PORTRAITS AND HABITS OF OUR BIRDS Portraits and Habits of Our Birds Prepared by Various Authors Edited by T. Gilbert Pearson Illustrated with Fifty Colored Plates by Louis Agassiz Fuertes, R. Bruce Horsfall, Edmund J. Sawyer, Allan Brooks, and R. I. Brasher; also Thirty-one Photo- graphs and Drawings from Nature Volume II National Association of Audubon Societies New York City 1921 COPYRIGHT BY NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES PRINTED BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY GARDEN CITY NEW YORK FOREWORD IT is a fact well known to field naturalists that in the heavily forested lands of North America comparatively few birds are to be seen. The conditions of life are such that ordinarily far more are found where a portion of the land is under cultivation. The diversified crops, weeds, plants, fruit-bearing shrubs and trees, with their attendant hoards of insects found in and about culti- vated regions all tend to make more favorable living conditions for wild birds. In sections, therefore, where open fields are inter- spersed with thickets, grown-up fence rows, orchards and small areas of woodlands, and the country traversed with streams, one will generally find bird life more abundant. Then, too, in the set- tlements men have destroyed many of the smaller animals and snakes that prey upon birds. Any species of wild life provided with abundant food and insured against an excessive loss from the depredations of its enemies will increase in numbers. Undoubtedly the farm-land birds of North America have greatly increased since the discovery and settlement of the continent. Only those that could be, and have been, commercialized have suffered particularly from the hands of man. Passenger Pigeons are extinct because they were shot, trapped and netted to extermina- tion for food and for sport. Many game birds have been threat- ened with a like fate. Egrets and some other so-called birds of plumage, are rare to-day because of past demands for their feathers by the millinery trade. Despite the fact that numerous species have largely increased over their former numbers there is yet the greatest need for their still further increase. Our rapidly growing agricultural interests have resulted in vastly enlarging the varieties and numbers of injurious insects that prey upon the growing crop and the harvested products. The National Association of Audubon Societies is intensely inter- ested in this phase of conservation and wishes to use every legitimate means of bringing the subject of protecting our economically valu- able birds again and again to the attention of the public. This book, being Volume II of the series which it is hoped to continue, is being brought out and offered at cost in the hope that it will further stimulate interest in American bird protection. In this Volume there may be found discussions of the lives and habits of birds representing eleven of the seventeen Orders inhabit- ing North America. GILBERT PEARSON. TABLE OF CONTENTS SPOTTED SANDPIPER Herbert K. Job 201 LEAST AND SEMTPALMATED SANDPIPERS . . Herbert K. Job 205 HORNED LARK Edward Howe Forbush 209 SNOWY EGRET T. Gilbert Pearson 213 DOWNY WOODPECKER T. Gilbert Pearson 217 RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD . . Mabel Osgood Wright 221 YELLOW-HEADED BLACKBIRD. . . . Thomas S. Roberts 225 CALIFORNIA QUAIL Joseph Mailliard 229 NUTHATCHES Francis H. Allen 233 WILLOW PTARMIGAN Joseph Grinnell 237 CHICKADEE. . - Edward Howe Forbush 241 HUDSONIAN CURLEW A. C. Bent 245 RUFFED GROUSE George Bird Grinnell 249 EMPEROR GOOSE Edward W. Nelson 253 CRESTED AUKLET Charles Haskins Townsend 257 GREEN HERON T. Gilbert Pearson 261 ALASKA LONGSPUR Edward W. Nelson 265 BROWN THRASHER T. Gilbert Pearson 269 TUFTED PUFFIN William Leon Dawson 273 CATBIRD Witmer Stone 277 TUFTED TITMOUSE . . . . Florence Merriam Bailey 281 WOOD THRUSH T. Gilbert Pearson 285 WHIP-POOR-WILL T. Gilbert Pearson 289 ROSEATE SPOONBILL Frank M. Chapman 293 SORA Edward Howe Forbush 297 PINTAIL Herbert K. Job 301 CROW T. Gilbert Pearson 305 LOON Arthur H, Norton 309 TOWHEE T. Gilbert Pearson 313 CHIPPING SPARROW T. Gilbert Pearson 317 KINGBIRD T. Gilbert Pearson 321 BALD EAGLE T. Gilbert Pearson 325 SURF SCOTTER T. Gilbert Pearson 329 SHOVELLER T. Gilbert Pearson 333 CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER . . . . T. Gilbert Pearson 337 REDSTART T. Gilbert Pearson 341 VEERY T. Gilbert Pearson 345 AVOCET T. Gilbert Pearson 349 BLACK-NECKED STILT T. Gilbert Pearson 353 Table of Contents PAGE ENGLISH SPARROW . . . . . . . T. Gilbert Pearson 357 SAGE GROUSE . . . ..... . T. Gilbert Pearson 361 WHITE-THROATED SPARROW . „ , . T. Gilbert Pearson 365 PHOEBE T. Gilbert Pearson 369 PILEATED WOODPECKER . . . . . T. Gilbert Pearson 373 RAVEN T. Gilbert Pearson 377 SLATE-COLOBED JUNCO T. Gilbert Pearson 381 LEAST TERN .• . T. Gilbert Pearson 385 LEAST BITTERN T. Gilbert Pearson 389 RED-EYED VIREO T. Gilbert Pearson 393 TURKEY VULTURE T. Gilbert Pearson 397 ILLUSTRATIONS COLORED PLATES FACING PAGE AUKLET, CRESTED 258 AVOCET 350 BITTERN, LEAST 390 BLACKBIRD, YELLOW-HEADED 226 CATBIRD 278 CHICKADEE, BLACK-CAPPED 242 <-€ROW 306 CURLEW, HUDSONIAN 246 EAGLE, BALD 326 EGRET, SNOWY. . . . ' 214 GOOSE, EMPEROR 254 GROUSE, RUFFED 250 GROUSE, SAGE 362 HERON, GREEN 262 HUMMINGBIRD, RUBY-THROATED 222 JUNCO, SLATE-COLORED 382 KINGBIRD 322 LARK, HORNED 210 LONGSPUR, ALASKAN 266 LOON 310 NUTHATCHES, WHITE-BREASTED, AND RED-BREASTED . . . 234 PHQEBE ' . 370 PINTAIL 302 PTARMIGAN, WILLOW 238 PUFFIN, TUFTED 274 QUAIL, CALIFORNIA 230 * -RAVEN 378 REDSTART 342 SANDPIPERS, LEAST AND SEMTPALMATED 206 SANDPIPER, SPOTTED 202 SCOTER, SURF 330 . SHOVELLER ;......... 334 SORA 298 SPARROW, CHIPPING 318 SPARROW, ENGLISH . 358 • SPARROW, WHITE-THROATED 366 SPOONBILL, ROSEATE 294 Illustrations FACING PAGE STILT, BLACK-NECKED 354 TERN, LEAST 386 THRASHER, BROWN 270 THRUSH, WOOD 286 TITMOUSE, TUTTED 282 TOWHEE 314 VEERY 346 VIREO, RED-EYED 394 VULTURE, TURKEY 398 -WARBLER, CHESTNUT-SIDED 338 WHIP-POOR-WILL 290 WOODPECKER, DOWNY 218 WOODPECKER, PILEATED . 374 PHOTOGRAPHS AND DRAWINGS PAGE AUKLETS, at nesting place. Photographed by C. H. Townsend 258 AVOCET, nest and eggs. Photographed by H. T. Bohlman. 351 AVOCET on nest. Photographed by H. T. Bohlman. . . 349 BITTERN, LEAST, "freezing" . 389 • BLACKBIRDS, Yellow-headed and nest. Photographed by T. S. Roberts 225 CATBIRD and Nest 277 CHICKADEE, YOUNG. Photographed by H. K. Job . . . 241 CROW on Nest 307 EAGLE, BALD, Nest 325 EGRET, SNOWY, at Nest. Photographed by O. E. Baynard . 213 HUMMINGBIRD, RUBY-THROATED on nest 221 JUNCO 381 KINGBIRD'S Nest and Eggs. Photographed by A. D . Whedon 321 LOON and nest. Photographed from Museum Group . . 311 PHOEBE on nest 369 PINTAILS in flight. Photographed by H. K. Job .... 302 REDSTART and Nest ... 341 SANDPIPER, LEAST, just Hatched. Photographed by H. K. Job 205 SANDPIPER, SPOTTED, on Nest. Photographed by H. K. Job 204 SPARROW, CHIPPING. Photographed by J. W. Lippincott. 317 STILT, BLACK-NECKED, Nesting Haunts 355 TERN, LEAST Feeding Mate. Photographed by E. H. For- bush 385 THRUSH, WOOD, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish 285 THRUSH, WOOD, YOUNG. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish 287 TOWHEE Feeding Young Cowbirds 315 VEERY on Nest 345 Illustrations PAGE VIREO, RED-EYED, on nest. Photographed by F. M. Chap- man 393 VULTURE, TURKEY, YOUNG. Photographed by T. H. Jackson 397 WARBLER, CHESTNUT-SIDED on Nest. Photographed by H.K.Job 337 WOODPECKER, DOWNY. Photographed by C. E. Purple. . 217 WOODPECKER, DOWNY. . Drawing of Bill and Tongue. . 220 THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER By HERBERT K. JOB THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 51 The sight of a shore-bird has always given me a peculiar thrill. In my boyhood I associated their bands with outings in summer or autumn on the seacoast, when I tramped for miles over stretches of firmly-packed sand by the booming surf on "the backside of the Cape" (Cape Cod), or explored great salt marshes, luxuriating in briny odors and listening ea-erly for the pipings of an approaching flock. An added charm of im>tery and travel lingered about these waifs, which were more at-home on the shores of the Arctic Sea than on beaches made commonplace by hotels and merrymakers. They seemed to carry, like the lass of the proverb, a "delicate air," so clean, so trim, so grace- . _ ful were they. Thus the Spotted Sandpiper, as one gh re bird of thtrse shore-birds, always brings to my imagination a sweet little whiff of the sea-breeze; even in a potato-field it is a blessed shore-bird still, and calls up impressions of the whole fascinating tribe. In many parts of the country the race of shore-birds would now be unknown — have vanished like lost arts and extinct races — were it not for our dear little "Teeter," the Spotted Sandpiper, which is by far the commonest and most widely distributed shore-bird in North America to-day. In answer to the inquiry as to where it is found, I would ask the opposite question : Where is it not found ? This is not to assert that it is swarming in every locality. Far from it, alas ! But there is hardly a place on the continent, except in deep forest, where one need be sur- prised to run across it. Like most other shore-birds, the Spotted Sandpiper is a great traveler. One would hardly suspect the little pair, settled down for the summer so tamely in a quiet farm-pasture, of being restless, and of craving the excitement of foreign travel; yet, for aught we can tell, these may be the selfsame birds that a certain explorer met last winter away down in Peru, or Bolivia, or southern Brazil. F They are erratic in their movements and desires. ^j. Though many of them remain in the Northern States well into October, other individuals show themselves by the end of July in the West Indies, Venezuela, or in Mexico. The returning tourists appear in northern Florida near the end of March ; but it takes them more than a month to travel to the vicinity of Xew York, for there are no dining-cars on the routes they patronize, and they work their passage in thorough and lei-urely fashion. 901 202 The Spotted Sandpiper Our little friend is readily recognized. As it runs along the ground, or by the margin of a pool or stream, you know it is a sandpiper from its characteristic gait. All sandpipers are clad in grays and browns above, and in white below ; but the Spotted Sandpiper, in adult plumage, has conspicuous streaks and spots sprinkled over the white plumage of the underparts. The young bird of the first summer and fall, however, is only indefinitely gray on the breast and sides. It is almost never at rest, for it has contracted a nervous habit of tilting its body incessantly. Standing on the shore, it bows, bobs, jerks, tilts its body, yes, "teeters," \ve may call it. When it flies, too, it proclaims its Attitudes and . . „, . . . , , t , ' f . Flight identity. The wings are held below the level of the back with the tips well down, and are given a tremu- lous, hovering motion, accompanied by loud cries of peet-weet, peet-zueet. These traits have given this bird the names by which it is better known than by its book-name, such as Teeter, Tip-up, Peet-weet, and so on. I dislike, however, to record local names of birds, and thus help to perpetuate them and the confusion they cause, for it would be much better if every one of our birds was known by one generally accepted name. The Spotted Sandpiper does not ask for the spacious lakes or broad streams that many of its tribe require. The merest puddle or rill will satisfy this species, and often we may run across it even in a dry pasture or on a piece of ploughed land. Just a little wetness of low ground may recommend a place as suitable for a summer home. Yet the bird is far from averse to more water. One is almost sure to find it running along the margin of a pond, lake, or river ; and the ocean-beach, particu- larly when rocky, is attractive to it. In such places, when the nesting- season is over, and the young are able to take care of themselves, we may meet these Sandpipers in family parties, or in small flocks, not in compact bodies, like various other sandpipers, but scattered ; and single ones are sometimes found associated with flocks of other species. When alarmed, the scattered company springs suddenly Parties from the shore, circles out over the water, with rever- berating peet-iveet cries, and returns to a spot not very far from the starting point. On the small inland waters there is but one species with which this could readily be confused. This is the Solitary Sandpiper, a bird not at all plentiful, which appears, usually singly or in pairs, as a migrant in May, and again in August and September. A careful observer readily may learn to distinguish them. Once I had a fine opportunity to see both species together and note the differences. It was late in July, on Lake Chautauqua, New York, on the grounds of the Chautauqua Institution. The bird-study class was out before breakfast, and was delighted to see a flock of shore-birds resting on a sand-flat, among them Spotted Sand- pipers and several Solitary Sandpipers. Behind some large trees we made a close approach, and could see distinctly that the Solitary Sandpipers were a trifle larger than the Spotted Sandpipers, were darker on the back, SPOTTED SANDPIPER Left-hand figure, young: right-hand figure, adult (One-half natural site) Order— Li MICOL* Famlly-ScoLOPACio* Genus— ACTITIS Species— MACULARIA National Association of Audubon Societies The Spotted Sandpiper 203 and had green legs instead of yellowish ones; they were also quieter in voice and manner than the latter. During the last half of May at Chautauqua we are likely to happen on early nests of the Spotted Sandpiper. The site most likely to be se- lected by this bird is under a bunch of weeds, or in the shelter of coarse grass, a few yards or rods back from the shore of a pond or stream ; but often the chosen spot will be in a moist pasture, or even in a field of potatoes or corn. Time and again I have found nests on islands, both in lakes and in the ocean, sometimes a dozen or twenty on one islet. Some nests are concealed very carefully, amid thick foliage, while others are merely in the shade of some straggling weed. The best con- cealment for the eggs is afforded by the demure little brownish mother- bird whose plumage blends perfectly with the color of the ground as she sits motionless upon her treasure; but let one walk too close, and away she goes, uttering her shrill pect-u'eet alarm. Then the secret is out, and the trespasser may examine the four eggs, large for the size of the bird, whose creamy-white background is plentifully sprinkled with dark brown spots, especially at the larger end. One day, early in June, my wife and son were following an over- grown cart-path, just in from the bank of the river, when they flushed one of these Sandpipers from a nest with four eggs situated under a small clump of weeds. Close to it was a pile of slag _. , , Photographing and rock, dumped from an old foundry many years a Sandpiper before. It seemed to me, when I examined it, an ideal place to secure photographs of the bird on her nest. So I piled slag and weed over the camera, and, connecting a'thread with the shutter, I hid myself behind a thicket of bushes some fifteen yards off. In a few moments