or falsely, for many generations at least, and perhaps through all time. THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. Returning home near night, by way of the Ridge, just as a severe rain-storm is setting in, I come to the pass of Oak Orchard Creek. Here is a large stone building which was once a distillery. Around the top of the enor- mous brick chimney, which towers up from this building, is an immense cloud of many hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Chimney Swifts {Chcetura pelagica). They are whirling THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 389 and gyrating in swift evolutions, the whole body moving in the same direction like a feathered whirlpool, their wing^ beating with astonishing rapidity, and the volume of their sharp twitter being almost deafening. As the black cloud keeps whirling, becoming more dense as it nears the chimney-top, every few minutes a section of the great host drops into it. I watch them till by far the greater number have thus disappeared. This is a common scene about the old distillery, and may occur from the time of the arrival of these birds, about the last of April or the first of May, till the time of their departure in September. Thinking that this chimney must be a breeding place, I kept watch of it from an opening below, which gave a full view of the whole interior, but not a nest could I at any time detect. Evi- dently it was only a grand place of rendezvous, such as these birds occasionally discover in various parts of our coun- try. Both Wilson and Audubon cite instances of immense numbers, even millions, resorting to some large hollow tree as a lodging place, and issuing from it at the break of day, in clouds, making a noise like thunder. This Swift was formerly called a Swallow, on account of certain general resemblances. In its more important details of affinity, however, it is now regarded by ornithologists as coming between the Whippoorwills, and the Hum- mingbirds. This arrangement in classification may show the general reader how wide and deep are the gaps between some of the families of our birds. As the chimney of the old distillery continues to be the rendezvous of the Swifts throughout the season, although in diminished numbers during the time of nidification, I con- clude that it is a place of general resort for the males, and also, perhaps, for such females as are not engaged in reproduction. This view, I find, accords with that of ornithologists in general. ^ U 890 THE CHIMNEY SWIFT, In the uncultivated condition of the country, this bird placed its nest in a hollow tree, but, being one of those birds which have taken advantage of the conveniences of civilization, it now resorts to the chimney, where, though perhaps somewhat discommoded by soot and occasionally by smoke, it is the freest possibly from all its enemies. Look in, through the stove-pipe hole of that large, old-fash- •ioned chimney, and behold that cute little basket of a nest! About the size of one-half of an ordinary sauce-dish, it seems tipped up against its sooty wall, and holds long, translucent white eggs (.80X.48), of which the fresh yolks appear most elegant through the shell, and close up to it. How pretty they look on those freshly-broken twigs, severed from the tree by the bird in flight, and glued together with saliva! Scarcely could they have a finer setting than is afforded by that exquisite bit of rustic architecture, remind- ing us, in the midst of our artificial civilization, of the free elegance of primeval life. Never shall I forget how I was startled from a sound sleep, one black night of a fearful thunder-storm, by a nest of full-grown Swifts which had fallen to the bottom of a bracket-chimney, and were squalling and beating their wings against the wall-paper, stretched like a drum-head across a stove-pipe hole. It sounded like a flock of winged imps in the central space of the room. "The glue-like substance," constituting so important a part in the nest-structure, is a viscid matter secreted by glands in each side of the head of the bird and mixed with its saliva. This is a common product of the Swifts, and is especially noted in the case of the edible nest of the Sea Swallow of the Malay archipelago. " It gathers from the coral rocks of the sea a glutinous weed or vmx\x\% fuscus^ which it swallows and afterward disgorges, and then applies this THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 391 vomit with its plastic bill to the sides of deep caverns, both inland and on the seacoast, to form its nest. When com- plete the nest is a hollow hemisphere, of the dimensions of an ordinary coffee-cup. When fresh made it is of waxy whiteness, and is then esteemed most valuable." This in- sipid thing of Chinese soups is gathered, at a fearful peril of life, from the caves of the coast of I