the little Sandpiper appeared, trotting about and jerking her body, I thought, even more nervously than usual. She hesitated for some minutes till she felt assured that I had gone. Then she walked straight to her nest, going within a foot or two of the camera, which she failed to notice at all, so well was it concealed. When she reached the eggs she settled over them at once, bristling her feathers and pushing her treasures with bill and wings this way and that till everything was arranged to her satisfaction. Then came my chance, and I pulled the thread gently, taking her picture. Even the „ slight click of the shutter sent her off in a hurry, but Sandpipers she came back several times for me, and then I left her in peace. She safely brought off her young, and afterwards I met them scurrying along the margin of the river. As with all baby shore-birds, the young Spotted Sandpipers are quaint and amusing. They look like tufts of cotton stuck up on tooth- picks as they race over the sand, attempting to escape when discovered. First, though, when a stranger approaches, they squat flat on the shore, or hide in the grass. The parents throw themselves on the ground before 204 The Spotted Sandpiper their supposed enemy, and "make believe" to be wounded, so as to decoy him away from the young; and they are apt, in their solicitude, to alight in all sorts of places, even upon trees or bushes. P Service A SPOTTED SANDPIPER SETTLING UPON HER EGGS Photographed by Herbert K. Job The usual food of most shore-birds is aquatic insects ; but the Spotted Sandpiper is also a bird of fields and pastures, and therefore its range of insect-food is wider than most of its tribe, and includes grasshoppers and locusts. Probably almost anything in the insect line is acceptable, and thus it is a most useful bird to farmers: indeed, our shore-birds are not given credit enough for the good that ^ey cl° to agriculture. The Killdeer, Upland Plover, and Spotted Sandpiper should be classed with the Meadowlark and Bobolink, and not be put in the game-bird class at all. The ruthless way that the shore-birds have been exterminated is truly shameful. It is high time to give all the shore-birds protection, lest species after species, now seldom seen, go to a sad extinction. Classification and Distribution The spotted Sandpiper belongs to the Order Limicola and the Family Scolofiacidce — Snipes and Sandpipers. Its scientific name is Actitis macularia. It ranges over the whole continent, and breeds from Alaska and the wilderness about Hudson Bay south to the borders of Mexico ; and it winters from the Gulf States to southern Brazil. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. LEAST SANDPIPER AND SEMIPALMATED SANDPIPER By HERBERT K. JOB THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 52 These two dainty little Sandpipers, smallest of their tribe, may well be considered our representative shore-birds. The nocking of restless bands of nimble sprites along the sea-coast and the larger inland bodies of water is one of the most attractive sights in nature. Such a species as the Spotted Sandpiper, though commonly seen running along streams during its summer stay, does not gather in large and compact flocks ; so that it is rather through the Least and -the Semipalmated Sandpipers that the majority of persons who see shore-birds at all become familiar with the pretty company that races along and across the beach, chased A LEAST SANDPIPKK JUST HATCHED Photographed in the Magdalen Islands by Herbert K. Job by the waves, and with their masterly flight. The larger shore-birds, alas! have been pretty well shot off, and in most parts of the country are found, if at all, in small numbers, only in favorable spots, and by the initiated. These tiny species that we are now considering remain the commonest of their family, because the least attractive to gunners. They are too small for food purposes, and no one deserving of the name of sportsman will, in these days, fire at their diminished ranks. Nevertheless, they are in nothing like their former abundance. Instead of the flocks of hundreds with which I was formerly familiar, two dozen now is a large flock in many places, and rarely enough at that. 206 Two Sandpipers There is a peculiar charm connected with the migrations of these birds. They are so tiny and delicate, yet withal so strong and sure in their flight, so able to dash with amazing swiftness past coasts and over the trackless ocean, and to reach the extremes of continents. They come in April or May, according to latitude, with the aroma of the tropics, and return in late July to September with the tang of the arctic wild. In the southward flight, the Semipalmated goes as far as Patagonia, while the other is known to reach Chile. Some winter as far north aa the Carolinas, and I have found them com- Aligrations ' _. . . mon on the coast of Louisiana in. January, tor breeding, they wing their way mostly far northward, even to the shores of the Arctic' Ocean, but some remain further south. The Semipalmated probably breeds in the Saskatchewan, Valley, and is said to do so com- monly along the southern and western shores of Hudson Bay. The Least breeds sparingly on Sable Island and elsewhere in Xova Scotia, on the Magdalen Islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and northward. In migration, it is found over the entire continent, while the Semipalmated species remains mostly east of the Rocky Mountains. While I have not been privileged to study the Semipalmated Sand- piper on its breeding-grounds, I have had good opportunities with the other species. As both are said to be much alike in their nesting habits, an account of those of the Least Sandpiper may suffice for both. It was on the Magdalen Islands that I first became intimate with this wee sandpiper. To appreciate the conditions, one must imagine a barren, open expanse, with a temperature cool, even in midsummer, and plenty of chilling fog. For miles it is moist ground, carpeted with sparse grass and spongy moss, and diversified with occasional patches of stunted spruce or low, sprawling juniper. Billowy elevations of sand- dune in the distance are overgrown with beach grass. In these lower parts are numerous shallow lakes, from a few yards across to a mile long, the larger ones with borders and areas of reeds or rushes. Small parties of Least Sandpipers, or single ones, probably Home" males, feed beside these lakes or pools. The females are closely brooding their eggs, which here on the Magdalens are laid during the first half of June, when the temperature of the air is about 50° F. The experience of finding the first nest of this little arctic bird will always be memorable. As we tramp over the dark arctic moss, we notice a pretty little twittering, and discover a tiny Sandpiper flying around in wide circles on tremulous wings, pouring forth the music that presents the emotions of his little heart. It is the love-song to his mate, who is covering the eggs not far away. We long to find the bird- treasure, and tramp all about, hoping to flush the brooding bird. Our wish is gratified. Inadvertently we have almost trodden on the nest. Away flutters the tiny bird, almost from under our feet, not in rapid flight, but dragging herself over the grass as if she were almost expiring. The nest is a rather deep little hollow in the moss, lined with grass and LEAST SANDPIPER (Upper figure) SEMIPALMATED SANDPIPER (Lower figure) (One-half natural size) Order— Li Micelle Family— SCOLOPACID^ PlSOBIA MINUT1LLA (upper fig.) ERBUNBTBS PUSIU.US llOWCr fig.) National Association of Audubon Societies Two Sandpipers 207 bayberry leaves. The four pear-shaped eggs look very dark — a drab background, heavily mottled with brown or black. Madam soon returns with her husband, and Iwtli trot around near by, piping their complaints at our intrusion. On one memorable occasion, by setting my camera focused on the nest, I obtained a picture of the brooding mother. The chicks are the daintiest little mites that one can imagine — little brown balls mottled with white, and comical enough they are, perched up on the rather long, slender stems that pass for legs. Frequently they are hatched in the wet pasture-land close to the cottages of the fish- ing settlements. While walking along the road and approaching the house where we were stopping. I saw a pair of these Sandpipers acting as if very anxious, alighting on the posts and top wire of the fence, piping their complaints. Well did I know what was if 1.11 T r j , r A Sandpiper up, and after a considerable hunt I found the four Nursery chicks lying close together, flat on the ground. The little Sandpiper might not be averse to civilization, if unmolested; but what chance does such a brood have near houses against prowling cats ! The nesting season of these Sandpipers — and, for that matter, of all the shore-birds — is very brief. Such small species do not take long to mature. Thus surprisingly early in the summer, often soon after the middle of July, they begin to straggle back to us, as if the arctic wilder- ness were too cold and lonely to interest them longer. As far as I am familiar with the shore-birds the adults precede the young on the southward migration, leaving their guileless broods to follow as best they may. In species where differences of plumage be- tween old and young are conspicuous, this is very noticeable. The adults of the Ringneck or Semipalmated Plover, for instance, pass us in Xew Hn^land mostly in August, and seldom do we see the pale-banded young- sters before September. The Golden and Black-bellied Plovers have a similar practice. But how do these unsophisticated young of the Sand- pipers find their way to their unknown habitat in the far South? ' Who. indeed, can really tell ! These two tiny species flock more or less together — as well as in company with other shore-birds — and it is not easy to tell them apart. The Least lacks the partial webbing between the toes, but this can hardly be observed at any distance. It is a trifle smaller than the Semipalmated. and has a reddish-brown tint in its plumage, while the other tends rather to gray ; also it is perhaps more Characteristics fond of marsh and meadow than the Semipalmated, which favors beaches and flats. Both, however, are often found on the marsh, so this sign is by no means of general appjication. Tt is a wonderfully pretty sight to watch them scwrying away from the advancing waves on the grand, gray sea-beach, or paddling nimbly about on the flats or in shallow pools of the marsh. How they can make their little legs go! As we walk along, we may not notice the binl->. they aiv so small. Suddenly ari^i-< a -.brill twittering or lisping, and up darts the scattered parly of Sandpipers. Quickly they get to- 208 Two Sandpipers gather, and in a rather compact flock are off at a rapid rate, their little wings moving so rapidly that it takes a high speed of the focal-plane shutter to get them sharp on the plate. Circling about, they often return to alight near their starting-point. Speaking of photography, the shore-birds are a hard class to catch successfully with the camera, because so small, restless, and dwellers in wide expanses. Not many hunters with the camera can produce good photographs, self-taken, of 'this tribe. It can be done, however, and these little Sandpipers make very pretty subjects. One can attract them to a blind with decoys. I have even had them fly close to Duck decoys, and secured good pictures of them thus, though it probably was mere idle curiosity that drew them. The best chances I ever found to photo- graph these and other shore-birds, except at nesting time, was on the spring migration among the Florida Keys, where the red mangrove grows right down to the water's edge, close to the sand-bars, o ograp ing jn winter and spring they are numerous in such Shore-birds , , « T i j j • 1 places, and all I had to do was to squat quietly and blaze away with my harmless weapon as the unsuspecting birds ran by me, fed, or rested. These little nymphs are gleaners, rather than scavengers. Their food, of course, is of very small prey — larvae, worms, minute shell-fish, insects, and the like — which they pick up on shore or flat, or probe for deeper down. Though we may not be able to assign any definite economic value to these species in dollars and cents, they have a value none the less real and great. Celia Thaxter found genuine happiness with "One little Sandpiper and I !" — and so has many another. They have afforded me, hundreds of times, most exquisite delight, and I know that they are worth while. May their numbers greatly increase ! Classification and Distribution These Sandpipers belong to the Order Limicola and Family Scolopacidce. The scientific name of the Least Sandpiper is Pisobia minutilla. It breeds in northern and eastern Canada, and in Alaska, and winters from the southwestern border of the United States to Brazil and Chile. The scientific name of the Semipalmated Sandpiper is Ercunetes pusiUus. It breeds in the Arctic regions, and winters from Texas and South Carolina throughout Central and South America. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE HORNED LARK By EDWARD HOWE FORBUSH THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 53 It is November. On Martha's Vineyard, a little island south of Cape Cod, the boiling surf pounds and roars along the lonely shore, shifting the sands upon the bars and rattling the cobbles on the cold, stony beaches. Surf-ducks dive and play amid the white-capped seas, while the Atlantic stretches away in the dim distance to the home of the east wind and the storm. Inland, among shrubby plains and rolling hills, nestles an isolated farm. Here in a weedy field, sheltered somewhat from the searching winds of the Atlantic, a flock of little brown birds creep in and out among the stubble. They have come from their summer home, in bleak ami barren Labrador, to their harvest home in this sea-girt isle. They are Eastern Horned Larks, the type of the species. Anyone acquainted with bird-life in Europe would at once recognize this little pedestrian to be a close ally of the far-famed Skylark. It is a small bird measuring only seven and three-quarter inches in length, and its weight does not exceed one and one-fifth ounces. Yet though so small a bird it attracts attention wherever seen. It is April. The setting sun lies warm over the wide prairie-fields of Minnesota, and the light, free, south wind gently breathes the breath of life over an eager land. A little bird sits on her sunken nest in the prairie sod, watching her mate as he springs aloft and gives himself to the buoyant currents of the air. He swings in loose circuits and zigzags back and forth, singing gently at Song- first, then, fluttering upward, rises by stages, taking Hight each upward step at a steep slant, sailing, ' gyrating, mounting higher and still higher, pouring forth his whole soul in an ecstasy of son-. lrp and up he goes, swinging in dizzy spirals, pausing at one height after another to send back to earth his music ; and so soars and sings until he fades from view in the clear blue canopy of heaven, and the song is wafted down sweeter and fainter until, like the skylark, he sings at "heaven's i^'ilr." Then, as the full flood of his ecstasy begins to ebb, and his strength wanes, he sinks slowly down: the far-away song swells on the listening ear, and, still fluttering and singing, he comes again into view. Swing- 210 The Horned Lark ing in wide aerial circuits he drops by slow stages until at last his hymn is ended, and, closing his wings, he drops like a meteor until near the earth, when he spreads his wings, checking his headlong rush, turns, and swings along the sod until his toes touch the grass-tops as lightly as the summer wind, and he comes to earth again near the little nest, the center of all his hopes. Such is the song-flight of the Prairie Horned Lark — a wonderful performance. The last stanza of Shelly 's "Ode to the Skylark'' might well be applied to its American cousin : "Leave to the Nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine. Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise, who soar, but never roam — True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home." The true larks, of which the Horned Lark is an example, have a long, straight claw (the "lark-spur") on the hind toe, and a slightly crested head ; but Horned Larks have in addition over the eye, and extending to the back of the head, a pair of narrow, black, Characteristics pointed crests that ordinarily lie close to the head ; but when the male is excited by passion or surprise these crests are erected, so that his head resembles slightly that of an owl, with two little black ears sticking up. Almost everywhere in the treeless lands of North America Horned Larks are found. In the East they breed southward to West Virginia, and in the West to Kansas, New Mexico and California. In the time of Wilson and Audubon only the typical Horned Lark, or "Shore Lark," a bird of the Atlantic coastal region, was known in the East ; but since then a somewhat different western subspecies, the Prairie Horned Lark, has expanded its range to the eastward. As the eastern country was cleared and settled, more open ground to which it had been accustomed became available there for this subspecies; and, as the western country was settled, trees were grown, much land was put under constant cultivation, thousands of larks' nests were destroyed as the farmers turned the prairie sod, and less room remained for this lover of the open grass-lands. Possibly for these reasons it Change of jias gra(juaiiy extended its range eastward to Quebec and New England. It is a rather pale variety, with some white about the head in place of the yellow of the typical eastern bird. The "Desert" subspecies is also extending eastward. The beginner in bird-study may not recognize the Horned Larks by their flight or by their whistled notes, for both resemble those of the American Pipit, or Titlark : but he may know them when they are on the ground by their pinkish-brown color, their thick-set, square-shouldered look, their mouse-like movements, and the distinct black and yellow, or yellowish-white, markings shown by the male bird on the side of the head. L' if HORNED LARK Order — PASSER ES Family — ALAUDID/B Genus— OTOCORIS Species— ALPBSTRIS National Association of Audubon Societies The Horned Lark 211 They may be confused with the Pipit or the Vesper Sparrow be- cause of the white outer feathers of the tail ; but the white in the tail of the Titlark and Vesper Sparrow is more noticeable, and the Horned Lark is much larger than either of those birds. As the bird flies over- head, the black tail with its white corners contrasts with the white belly. All this refers to the typical Horned Lark (Otocoris alpcstris alpestris), a bird of the Northeast and Labrador; but all Horned Larks resemble the type in their markings. There is a great variation, however, in the shades of the plumage. The ordinary call-note of the Horned Lark is very similar to that of the Pipit, but not so soft. Dr. C. W. Townsend writes it tssivee it, tssivt — a sibilant note. The flight-song of the Labrador Horned Lark is described by Townsend 2nd Allen as a series of squeaks and high notes, with a bit of a fine trill, the bird beginning his song when high in air and ending it there. The Prairie Horned Lark seems to be the best singer of them all. Its common song is a sprightly little ditty, with no consider- able resonance or modulation. Dawson expresses its proportions and tempo by the syllables, twidge-ividgc, wigity wigy-widge^ while the words t-^'idf/c, ivigity, eelooy, cclooy, idgity, eelogy e e w, serve the same pur- pose for the rarer ecstasy-song, which is sometimes given on the ground, but usually in air. The nest is built in a hollow dug in the ground or sunk in the moss, and is so deeply hollowed that the back of the sitting bird comes level with the surface. It is built chiefly of dried grasses, and that of the Desert variety has a curious "paving" of chips, etc., about it, described by Henry Mausley, in The Auk, July, 1916. The Prairie Horned Lark begins her nest early in March or April, by digging a hole about three inches wide and nearly as deep. This is lined to a depth of nearly an inch with dry grass, and the top is usually left level with the surface. The eggs, from three to five, are about one inch in length and from .60 to .75 inch in diameter. They are variable in color, but are usually profusely and heavily marked with brownish gray or dark stone- gray upon greenish bronze. When the eggs are nearing the end of the incubating period, the bird sits so closely as almost to allow the intruder to step upon her back. Audubon found the Horned Lark breeding in high and desolate tracts of Labrador near the sea, on dark rocks covered with mosses and lichens, where its protective coloring, tin* as it sat on the nest,, was quite as effective as it is among the pastures of New England, or on the broad and breezy western prairies. As the young approach maturity they outgrow the nest, and when it will contain them no longer they leave it, usually several days or a week before they are able to fly; after which they wander about over the ground, and the parents continue to feed them for two or three weeks. 212 The Horned Lark While the young are still in the nest the mother is very secretive about feeding them. She never flies to the nest when she apprehends danger, but always alights at a distance, zigzags up to the nest, creeps to it, feeds the young very quickly, and then steals away. The little ones in their first plumage are covered with light spots. The Horned Larks are ground-birds. Although sometimes one alights upon a stump-root, fence-post, or rail, they rarely have been seen in trees. In October, or when the chill winds of November blow. Horned Larks from the north begin to appear in the United States. They come down from Labrador and the fur countries and become common along the Atlantic seaboard, usually in small straggling flocks. The members of a flock keep company like a hen and chickens, the old birds leading. Sometimes as many as one hundred or more may consort together. In the East they frequent freshly .ploughed fields, marshes, mead- ows, stubble-fields, and weedy places along the coast, sometimes going to the higher pastures. When snow comes they search for food along the shore, on bare spaces in roads, or near barns and haystacks. In winter they are sometimes seen in the interior with flocks of Snowflakes. In autumn and winter they are rather silent ; and when feeding they keep close to the ground, where they creep about, picking up seeds. They are adepts at hiding, squatting low behind weeds or clumps of grass. The scattered flocks fly with an undulating motion,, and when startled often rise, fly ofF, and then turn about and alight near the point from which they started. In the West, they live in desert-valleys, on barren table-lands and level prairies, and also among highlands and upon bare mountain-peaks. W. L. McAtee of the United States Geological Survey, in his bul- letin on "The Horned Larks and Their Relation to Agriculture." states that two fifths or less of their food consists of insects, and four fifths of vegetable matter. The quantity of grain taken is insignificant except in California, where these birds seem to be largely vegetarian. The Horned Larks are interesting birds. They readily adapt them- selves to farm-conditions, and are distinctly beneficial to agriculture. They should be protected by law at all times. Classification and Distribution The Horned Lark belongs to the order Passeres, Suborder Oscines and Family Alaudidce. Its scientific name is Otocoris alpestris. The range of the species includes all North America, Central and northern South America, northern Asia, Europe and northern Africa. Fourteen geographical races have been named as subspecies in North America alone, indicating unusual variability in this bird. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies. 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request THE SNOWY EGRET By T. GILBERT PEARSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 54 Among the Herons of North America are four species that are white. The largest is the Great White Heron of southern Florida, the West A SNOWY EGKE1 IN THE NESTING-COLONY ON THE AUDUBON BIRD RESERVATION AT ORANGE LAKE. FLORIDA Photographed by O. E. Baynard Indies, and elsewhere. The Little Blue Heron is white until it is two years old, and possibly in some cases longer. Then there are the two Egrets, the large species, standing over three feet high, and the small one, which is about the size of the Little Blue and is known as the Snowy Egret. Both species of Egrets bear plumes on their backs that are highly esteemed by the feather-trade, and are known by the French trade- name "aigrettes." These feathers on the large Egret are a foot or more 214 The Snowy Egret in length and are straight. In the case of the Snowy Egret they are scarcely more than six inches long, are very fine, and are recurved at the tips. These are known among milliners as "cross aigrettes" to distinguish them from the "long white." The plumes appear early in the year and the birds begin to drop them shortly after the young are hatched. At the close of the nesting season the large Egret rarely Cross possesses any plume-feathers, the forty or fifty nuptial plumes that adorned the bird earlier in the season hav- ing been shed during the course of the- summer. In the case of the Snowy the plumes fall out more slowly, and some individuals at least are supposed to still carry them when in autumn they leave our shores for the Tropics. Snowy Egrets are found in swampy and marshy parts of tropical and sub-tropical America. They inhabit both fresh-water and salt-water marshes, and, unlike their larger relatives, even breed over salt water. They gather in colonies in the spring, and usually are found associated with Louisiana Herons and Little Blue Herons. In visiting Heron colonies, or "rookeries," I have never been able to distinguish positively the eggs or nest of these three species. The only sure way of identification is carefully to watch a nest until the old bird not merely alights on the nest, but actually sits down and begins to brood the eggs. It should be borne in mind that simply because one sees a bird standing on a nest it is no infallible evidence that the nest belongs to that bird. Man-o'-war-birds are not known to lay their eggs anywhere on the coast of the United States, yet in Tampa Bay they have frequently been seen sitting on Cormorants' nests. The nest of the Snowy Egret is made of twigs. Some of these may be a foot or more in length, especially those that make the foundation. Near the top the twigs become shorter and smaller, although there is usually a ragged rim of sticks that project out at all N«t and sorts of angles> This is all There are no feathers, leaves, fragments of moss, down or plants, or any of the softer materials that make beds for so many other kinds of baby birds. On this thick, loosely constructed platform of twigs the four or five blue eggs are laid. The young at first are quite helpless, and after they begin to gain strength and sit up many days elapse before their long, wobbly legs are strong enough for the birds to stand on. Their toes are very long and the young at first move around in a most awkward manner. Were it not for the twigs that project everywhere from the sides of the nest many fledglings surely would be drowned. One may frequently see them with their necks hooked over one of these outlying twigs, and their long legs working convulsively as they seek to grasp the nest with their toes in an endeavor to regain a position on the platform. Most Heron rookeries are infested with "cotton-mouths," or water- moccasins, and I have seldom visited a rookery that did not contain alligators. These reptiles not only are on the lookout for food that the The Snowy Egret 215 birds let fall, but undoubtedly they eat many of the young Egrets that fall from the nest. I have been told by wardens that alligators sometimes shake or jar the bushes with the object of spilling the young birds out ; of the truthfulness of this statement, however, I know of no satis- factory proof. Young Egrets are fed chiefly on small fish, which the parent regurgi- tates into their mouths. The old Egrets in gathering food for them- selves or young often make journeys of several miles from the rookery to their favorite feeding-grounds, where they get their prey while wading in the water. Ordinarily you need not expect to find them feeding where there are many trees, as for example in a swamp, nor on shores the borders of which are paved with sand or pebbles, but you must go to the marshes. Here, where often the Feeders water is only a few inches deep, the small life found about the submerged bases of the marsh grasses provides food for the minnows that the Egrets love. Some members of the Heron family have the habit of standing still and capturing the fish that swim near them, or they will stalk through the water, very stately and dignified, keeping an eye out the while for any finny prey. The Snowy Egret appears seldom to employ these methods. On the Orton plantation, in southeastern North Carolina, there is a pond a few miles in length, the dam for which was built by negroes in the days of slavery. This body of water is used for flooding the rice-fields of the plantation. It is a famous place for bird-life. In one of the nar- row arms of the pond, which runs back into a cypress swamp, there is situated a rookery of perhaps two thousand Herons of different species. Should you visit this colony some day in May you would be able after a little watching to see a number of Snowy Egrets caring for their young. The parents are continually coming and going at all hours of the day. You may see a solitary Snowy Egret come flying in over the lake, go to its nest, feed its young, preen its feathers for a time, and then start off for more food. Nearly all of them YaJ* come from the same direction. Not long ago I dis- covered their favorite feeding-ground. It was a brackish-water marsh close to the ocean, and about fifteen miles from where the birds had their nests. One day I hid in a tall clump of grass to see what would come near. I had not long to wait before a Snowy Egret lightly dropped into the water not a hundred feet away. Evidently it was hungry or knew that its young were, for it immediately began a most vigorous quest for min- nows. With the most astonishing agility it ran here and there through the water, its bright yellow eyes evidently discovering many objects of interest. With lightning-like rapidity the bill shot downward for min- nows, and I suspect it rarely missed its prey. A Louisiana Heron came along and began feeding near by. The Snowy rushing here and there suddenly found itself face to face with its more sedate neighbor. In- 216 The Snowy Egret stantly it showed resentment; the long feathers on its head were raised and the great mass of recurved plumes was elevated and spread out, forming an elegant fan-like ruff across the back and sides. Also, it promptly charged the Louisiana Heron in so fierce a manner that that disconcerted individual hurriedly fled to a safe distance. The Snowy Egret is no small bully in the rookery, as many a venture- some Heron knows to its sorrow. Let a Little Blue or Louisiana Heron get too near a Snowy's nest, and it quickly finds itself in trouble. These birds also spar much with each other, and a group of them about their nests presents an animated scene. The Snowy Egret formerly bred as far north as New Jersey and possibly Long Island, but this was many years ago. At the present time we know of no colony of this species north of Core Sound, North Carolina. There are several rookeries in South Carolina, one of which, that in the summer of 1917 contained about four hundred inhabitants, is on a small island in the Stono River, near Charleston. The island is owned by the National Association of Audubon Societies, which keeps a guard there during all the period of nesting. If this was not done the colony would be destroyed by gunners, just as the birds in hundreds of other rookeries have been exterminated. The "aigrettes" that come from the back of one Snowy Egret, and which are most perfect in the nesting season, can now be sold for ten dollars. It is easy to see, there- fore, that the four hundred birds breeding on the Audubon island in the Stono River would bring four thousand dollars in the millinery markets. Knowledge that money can be derived from killing the birds makes a strong temptation to some classes of gunners to slip into the rookeries and shoot the birds, if they can catch the warden away. Nearly every summer there is a fight between the Audubon wardens U( and would-be poachers. In these encounters two wardens have been killed and others wounded. It is, of course, against the law to kill the birds, and also it is illegal in many States to sell their feathers. The largest nesting-colony of Snowy Egrets in the United States of which we have any knowledge is situated in a pond on the estate of Mr. E. A. Mcllhenny at Avery Island, Louisiana. Prof. J. S. Huxley went carefully through the rookery in the summer of 1916, and reported between eight hundred and nine hundred nests. Classification and Distribution The Snowy Egret belongs to the Order Herodiones and to the Family Ardeidce, Its scientific name is Egretta candidissima. It formerly ranged through- out the southern half of the United States except the dry plains, and all over South America ; but is now restricted in North America to the South Atlantic and Gulf States. It winters from Mexico and southward. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at .5 cents encli. hy the National Associati Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists jj.vi.-ii on request. THE DOWNY WOODPECKER By T. GILBERT PEARSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 55 DOWNY AT DINNFR Photographed by Carl E. Purple A cheery little neighbor of mine lives near me, among the trees of a grove, whom I should like to have all my friends meet. He is a little Downy Woodpecker. White spots are scattered over his black wings, and there is just a stripe of red across the top of his black cap. I am sure you would know him by his small size, his colors, and his trustful manner. He is not at all suspicious, and when he is hard at work will usually allow one to approach quite close to him. If you will tie a piece of suet to the limb of a tree, as Mr. Purple had done before he made the photograph shown on this page, Downy \\ill come to see you day after day, especially in winter, when he is exceedingly glad of your bounty. He is a quiet, modest, little creature who never does anyone harm, and so far as known has few enemies, the most alarming one being the snake that robs his nest. Downy is the smallest as well as the most active of our woodpeckers, and appears to be always busy. Often we may see him climbing up the huge trunk of some old oak-tree, pausing a second here and there to rap on the bark with his bill to learn whether the wood is solid. Again he will pause as the peculiar sound given back from his tap indicates that an insect is lurking within. Then Sounding the resounding blows of his little pickaxe fall thick the Trees and fast, sending the chips in every direction. In vain does the larva feasting on the sap of the tree retreat into its hole. A gleam of daylight shoots into the burrow, and an instant later the spear-like tongue of the Woodpecker has impaled its victim and jerked it forth. Then on up the tree Downy goes, perhaps without further incident until well among the limbs, when suddenly he flies to a neighboring tree, dropping as he does so to a point near its base, and begins to ascend this trunk as he did the one before. 218 The Downy Woodpecker He is the natural watchman of our fruit-trees. He hunts out the moth's eggs laid in the crack of the bark and eats them, thus pre- venting a brood of caterpillars from hatching and eating the leaves of the tree. He finds the eggs of beetles and eats them, also, before they can hatch out into the wood-boring larvae that sometimes girdle and kill the limbs. Thus Downy labors on, day by Dlstroyed da^' througn the year, destroying millions of harmful insects that if unmolested would do a vast injury to the groves and orchards. For all this service he never eats any of the fruit of the trees he guards, but, when in need of a little vegetable diet, goes to the berries of the dogwood, or woodbine, or pokeberry. Occasionally he eats a few weed-seeds just for variety. Downy is sometimes called "Sapsucker," and is accused of pecking holes in the bark of trees for the purpose of getting sap. But he is not the guilty one — the bird that does this is another kind of woodpecker. The small holes that our little friend makes in trees do not even reach the inner bark, except when he is bent on securing some harmful intruder. Like most of our woodpeckers Downy is a resident throughout the year wherever found, and seems to enjoy all seasons equally. Early in December one dug out with his bill a cavity for his winter bedroom in the dead limb of the tree standing near the house. So nice and cozy a retreat from the wind was it that frequently, early in the evening, he would leave his friends, Chickadee and Titmouse, with whom he had romped all day, and, hurrying off, tumble into bed to dream away the long winter night. On cold and rainy mornings he would some- times lie late abed, probably knowing that in doing so he stood no danger of losing the early worm. I found him still there about nine o'clock one drizzling morning; to be sure, he was up and about, but he had not yet left home. He was clinging just inside the hollow of the limb, and I could distinctly see his bill and bright inquisitive eyes as he sat looking out over the drenched and dreary world. When you find Downy in your orchard on a bright, cold morning in January, he has the same busy, contented air which you must have noticed when first making his acquaintance, perhaps on some warm spring day. He appears so happy and buoyant at all times, however, that one wonders whether he has not hidden away under his little white waistcoat a perpetual fountain of the ecstasy of springtime and youth. He likes cheerful company, especially in the winter, when most of the forest-voices are silent and the cold winds are howling around the trunks of the sleeping forest-trees. He then hunts up his friends, the little gray Tufted Titmouse and the light-hearted Chickadee. Together they spend much time in bands, patrolling the woodland, and searching out from their hiding-places the eggs of insects stowed away under the bark to wait for the warm spring sun to hatch them. A dozen or more birds are thus often found to- gether. DOWNY (figs. 1 and 2) and HAIRY WOODPECKERS (fig. 3) Order-Pici Famlly-FiciD* GenuS-DRYOBATBS SpecleS-rUBHSCHNS (DOWNY) Species— VILLOSUS (HAIRY) National Association of Audubon Societies The Downy Woodpecker 219 They form a merry company, these little forest-rangers, and never lack for music as they march. The shrill piping peto, peto, peto, of the Titmouse mingles with the tenor-drum tap, tap of Downy 's bill on the bark, while ever and again the Chickadee, a mere bundle of nerves and fluffy feathers, "merrily sings his chick-a-dec-dee." Not merely for company do these birds thus associate, but for mutual protection as well. Twenty pairs of sharp eyes are more likely to see an enemy approaching than is a single pair, and it is well for a small bird to keep a sharp lookout at this season, for it is more readily seen by a hawk in a leafless, wintry Protection wood than if it were within a shady summer forest. Like all other woodpeckers, Downy 's mate lays white eggs. These usually number four or five, and are placed on a soft bed of fine chips at the bottom of a hole, which both parents have helped to dig, usually in the under side of a decayed limb of the tree. Nature is not prone to use her coloring-matter on eggs which, like the woodpeckers', are hid away in dark holes in trees. When the little ones are hatched Downy and his mate are kept very busy for a long time bringing them good things to eat, for the little woodpeckers have great appetites, which seem never to be satisfied. Downy is not only a very neighborly little fellow in his social relations with other wild birds fortunate enough to make his acquaint- ance, but he also renders them a very great service in providing many homes which they can use. He and his mate usually dig out a new nest every year, and, as a rule, he makes a new hole for roosting purposes every winter. As a result of this, Downy's many unused Downy Woodpecker's nests are scattered Home about in all our orchards, groves, and woodlands, like empty houses. Some little birds like the protection afforded by a hollow in a tree, when in spring they get ready to build their nests, and these old abandoned Downy nests are just exactly what they are looking for. I remember finding a nest of one of these little woodpeckers in a small dead birch-stump standing near a brook by the edge of a pasture. The nest was only about five feet from the ground, and although many cattle passed that way each day, and the farmer's house-cat sometimes wand- ered along the stream, the little white eggs were hatched and the young reared in safety. A year later I chanced again to pass that way. Great was my delight to find that, although the Downies had moved on to another place, their old home contained six as wide-awake little birds as anyone could wish to meet with on a bright spring morning. Scarcely had I made the discovery when their mother appeared, and lo! it was our dainty friend the Chickadee. She and her mate had filled the hole half full of various kinds of Tenants soft material, and evidently were as proud of their snug home as if they had dug it out with their own weak little bills. ( hie Sunday morning not long ago I heard a House Wren singing. II is heart was full of joy. It was clear that he had won his mate for 220 The Downy Woodpecker the year, and felt secure in his love-affairs ; but I soon found that he was happy about something else also. He had discovered just the place for a nest — at least he appeared to think so — and seemed bent on con- vincing his ladylove of the fact. Twenty feet in the air, on the under side of a dead limb of a very old and highly esteemed cherry-tree, was a last year's Downy Woodpecker's nest. To this the little singer went repeatedly. He would go in, come to the door and look out, disappear, and then look out again. Of all the places in the neighborhood this, indeed, was the ideal spot for the nest — at least, I believe that was his view of the situation. It is no small matter for a bird to find a safe nest for its eggs and young; and where can a little mother hide her eggs more securely from the pilfering Blue Jay, or the inquisitive Red-headed Woodpecker, than by placing them deep down in the beautifully secure cavity dug by the strong bill of a Downy Woodpecker? THE HAIRY WOODPECKER Another black-and-white woodpecker very closely resembles the Downy, except that it is a little larger. This bird the books call the Hairy Woodpecker. It is quite true that it differs slightly in appear- ance from its smaller relative ; for example, the outer tail-feathers are white with no marks on them, while the feathers in the Downy's tail are adorned with black spots. On the whole, however, the similarity is very striking. It is usually found in the woods, and is not so much inclined to come about the house as is our friendly, trusting, little Downy, which we all love so much. Classification and Distribution The Downy Woodpecker belongs to the Order Pici, Family Picida, and Genus Dryobates. Its scientific name is Dryobates pubescens. It is resident in all the wooded parts of the United States and Canada, but most of the individuals move somewhat southward in winter from the northern border of the specific range. The Hairy Woodpecker belongs to the same genus, and is named Dryobates villosus. It has a similar distribution to that of the Downy, but is rather more numerous and hardy in the North. Each of these widely distributed species includes several geographical subspecies. AK AND BARBED TONGUE OF THE DOWNY WOODPECKER (Both much enlarged) This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD By MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 56 When the cherry blossoms have fallen and the buds in the tumbled- do\vn old apple-orchard are showing pink tips, when the gold-and-black Baltimore Oriole is calling plaintively to his belated lady-love, and the rich song of the unseen Rose-breast falls from the tree-tops, with a whirr and a flash a jewel set in a bit of iridescent metal-work slants across the garden, and we say with bated breath "The Hummingbird has come." A HUMMINGBIRD'S DOWNY CRADLE • In this case the has a very definite meaning; for in the length and breadth of the country that lies between the Mississippi and the Atlantic, and between Florida and Labrador, there is but one species of humming- bird— that of the Ruby-throat. (The twilight-flying creature so often mistaken for a Hummingbird is, in truth, a hawk-moth.) \\ hen a pair of Hummers first make up their minds to share your garden you will have many chances to watch them before nest-building makes them more elusive. The Hummingbird has the reputation of being 222 The Ruby-Throated Hummingbird constantly on the wing; but in reality it is only so while it is collecting food, either the honey from flowers or the small aphis with which it feeds its young, and it spends quite as much time in perching as any other bird. Dead twigs of hemlock or Norway spruce make favorite perches here in my New England garden, and it often seems as if the dainty little thing chose the twigs with conscious regard to the color-protection of his sur- roundings, when, lo ! he is off again, and this times perches in the open on a taut wire, where the light plays on every ruby feather of his gorget, making him conspicuous out of all proportion to his size. While he rests thus, preening first one wing and then the other, it is a fine chance to study the bird in detail — the upper parts feathered in glistening green, with metallic tints of purple and blue upon wings and tail, and the wonderful ruby throat, separated from feR.eas the dull, gray-green breast by a line of light. From the end of his needle-like bill to the tail-tip he meas- ures a trifle under three and one-fourth inches, while the wings that make the resonant hum, suggesting the motive power of a machine rather than of a bird, measure only about one and a half inches on each side of the body. Truly this is our "least" bird. So slim and compact is the Hummingbird that, seen at the usual dis- tance, its plumage has more the appearance of metal-work than the shaft and down of feathers. Its voice also has the sharp squeak of metallic contact, and is utterly unlike the usual bird note. I have heard precisely the same tone from a mouse. But, at close range, all these qualities are transformed. This is a case when a bird in the hand gave me a different idea of that same bird in the bush, forevermore. Let it be distinctly understood, however, that the coming within range of my touch was by way of succor, and not by way of capture. Many times as the same thing has happened, the first is the best remembered, like many other first times, from the combination of surprise and novelty. It was at the beginning of rose time. The long-tubed honeysuckles on the back porch brought the Hummingbirds in close range with the din- ing-room window, and, apparently fearless, they came to and fro during all the daylight hours, sometimes conversing in amicable squeaks, and then again waging a warfare of evidently angry words and beak-thrusts, even though the pair were mates, one with the ruby throat and the female without, after the family custom. The lower part of the large window was screened by wire netting ; the upper sash, with its diamond panes backed by the partly darkened room, made a series of mirrors, in which the male bird presently spied his own reflection. Could a high-spirited cavalier allow a rival not only to be in the same garden but to be hovering above the very honeysuckle with Mrs. Ruby ! Forward and back went Sir Ruby, fencing with the reflection first in one pane and then another, squeaking shrilly, and gradually coming sc close that he struck the pane recklessly Then came a slip and a des- RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD Order- MACROCHIRKS Famlly-TnocHiLiD Cenus-ARCHiLOCHUS Species-CoLUBRis National Association of Audubon Societies The Ruby-Throated Hummingbird 223 perate thrust, when flying too low, the bird was caught by the beak in the firm meshes of the wire screen, where, after a single effort, he hung quite stunned by the shock. Going outside, after hesitating a moment, — so frail and intangible a thing it seemed to touch, I gently released the bill and laid the little body, now inert, with limp neck, in my palm. The tiny claws were closed like clenched fists ; had its neck been broken, was it dead ? No, for the eyes were open bright, though they did not " u y 9 , r i i • Adventure see, and one of the things that I learned years ago from that unfailing observer, Dr. Elliott Coues, was that, contrary to other forms of animal life, the eyes of a bird always shut in death. As I closed my hand a little, with the natural instinct to brood and comfort the one hurt, I suddenly felt the thump of that mite of a heart, and the head raised a bit and then fell back again, beak parted. \Yater and a grass-blade to carry the water to the beak, drop by drop, was the next step. The bill closed and the water was swallowed until five drops were consumed, — quite a draught, all things considered. Another minute and the head was raised. I tried to make a perch of my finger, but it was too large by far. Securing a dry twig from the honeysuckle, I wedged it as well as I could with one hand across a berry basket that was on the porch table, and placed Sir Ruby upon it, setting the basket well into the shade of the vine. The claws held firmly to the twig, and the bird settled down sleepily, his only motion being to rub his head (eyes now closed) under one half- raised wing. Then I moved back a few feet and waited. Perhaps two minutes passed when, without warning, Sir Ruby, with a single motion, darted from the vine without even touching the basket's edge, and on across the garden, as good as new. What he thought I cannot know, but I shall never forget the wonderful revelation of the bird world, and reverence for the creative plan complete in so small a frame, that thrilled through me at the beating of that little heart against my palm. As housebuilders these Hummingbirds are as unique as in their ap- pearance. Whether the site chosen for a nest be high up almost out of sight, or on a slanting branch close at hand, the nest is usually set astride the limb like a saddle on a horse, instead of being supported by a hand-like series of crotches. An unused nest that I have now before me shows very perfectly the materials from which it was made. Next to the maple branch, less than half an inch thick, is a layer of the soft scales that fall on the opening of spruce-buds ; the body of the nest is of fern-wool, mixed with the down of some composite smaller than the ordinary dandelion. The outside is shingled with cedar-tree moss, as well as a few of the dark scales of spruce-bark. In this nest, the edge is quite loose and fluffy, and the structure itself is rather small, being not over an inch above its foundation. In this case, the home was, for some unknown reason, abandoned immediately after 224 The Ruby-Throated Hummingbird the eggs were laid ; had the birds been hatched, the nest would have given them but poor protection. The condition of this nest is apparently ex- plained by two cases that I have watched in the garden, when, after the young were hatched, the mother bird built up the nest about them as they grew. The eggs of the Ruby-throat, and of all other kinds of Humming- birds are only two, and are pure white. After the nesting season is over the males are seen again about the flowers, though greatly outnumbered by Hummers lacking the ruby throat. This, however, is easily accounted for by the fact that the young of the year, both males and females, are plumed like the mother. One spectacle in the home life of the Ruby-throat is rather awful until you fully understand the cause, and know that the mother is not trying to choke her children to death. She feeds them by regurgitation ; that is, she pumps the food, first softened in her own crop, down the little throats by means of her own beak, which she r thrusts into their gaping mouths. Early bird students saw this process the other way about, saying that Hummers, Pigeons, etc., pushed their beak into their parents' crops for food — hence the term "sucking doves." In the Hummingbird we have a species that makes its appeal through beauty of form and grace of flight, rather than through any economic consideration. Beauty as an excuse for being has, however, long since been accepted as a fact. And yet it was through beauty that, at one time, this elusive little bird was almost doomed to extinction, for it is not so many years ago when a wreath of Hummingbirds upon a festal hat was not a rare sight. Public opinion, in the United States at least, will no longer stand for such senseless waste and barbarity. Of no use for food, a difficult prey for either cat or snake, the Ruby-throat should escape most of the ills that befall our native birds, and continue with us when larger birds grow rare. Unlike many birds of unique .plumage or tropical colors, the Hum- mingbird family belongs entirely to the New World, and is most nu- merous in the mountains of South America. Of the five hundred or more known species, only eighteen reach the United States, and but few of these pass far north of our Mexican boundary. Classification and Distribution The Ruby-throat belongs to the Order Macrochires, Suborder Trochili and Family Trochilida-. Its scientific name is Archilochus colubris. It is found in summer and breeds throughout the eastern United States from Florida to Mani- toba, Quebec and Nova Scotia; and it winters in Mexico and Central America. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association ci Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway. New York City. Lists given on request. YELLOW-HEADED BLACKBIRD By THOMAS S. ROBERTS THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 57 The Yellow-headed Blackbird is preeminently a native of the Great Plains, and, although in some parts of its range it invades regions not strictly prairie, it belongs by right to the vast treeless plains of the in- terior, and to the sparsely wooded areas immediately adjoining on the east and west. Over all this region it ranges, breeding from the extreme northern part of Mexico in the south to the Saskatchewan Valley. YELLOW-HEADED BLACKBIRDS. AND THEIR NEST Photographed by Dr. T. S. Roberts, Minneapolis, Minn. One invariable condition is necessary to induce it to establish a summer residence, and that is -an abundant and permanent water-supply, and associated with this must be just the kind of vegetation that is suited to its rather particular tastes. Preference is given usually to a swamp or slough that is very wet and having more or less open water ; never meadows or marshes that are simply damp and subject to drying out. The tule beds of the valleys of the Rockies, the quill-reed brakes of the North, and the flag swamps of the South arc alike acceptable. Wherever the Yellowhead breeds it congregates in colonies, and these assemblages are often of vast proportions. It is very loyal to its home- 226 Yellow-Headed Blackbird site and returns year after year, even when the surroundings undergo great and uncongenial changes, deserting it only with the drying up of the marsh. The Yellowhead is very closely restricted to its special nest- ing haunts, and as the members of each colony go in the spring directly to their particular rendezvous, and wander but a little way into the surrounding country until after the com- pletion of the breeding period, they are easily over- looked if their nesting sloughs are not numerous or their homes be not actually invaded. In the northward movement in spring the vanguard of the Yellow- heads that are to breed in Canada reach the international boundary about May 1, the males preceding the females by a few days. In Minne- sota, where the writer's entire experience with this bird has been gained, stragglers enter the southern part of the State about the middle of April, but it is not until the very last of that month or early in May that they become numerous. In this region they breed almost exclusively in the dense growth of quill-reeds (Phragmites) that fills or encircles many of the sloughs and shallow lakes of the prairie and semi-prairie parts of the State. Occa- sionally spring freshets or other disturbances may drive them to place their nests among bulrushes (Scirpus} in upland sloughs, or more rarely still in willows and bushes adjacent to open water. A Denizen Nest-building is usually begun in central Minnesota of the Reeds about the ^dle of May and continues until well into June. It seems probable, however, that only one brood is raised in a season, the great variation in the nesting-time being explainable by the depredations of various small animals, which devour the eggs and young, and by severe elemental disturbances. The examination of many hundreds of nests over a long period of time and a detailed study of a single colony* throughout the entire breed- ing season furnish the data for the following summary of the chief fea- tures of the nesting of the Yellowhead : The female builds the nest and incubates the eggs without any assist- ance by the male. The male assists in the care of the young, but only to a limited ex- tent and chiefly after they leave the nest. The body of the nest is constructed of wet material collected from the water near by. This is woven about the stems Structure Q£ ^ reecjS) two or \\\rtt feet above the water, and of the Nest ., , , ,. r ,, , its drying and contracting fixes the nest securely m position, as is well shown in the illustration on page 225. The lining consists of pieces of broad, dry reed-leaves, and often the rim of the nest is finished with the fine branches of the plume-like fruiting-tops of the reeds, forming a sort of canopy over the somewhat constricted entrance. For fuller details, see The <4wfe,.xxvi, 1909, pp. 371-389, 10 plates, 24 photographs. YELLOW-HEADED BLACKBIRD Order— PASSKRES Family— ICTBRID* Genus— XANTHOCBPHALUS Species— XANTHOCBPHALUS National Association of Audubon Societies Educational Leaflet No. 57 Yellow-Headed Blackbird 227 The typical finished nest is a firm, inverted, cone-shaped, basket-like affair, suspended among the rigid stems of last year's reeds, only excep- tionally among new growth. The height is usually eight to ten inches. A skillful, industrious bird will build one of these large, beautifully woven and lined nests all complete in two to four days. When it is con- sidered that a single bird has not only to collect but skillfully to manipu- late all this large mass of material, it is surprising to see these bulky nests spring up almost over night. The eggs in a set are three to five, usually four. They are laid one each day, the first egg one to five days after the completion of the nest, depending apparently upon the time it takes the nest to dry out. All the eggs of a set are alike in color and shape, but there is considerable variation in different sets. The out- a°ds line varies from almost elliptical to a pronounced ovate. The measurements vary from 1.12 inches to .94 inches in length by .76 to .64 of an inch in breadth. The shell is smooth and glossy. The ground-color of the four eggs varies from a soiled greyish white in some sets to a pale olive-white in others, and in rare instances has a faint pink-lilac hue. When these tints correspond, as is usually the case, to similar shades in the markings, there result eggs of a general dull gray, olive, or pink-lilac hue. The markings vary from a fine close speckling, almost uniform over the entire egg, to large blotches scattered at the smaller end and becoming confluent at the larger end. Most of the eggs present very fine and irregular tracings and spots of black or dark brown about the larger end, suggesting the more pronounced zig- zags on the eggs of other Blackbirds and Orioles. The usual period of incubation is ten days. The young remain in the nest about twelve days, when they begin a precarious life in the swaying reed-tops, where they are cared for for some days by both parents. The curiously variegated, generally buffy- toned, plumage of the young birds blends well with their surroundings at this time ; and, as they are indisposed to move, it quite effectively con- ceals them. The nesting season over, old and young leave the sloughs and marshes and, congregating in straggling flocks, sometimes accompanied by Red- wings and Crackles, wander over the upland for a short time before de- parting for the South. They rarely assemble in the North in the large compact flocks so characteristic of Migration the Redwing and the Rusty. Their southward move- ment begins early, and they have largely left the northern part of their range by the first of September. Stragglers, however, may occasionally be found even until snowfall. Throughout their winter range in the southern United States they roam about in flocks, feeding familiarly about cattle-ranches, farms, and the outskirts of towns and villages, lead- in Lr a sort of Cowbird existence. The song of the male Yellowhead, if song it may be called, is a most remarkable, unmusical and unbirdlike effort. At a time of the year when 228 Yellow-Headed Blackbird most other birds are singing finished nuptial songs, however humble, this fine fellow, perched aloft on a cluster of swaying reed-stems, is strain- ing every nerve in an attempt that results, after a few harsh pre- liminary, but fairly promising notes, in a seemingly painful choking spell that terminates in a long-drawn rasping squeal that is nothing short of harrowing. It has always seemed as though some day a Yellowhead would be found who could sing the song that they are all trying so hard to render, but thus far not a single note of the dreadful discord has been improved upon, and it always ends in the same disappointing failure. The rasping sounds are accompanied by a most intense bodily effort,* as is evidenced by the widely spread tail, swollen throat, upturned head and twisted neck. Even the In"er ordinary call-note is a hoarse rattling croak that sug- gests a chronic sore throat. The voice of the female is less harsh, and I have never heard it utter the long squeal of the male. As an economic factor, the Yellow-headed Blackbird plays about the same role as the Redwing; but the fact that it is in the aggregate much less numerous and much more restricted in its general range renders it of less importance than the latter enormously abundant and widely dis- tributed species. But with the coming of spring and the reoccupation of the northern portions of their range, they congregate at their nesting-haunts and for a time supplement their insect and waste-seed diet by extensive stealings from the various grains being planted by the neighboring farmers. Wheat, oats, flax, corn, and, in fact everything, receives a share of their attention at this time. Sprouting corn is pulled up by the roots in order to get at the grain below, and in fields near the sloughs it is only by re- planting the despoiled hills and covering with manure that a crop can be started at all. It is at this season that the Yellowhead and its associates — the Red- wing and Crackle — come in for their first bitter denunciation by the plundered farmer. After the crops are well started, the Yellowhead once more returns to a diet that is more beneficial than injurious. During the "breaking" season they, in company with a troop made up of Franklin's Gulls. Black Terns, Crackles and Cowbirds, may be found following every plow and greedily devouring the many angleworms and insects turned out. I have known them to consume large numbers of the white grub of the cockchafer in this way. Grasshoppers they eat at this time as well as all through the season, and this insect forms a large part of the food of the young. Classification and Distribution The Yellow-headed Blackbird belongs to the Order Passeres, and Family Corvida. Its scientific name is Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus. It ranges in summer from the upper Mississipoi Valley on the east, and the Saskatchewan Valley on the north to the central plains, southern Rockv Mountains and southern California. Its winters are spent in northern and central Mexico. This and other Education?! T e^flets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE CALIFORNIA QUAIL By JOSEPH MAILLIARD THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 58 The California Quail — including under this name the two subspecies we have in the State — is one of the most interesting and most commonly met with of the birds of California. Along the more rainy and damper coast-belt, the Quail is of a darker hue and larger form ; while in the dryer interior and in the deserts, where the sun shines nearly every day w in the year, and often shines intensely, it is somewhat smaller and paler. The darker bird is called the California Quail, and the paler one the Valley Quail. The range of one or the other of these 'races' or 'subspecies' extends almost throughout the State except at the higher elevations. From the lesser mountains of northern California to the waste areas of the southern deserts, from the wave-washed cliffs of the western seacoast to the foot- hills of the snow-capped Sierras, it is everywhere present in varying abundance. It is to be seen and heard amid the rocks and cactus of the Colorado Desert, where it thrives in friendly contest with its cousin, Gambel's Quail ; among the vast sagebrush areas of central and southern California ; on the plains of the great valleys where green stretches of alfalfa are a striking contrast to the fields of golden grain waving in the summer breeze ; in the hills covered with live oak and chaparral near the coast; and among the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, up to a height of three or four thousand feet. In fact, wherever there is a little water to drink, a sheltered place to roost at night, and grain or grass-seeds for food, one is likely to meet this species — and it is a bird worth meeting ! Always sleek and well-groomed except w"hen molting, with an air of sedate, but active, respectability, quick as a flash when danger threatens, the male seems ever proud of ro" ° his richer coloring and gracefully curved head-plumes, as he marches about or runs swiftly along in search of food, while his consort follows meekly in her more quiet garb. The Quail has several very distinct and differently used notes and calls. The call most commonly noticed is more like a rooster's crow than a song, and is easily imitated by a child, a woman, or even by a man, if he has a good falsetto, and sounds something Hke ka-ka-kao, which is interpreted by various human beings to suit their fancy. Some declare that Mr. Quail says "Put that down!." others that he distinctly means "Cut it out !," while the hunters know that he says "You go'way !" Bu{ 230 The California Quail this call is given only when he feels happy. There is a variation to it, given with the same notes, but with a very different accent, that sounds like ku-ku-ku! with the accent strongly on the second note, and the last note faint. This means some sort of warning to the flock. It is not the real danger-signal, but is a notice from the lookouts to be on guard ; and after a flock has been scattered it is used as a gathering signal, sepa- rated birds calling to each other from a distance. The real danger-signal is very different, and -sounds like dst-dst-dst, (drawing in the air or breath). Both male and female anger repeat this very rapidly several times with a falling inflection, and when it is sounded excitedly, the whole flock runs to cover. Twittering may be heard either after a flock has been scattered and is collecting, or in the early mornings when the birds come down from the night's roost, and are getting together and deciding where they will have their breakfast. This is a subdued but very pleasant sound, and seems to be in the way of friendly greeting. In early spring these Quails are to be found mostly in pairs. Later, when the nesting season begins, the male takes his stand upon bush, rock, stump, post, or any good vantage point, and gives voice to a single call, re'peated at frequent intervals and loud enough to be heard quite a dis- tance. Whether this note is one of encouragement to his sitting spouse, or whether given to show how good it feels to be alive in the springtime, we cannot know ; but in our California spring it is a most characteristic sound. A Quail's nest is usually but a mere hollow in the ground, perhaps with a little dried grass or a very few feathers as lining, with advantage taken of a stone, shrub, or tuft of grass to help conceal it. It is seldom found, except when the startled mother flies up from almost under one's feet. The. number of eggs varies greatly, and sometimes the little hollow almost overflows with them. As high as thirty-one have been found in a nest by the writer, but the usual number is from fifteen .to twenty. It seems as if more than one bird 'must be laying, in the case of the very large sets, and it is often easy to separate a set into two or three distinct types of mark- ing and shades. The ground-color of the eggs is creamy white, while the markings are irregular spots and blotches of a color from old gold to brown. Some eggs are heavily marked, while others are nearly white. It is a very singular thing that if the eggs are disturbed by a person — even if only touched by one finger — the nest is almost always deserted. One may step within a few inches of a nest and frighten the bird away, not only once but several times, and still the bird will come back. But disturb the eggs ever so slightly — pick up an egg and put it back as near as possible just as it was before — and the next time you go to look at the nest, the eggs are cold, the nest deserted, and possibly robbed by some CALIFORNIA PARTRIDGE Ordei — CALLING Family — ODONTOPHORIDA Genus — LOPHORTYX Species— CALI FORN i CA National Association of Audubon Societies The California Quail 231 jay, snake, or four-footed creature. This is unfortunate, because Quails often select places for their nests near houses or on cultivated lands. Very rarely one will find a Quail's nest in which the eggs are just hatching, and the young have such an instinct for hiding that they will actually run to cover with half of the egg-shell still clinging to their backs ! The tiny youngsters give a little weak-voiced peep or twoj and then all is quiet. They would be stepped on and crushed before they would make their hiding-place known ! They run about in a most lively way by the time they are two or three days old, and are often to be seen along the less-frequented roads in summer time. Like chickens, the Quail love to scratch in the dust, and a dusty road, without too many passers-by, has a strong attraction for them. It is a pretty sight to see the old ones leading the broods in such places, stopping to pick up seeds here and there, with their head-plumes bobbing each time they give a peck at a J*"*' seed, wallowing in the dust now and again, but ever with a watchful eye for danger; while the youngsters run hither and thither, now scattering a little, then closing up again at a warning from the old ones, covering the dust with the tracks of their little feet, and gradually working their way along the road. Each flock of Quails has its own special domain, and never wanders far away; and in the summer, before the birds are made wild by the opening of the shooting-season, any one passing often over a road early in the morning, or late in the afternoon, may see the same flock again and again, and watch the youngsters grow. While the Quails scatter out in pairs in the nesting season, and keep their broods separate for a little time when still very young, they soon begin to band together; and where they are plentiful the bands become larger and larger as fall approaches, until, in places, they number hundreds in a flock. But in the more thickly settled country they are sadly diminishing, and one may find only a small band of ten or twelve living near a spring where he Used to see a hundred. While the California Quail is very wary in some ways, it often takes up its abode in the vicinity of houses, and even in cities where there are gardens with shrubbery. Unlike the eastern Quail — the Bobwhite — which spends the night on the ground, the California Quails invariably roost in hushes or trees, and sometimes take possession of a garden, and even walk around the porches of houses ^" ' where protected from marauders. 'But let anyone try to get near them, and off they go, with their peculiar whirring of the wings. This bird can be more or less domesticated by keeping it in an enclosed place, and sometimes it nests in confinement, but it seldom gets really tame. In some parts of the State, especially in the southern interior, these Quails will run long distances, instead of flying, when disturbed by the hunter — often as far as half a mile. In the more wooded parts they fly inio trees, where they manage to hide themselves in such a manner 232 The California Quail that it is almost impossible to see them ; while, if you do happen to get your eye on one, he seems to know it on the instant, and is off like a shot. Their power of concealment is remarkable under any circum- stances. Even on the barest sort of ground, where perhaps a dry sea- son has allowed of but little growth of grass, and that little has been gnawed off by the hungry cattle until only a few shreds of fine straw lie on the ground, the Quail will take advantage of a little hollow no bigger than the palm of one's hand, or a stick, bit of stone, anything at all, and become invisible. The California Quail does not eat many harmful insects, but is of much benefit as a destroyer of weed-seeds. It is fond o£ grain> an(j may scratch up and eat a little in a sown grainfield, before and after the grain has sprouted ; but even then it is eating a lot of weed-seeds as well, and does much good in other places and at other times of year. When present in large numbers, it will eat a lot of grain that has fallen on the ground after harvest, and which would be picked up by hogs or sheep in the usual method of farming, but it does very little damage to the standing grain. The principal complaint against the Quail is from the vineyard men. The bird seems to delight in vineyards, and often large flocks will make their abode therein, possibly as much for the cover and protection from hawks as for the fruit itself. Whichever it is, many grapes are pecked as they ripen, when the "yellow-jackets" (a kind of wasp) begin work at the opening made by the Quail, and soon leave nothing but the empty skin. Only a few may be pecked in a bunch, but it injures the value and weight of it. However, it is more likely that other birds do a good deal of damage for which the poor Quail is blamed. Classification and Distribution The California or Mountain Quail belongs to the Order Gallince, and to the Family Odontophoridce. Its scientific name is Lophortyx californica californica. A subspecies, the Valley Quail, is named L. c. vallicola. It inhabits the Pacific Coast region between Oregon and the southern part of California. This and other Educational Leaflets are for Sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audabon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE NUTHATCHES By FRANCIS H. ALLEN THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 59 There is something eerie about these little birds, with their quaint form and queer ways ; but if a bird wants to hop down a tree-trunk as well as up it, he must dispense with the use of his tail as a support and depend entirely upon his two feet, and to balance himself properly not only must the feet be strong, the hind toe long, and the claws sharp and hooked, but the whole bird must be made short and compact. Now, the Nuthatch needs a fairly long bill to poke deeply into the crevices of the bark for his insect-food, and a fairly stout one to pry off the chips and dig it out, so that the economy in length must be in his neck and his tail. And here we have our bird, as Nature has made him, and as Mr. Brasher has drawn him — -'a short, squat figure, with a tail only long enough to balance his beak and steady him in flight, but with capable feet. But why should a bird wish to travel downwards on a tree-trunk? To get his daily bread in the way that seems most natural and easy to him. Evidently the Nuthatch is filling a gap in nature. He would not have adopted so unusual a method of feeding if it had not stood him in good stead. I suspect that by approaching his prey from above he detects insects and insect-eggs in the crevices of the bark which would be hidden from another point of view. The woodpeckers and the creepers can take care of the rest. Of course these other birds get something of a downward view as they bend their heads forward, but the Nuthatch has the advantage of seeing, before he gets to them, some insects which even a Brown Creeper's gentle approach would scare into closer hiding in their holes and crannies. To most of us who live in the Northern States the Nuthatch is THE WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. We know him best as a welcome pensioner on our winter boiinty and an industrious gleaner of insect-food from the trunks and branches of the leafless trees in autumn, winter, and early spring. We love his familiar unmusical notes, which seem so friendly to us, perhaps because triey really express an unusual appreciation of the companionship of his kind. The most striking of these is the one commonly interpreted as (]ndnk. To my ear, however, though nasal, it has nothing of the nk in it, while it has a distinct r-like quaver. It may be rendered as pr-r-aap, sounded through the nose. Another note, reserved for closer com- 234 The Nuthatches panionship, or soliloquy, is like the syllable tilt, pronounced as in Ger- man, very short and slight, and repeated irregularly and indefinitely. The home life of the Nuthatch in summer is not so well known to most of us as his winter ways, because he is rather retiring during the nesting-season, preferring woods with a growth of large oaks or other hardwood trees to the neighborhood of human habitations. The spring song, however, begins before the bird leaves his winter haunts. It resembles the familiar laugh of the Flicker, but is not SSomf nearly so loud, and is more pleasing. It consists of eight or ten repetitions of a single syllable — what, or ha-ha-ha-ha, etc. — more liquid in quality than the call-note. The nest, which is placed in a hole in a tree, or in some similar situa- tion, is prepared in March or April, according to locality. The hole is usually a natural one in a decayed part of a living tree, or in a dead tree or stub. It is enlarged and shaped by the birds, both sexes working together. The lining is made of such materials as feathers, hair, fur, bark-strips, and leaves, loosely thrown together. From six to nine eggs are laid, white or cream-white, thickly and uniformly spotted with reddish brown and lavender. The male White-breasted Nuthatch is a particularly devoted hus- band. He carries food to his sitting mate, calling her to the mouth of the nesting-hole to receive it. At other times of the year, too, the pair keep together faithfully, hunting their food in close proximity to each other, and keeping up a continuous conversation of pr-r-ddps and tilt-tilts. The Nuthatch has a stout bill and a strong •^cafcher'" gizzard; and when he finds his in sect-food scarce he ekes out his subsistence with seeds and nuts. The habit of "hatching," or hacking, chestnuts, beechnuts, acorns and similar soft-shelled nuts, has given his kind its name of Nuthatch. The nut is wedged into a crevice that will hold it firm, while the bird hammers it open. Another interesting habit of this, and the related species, is that of hiding nuts in cracks and crevices in the bark of trees, holes in fence-posts and like places, presumably for the purpose of keep- ing them for future use. This vegetable food, however, seems to form a small part of the White-breasted Nuthatch's diet. Edward H. Forbush regards this bird as a valuable aid to the orchardist and forester. It feeds largely on beetles, including the boring beetles, on scale-insects, and on many hibernating eggs, larvae, and pupae of insects. Ants and spiders, and canker-worms, forest caterpillars, and plant-lice are also eaten. One pair in Brookline, Massachusetts, was seen to search beneath the burlap bands placed about shade-trees to guard against the ascent of caterpillars of the gipsy-moth, which the birds fed to their young in large numbers. I have this minute been watching a pair of these Nuthatches feeding in my apple-trees and pear-trees. They traveled restlessly up and down and around the trunk and branches, never proceeding very far in a straight line, and stopping at every few hops to dig out a grub, hammer- WHITE -BREASTED NUTHATCH. RED -BREASTED NUTHATCH. UPPER FIGURES, MALE AND FEMALE LOWER FIGURES. MALE AND FEMALE Order — PASSHI Genus — SITTA Family — SITTID>« Species — CAROLINBNSIS AND CANADE National Association of Audubon Societies The Nuthatches 235 ing like a Woodpecker and making the chips of bark fly. When in a precarious position on the under side of a limb the bird held itself by keeping its legs stretched far apart and its claws firmly anchored to the rough bark, the large hooked hind claw apparently doing most of the work. The birds kept up a lively conversation as they worked, and now and then looked off while clinging head downward, assuming that quaint posture so characteristic of their kind; finally they flew away with a whir of wings and an undulating Flight and flight, and I returned to my desk by the window. Although the breeding-range of the White-breasted Nuthatch is virtually coincident with its entire range, it seems to be somewhat migratory in its habits, and probably breeds most numerously in the northern part, and does not winter in any numbers much farther north than Massachusetts. THE RED-BREASTED NUTHATCH To those who know it the Red-breasted Nuthatch is dear out of all proportion to its size and its musical attainments. It is livelier than its big cousin, and prettier in its markings, and there is something partic- ularly fetching about its quaint little form. It is even less of a songster than the White-breasted species, for prolongations and repetitions of its call-note seem to be all it has that can pass for a song. This call-note can be rendered as dap. It is nasal, like that of the White-breasted Nut- hatch, but much higher in pitch, more drawling, and lacks the r. It has been happily likened to the sound of a tiny trumpet or tin horn. The habits of the Red-breasted Nuthatch are so like those of the White-breasted that much that I have said about that species is applicable to this. The most striking difference is in the favorite haunts of the two birds, the Red-breasted preferring the coniferous woods, or mixed woods that contain a large proportion of evergreens. In those winters when they are found in southern New England they come freely to the neighborhood of man's dwellings and feed familiarly on the supplies pro- vided for the winter birds, but even there they show their partiality for coniferous trees. They are particularly fond of the seeds of pines and spruces, so that they are much more vegetarian than their White-breasted cousins. They have the same . Habits of , , . . .... ... . . the Redbreast habit of hiding their savings in cracks and crevices. This Nuthatch does eat insect-food, however, and may often be seen hopping up and down the trunks and over the branches of trees. It feeds among the small branches and twigs more than its cousin ; and, according to W. B. Barrows, in his "Michigan Bird Life," is often seen investigating tufts of dead leaves of deciduous trees. If this latter habit is a well-developed one, the bird should be useful in destroying nests of the brown-tail moth. The Red-breasted Nuthatch excavates its nesting-hole usually in dead or partly decayed trees. O. W. Knight, in his book,. Birds of Maine, says that a balsam-fir stub is the favorite tree for the purpose; 236 The Nuthatches one with punky wood, but the bark still clinging. In other cases poplar trees and birches are chosen, but the locality is usually in spruce woods, or at least in woods where conifers abound. Both sexes work at the exca- vation. The hole is usually lined with finely shredded bark or wood- fibers, and perhaps with soft grasses or feathers. The eggs number four to six or seven, are white or cream-white, and speckled with reddish- brown and lavender. The most remarkable and char- PNest-ho1ed acteristic thing about the nest is that the entrance- hole is invariably surrounded by a ring of pitch, brought from a neighboring spruce, pine, or balsam fir. It breeds in the Canadian fauna, and its migrations are dependent largely on the cone-crop in the forests about its home. If cones are abundant in the White Mountains, for instance, the Red-breasted Nut- hatches of that region remain there for the winter. If, however, the crop is a failure, as not infrequently happens, the birds go southward in late summer and early autumn. When they migrate south they are rather likely to go beyond southern New England. One interesting habit of this bird, in connection with its migration, is the curious one of dropping down on ships at sea. Birds of many kinds occasionally alight on ships far away from land, but no other, .1 think, so habitually as the Red-breasted Nuthatch. It may be seen on such occasions traveling in its characteristic fashion up and down the masts and shrouds, and even alighting on the hats and clothing of persons on deck. Red-breasted Nuthatches are also frequently found climbing over the rocks on the seashore, or on islands off-shore. I suspect that these little birds, not accustomed to long flights, on finding themselves far from land, are glad to drop down on anything that promises to give them a foothold and a prospect of rest and food. They show their adaptability by making the best of things wherever they find themselves, and on sea, as on land, they win the hearts of men. The Brown-headed Nuthatch (Sitta pusilla) is a species of the pine- regions of the Southern States ; is somewhat smaller Nuthatches than the Red-breasted, and has the top of the head brownish-gray, and a whitish patch on the nape. The Pygmy Nuthatch (Sitta pygmaa) is even a trifle smaller than the Brown-headed, and has a grayish-olive crown and buffy-white under- parts ; its habitat is west of the Rocky Mountains. Classification and Distribution The Nuthatches belong to the Order Passeres, Suborder Oscines, Family Sittidce and Genus Sitta. The White-breasted is named Sitta carolinensis. It ranges over all temperate North America, and five geographical races are recog- nized. The Red-breasted is named Sitta canadensis. Its range in the breeding season is more northerly than that of the White-breasted, and it shows more ten- dency toward migration. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, hy the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE WILLOW PTARMIGAN By JOSEPH GRINNELL THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 60 The word Ptarmigan is applied to several species and races of grouse- like birds comprising the genus Lagopus. The name was chosen appro- priately, for lagopus (Latin) signifies "rabbit-foot," and refers to the chief character by which ptarmigans are distinguished from other members of the grouse family, namely, the heavy clothing of hair-like feathers which envelops the feet. In all but one of the species remark- able changes of plumage take place twice a year, through which there is acquired for the winter season a snow-white dress. This, and the fact that ptarmigans live in the far North or on the tops of snowy mountains, gave to these birds their other name, Snow Grouse, used commonly in Alaska. North America has three distinct species of ptarmigan. One of them, the White-tailed, lives upon the snowy summits of the Rocky Mountains south as far as northern New Mexico. The Rock Ptarmigan inhabits the mountainous country farther north, and, as represented by various subspecies, is found from Greenland across the continent and on nearly every one of the long chain of Aleutian Islands. The third American species, the Willow Ptarmigan, with which the present essay is concerned, is most abundant on that level or rolling arctic prairie-land known as tundra. This tundra extends almost unbrokenly across North America from Labrador to western Alaska, and may be said, in a general way, to occupy the interval between the northern limit of forest-growth and the Arctic Ocean. In western and northern Alaska it is covered with a deep layer of moss and lichens; and here or there in "draws," or shallow valleys, are tracts of dwarfed willows and alders. Save for black tail-feathers, almost completely concealed when the bird is at rest, and the black of the bill and eyes, the Willow Ptarmigan in winter is pure white. When the A Protectlve white feathers first appear, in the fall, they possess a perceptible, though faint, tinge of pink ; but this soon fades out. The purely white winter dress is believed to make the birds so incon- spicuous against the white of the landscape that many times they escape discovery by their enemies, the arctic fox and gyrfalcon, as well as by the human hunter. On a day when the sky is overcast with dense haze, dis- persing an intense, even light, the ptarmigans are extremely hard to dis- cern agains the blank whiteness of their surroundings. Even when fresh t""t prints in the snow and occasional cries told of their near vicinity. I 237 238 The Willow Ptarmigan have often found myself to be within but a few yards of the birds before they would take flight with a startling whirr of wings and hoarse notes of alarm. Then, as one would alight at some distance, it would seemingly vanish from the sight, frequently defying rediscovery. On the occasional cloudless day, when the sun shines unobstructedly, even white objects are brought out in sharp relief by their long, dark shadows, cast upon the snow. If approached then, at right angles to the rays from the sun, the ptarmigans may be discerned at the distance of several hundred yards ; but they are then shy, for they have a marvelous way of appearing to know whether or not the hunter is actually aware of their exact position. During the eight months of winter Willow Ptarmigans feed upon the buds and tender terminal twigs of the dwarf alder and Winter willow and virtually nothing else, save that quartz gravel is regularly gathered from the river-bars, where the wind bares the ground of snow. The Willow Ptarmigan is by nature gregarious. Especially is this trait exhibited in the autumn months, when in the most northern localities a partial migration is taken a few hundred miles to the south, or into great valleys where more food and better cover are afforded, for the birds show a predilection for the vicinity of brush-patches and tracts of stunted spruce-trees. Frequently they escape from the dash of a falcon by taking refuge in a bush, among whose stems the snow rests lightly, and into which the frightened bird is able to plunge quite out of sight. In the early spring, long before the thaw commences in earnest, the male ptarmigan begins to change to a rich chestnut-brown color on the head and chest, and a bright red comb develops above each eye. For a time, in April and early May, the males, with their deep brown mantles and white bodies, are very conspicuous. They are then more noisy than at any other season,- uttering, at frequent intervals until late dusk, a low, harsh cackle, roughly imitated in the Eskimo . Chan^es name for the Willow Ptarmigan, A-kaze-rh-gak. The male wears this special courting-plumage until June, when another change, involving the whole body-plumage, leads to a brown-black-and-buff plumage, which is worn until autumn. The females, meanwhile, change rapidly in early May, about the time the snow begins to disappear, to a mottled-and-barred, black-and-brown coloration. In this "summer protective" plumage the birds of both sexes are as difficult to see against the green, brown and gray of the open tundra, as they were in winter plumage against the white landscape. All these remarkable changes in appearance are the result of molts, by which feathers of one color fall out and new ones of a different color grow in. In the autumn, exactly the same process leads from the brown and mottled coloring of both old birds and young-of-the-year to the pure white of winter dress. But while in the snring molt the feathers of the head, neck, and back are the first to be replaced, in the fall these are the The Willow Ptarmigan 239 last tracts affected ; so that by the middle of October some will be seen with dark feathers still predominating in the head and back. This, of course, gives much the same effect as at an early stage of the spring molt. The Willow Ptarmigan selects the site for its nest during the third week of May, and by the second week of June sets of eggs are usually complete. The nest is a slight depression in the moss on the open ground ; usually the summit of a hum- mock is selected, as being a drier situation during the period of early summer rains. A scanty lining of dry grasses keeps the eggs from actual contact with the saturated moss of the foundation. The full set of eggs numbers from eleven to thirteen. They are very deeply and closely spotted and blotched with chestnut-brown, the effect being to render them difficult to distinguish from their surroundings. The female does all of the sitting, and when approached on the nest does not take flight until almost trodden upon. She then exhibits the greatest solicitude, tumbling about within a few yards of the intruder in the most distressing manner; but the male bird stays at a more discreet distance. After the eggs are hatched, the precocious young- sters are accompanied by both parents. They then Precocious have the faculty, like that of young quails and grouse, of concealing themselves at a moment's notice, while the parents attempt to call the intruder's attention elsewhere. The young at first are clothed with yellow and brown down ; but before they are half-grown this is entirely replaced by loose-textured feathers, and even before half-grown the chicks are able to fly as readily as the adults. In summer, the Willow Ptarmigan's bill of fare includes many sorts of insects, as well as green herbs. In the fall, the abundant crops of blueberries, heathberries, cranberries, and roseapples are freely resorted to, and these fruits again become available the following spring, when the retreating snow leaves them exposed. The reader will have marveled already at the special and useful modi- fications in the habits and structure of the ptarmigan, which enable it to carry on a successful existence under so extreme a winter climate. Per- haps the most wonderful thing about the bird is its alternating adaptations to the opposite conditions of the short summer. Not only is the summer plumage of a totally different gen- Molting eral color, as already described, but it is much less dense than the winter plumage. The molts, however, do not affect the feathers of every part of the body. Those of the wings and tail are changed only at the time of the fall molt which, in fact, is the only com- plete molt. The feathers of the feet and legs are not replaced in the spring: but. as summer advances, the old feathers become brittle and TiVdr off, until midsummer finds the birds with almost naked feet — a heavy feathering at that season probably being not only needless but a hindrance, as it would certainly become when wet. The toe-nails in winter are so long as to project considerably beyond 240 The Willow Ptarmigan the generous feathering of the feet and toes, and probably serve as "ice- creepers," of great use in walking or wallowing in crusty snow. But the extraordinary thing is that in summer the old toe-nails drop off, replaced by new ones growing from the quick ! In winter plumage, one set of feathers fails' to conform to the general whiteness — the tail-feathers. When the bird is at rest, the very long upper and under tail-coverts almost completely conceal these black tail-feathers, which are then closed together in narrow ranks. But, when the bird takes flight, the tail is widely spread, and a black "directive" marking flashes forth against the white background. In summer, the wing-feathers, persisting from the winter dress, are unnoticed in the Markings ^r^ a* rest ' ^ut' as ^ie wmSs are spread in flight, they furnish a conspicuous "directive" pattern against the dark landscape, the black tail-feathers being then ineffective. With all its marvelous fitness, the ptarmigan has much to contend with — the arctic fox, the weasel, the Rough-legged Hawk, the Gyrfalcon and the human hunter. Looked at from the utilitarian standpoint, it affords, on the far north- ern frontier, an even more important game-resource than did the eastern gallinaceous birds in the early days of the settlement of the States. The weight of a Willow Ptarmigan is one and one-half pounds, so that each bird affords as much food as four or five Bob-whites. In most of the vast North conditions yet remain primitive, so far as wild game is concerned. But, around the mining settlements in Alaska and Yukon Territory, the larger animals have been much reduced in numbers, or entirely used up, and many natural enemies of these birds have boen reduced to small numbers. This doubtless has served to offset the effect of firearms, so that only in the near neighborhood of settlements has there been a notable decrease in the number of Willow Ptarmigans. Classification and Distribution The Willow Ptarmigan belongs to the Order Gallincc, the Family Tetraonida, and the Genus Lagopus. Its scientific name is Lagopus lagopus lagopus. It in- habits the Arctic Zone generally, residing and breeding from the polar islands south to the Aleutian Islands, central Alberta (along the mountains), central Mackenzie, all around Hudson Bay and thence east to southern Labrador. In winter it ranges southward to the Saskatchewan River and Quebec. Two subspecies are recog- nized— Allen's Ptarmigan (L.I. alleni) of Newfoundland, and Alexander's Ptarmi- gan (L.I. alexandra:) of the islands of southern Alaska west to the Shumagin group. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the Isational Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE CHICKADEE By EDWARD HOWE FORBUSH THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 61 Autumn has come — the waning of the year. The rising wind sighs among the lofty pines, shaking out old and yellowing needles from each tufted twig; and lightly they rain down, renewing the soft and springy carpet of the forest's floor. The somber sky, with leaden, hurrying clouds, portends the coming storm ; jays cry mournfully ; crows fuss and caw ; but here comes Chickadee, flitting from twig to twig, as blithe and unconcerned as if it were always summer. When winter winds rage in the forest and snow thickens the air, YOUNG CHICKADEES From a Photograph by Herbert K. Job Chickadee, merry and unafraid, hustles about amid the storm, fills his little stomach with insects, and, as the dreary night shuts down, hies him to some snug, sheltered refuge, where, warm and dry, he sleeps away the long winter night. Nothing daunts him but the ice-storm, which crusts the trees and covers his food with a heavy crystal sheath. Then, indeed, he creeps to shelter, wherever it may be found, and there he stays until the storm is spent. Many children will recall the nursery-rhyme about "Little Tommy Tittlemouse," who "lives in a little house." The Chickadee belongs to the Titmouse family, which contains a large number of species scattered 242 The Chickadee .widely over the northern hemisphere, and highly serviceable to civilized mankind. Our Black-capped Chickadee may be found at some, if not all, seasons of the year in eastern Canada and the northeastern United States, where it is the prevailing woodland bird, particularly in winter. A hole in a decayed birch-stump, two or three feet from the ground, a knot-hole in an old apple-tree, in a fence-post, or in an elm, forty or fifty feet from the ground, the deserted home of some woodpecker, or a nesting-box, may be selected by the Chickadee for its Nell-hole home. Commonly it digs out a nest-hole in the decay- ing stump of a birch or pine. It is unable to penetrate sound wood, for I have seen it try to enlarge a small hole in a white-pine nesting-box, but fail to start a chip. Often the Chickadee gains an entrance through the hard outer coating of a post or stump into the decaying interior by choosing, as a vantage-point, a hole made by some woodpecker in search of a grub. The Chickadee works industriously to deepen and enlarge this cavity, sometimes making a hole nine or more inches deep ; and the little bird is wise enough to carry the tell-tale chips away and scatter them far and wide — something the woodpeckers are less careful to do. Sometimes the hole is excavated in the broken top of a leaning stump or tree, and once I found one in the top of an erect white- pine stump with no shelter from the storm. The nest is placed at the bottom of the hole, and is made of such warm materials as cottony vegetable fibers, hairs, wool, mosses, feathers, and insects' cocoons. Every furry denizen of the woods, and some domestic animals, may sometimes contribute hair or fur to the Chickadee's nest. One nest was made entirely of cotton that had been placed in a nesting- box for the use of the birds. The eggs vary somewhat in color, but are commonly white, spotted with reddish brown or finely marked with a paler shade. Both birds take turns in sitting, and the eggs hatch in about eleven days, the last one laid requiring sometimes twelve or thirteen days. The young leave the nest in about two weeks from the date of hatching. Sometimes two broods are reared in a season. Chickadee is a very attentive little husband, often visits his mate while she is sitting on her eggs, and, besides relieving her of a part of this labor, frequently feeds her on the nest. The Chickadee has named himself, and repeats his name often, with several additional dee-dees or chee-dees. Toward spring, he sometimes attempts to "pour out his soul in song," but a few jingling notes represent his finest efforts. The long, pensive, musical phccbe, which he utters most often at that season, given with the first note accented and the last falling, is regarded by many writers as his song, but it is uttered by both sexes. The young in the nest give a faint and wheezing imitation of the chicadee, and, when they cry all together, their combined voices suggest the hissing of some huge snake. CHICKADEE Order — PASSERES Genus— PENTHKSTES Family— PARID^ Speci es— ATR ICAPI LLUS National Association of Audubcn Societies The Chickadee 243 It's impossible to do more than touch upon the habits of this delightful bird in a leaflet like this. An adequate history of its bright and cunning ways, its many expedients and devices, would fill a book. Its chief apparent characteristics, from a An Optimist human point of view, are courage, optimism, industry, activity, helpfulness, and joy in life. Emerson calls the Chickadee "a scrap of valor." One gifted writer says of its activity: Chickadee refuses to look down for long upon the world ; or indeed to look at any one thing from any direction for more than two consecu- tive twelfths of a second. "Any side up, without care," is the label he bears ; and so with anything he meets, be it a pine-cone, an alder-catkin, or a bug-bearing branchlet ; topside, bottomside, inside, outside, all is right side to the nimble Chickadee Blind-man's buff, hide-and- seek, and tag are merry games enough when played out on one plane; but when staged in three dimensions, with a labyrinth of interlacing branches for hazard, only the blithe bird whose praises we sing could promptly master their intricacies. Although he is no fly catcher, the Chickadee takes insects on the wing with ease, and often catches in the air those which fall from the trees or from his own clutch. I have seen a Chickadee reach after a flying insect, spring back downward, catch it in> the air, and, turning a somersault, alight on a branch below. Another swung completely around a branch, like a gymnast doing the "giant swing." Every pose possible to a bird in a tree is taken by our little acrobat. His head turns quickly from side to side, his wings and tail flirt this way and that, as he turns, twists, pecks, and peers in pursuit of the insects which form the greater part of his food. Often his prying habits lead him to the hiding-place of a dozing owl, and then, no matter how large and powerful the enemy. Chickadee raises the alarm and sounds the attack, stirring and leading the feathered mob which gathers to execrate the common foe. Notwithstanding his small size, this diminutive, black-capped bird is a leader. After the breeding-season, he is almost always the central figure and foremost spirit of a little band of warblers, nuthatches, creep- ers and kinglets, and is frequently followed by a woodpecker or two. In autumn, Chickadees gather into bands of one or more families and scour the woods, searching out the most favorable localities for their food. Migrat- ing warblers follow their call, knowing that it always leads them to food. Chickadee knows the ground ; he has spied out the land, and in- vites all to join in his good cheer. Follow the Chickadee, and you will see, sooner or later, most of the woodland birds. lUit he is not. by am means, confined to the woods. He visits the orchard and the shade-trees, picks up crumbs at the farm- house door, enters the wood-shed, picks out borers from the firewood, and helps himself to the bacon that the fanner uses to grease his buck- 244 The Chickadee saw. He confides in man to a remarkable degree. He hangs about the camp of the wood-chopper, looks for the "full dinner-pail," and sometimes comes and feeds from the hand. Many times in the woods his curiosity has led him to fly close about my head and peer with bead- like eyes into my face, and in numberless instances he has placed absolute confidence in those who have fed him in winter. Probably no bird is more beneficial to mankind than is this little Titmouse. He lives very largely on insects destruc- Preserver ^ye to ^rees . even m wjnter, much more than half his food consists of insects or their eggs. Myriads of the eggs of plant-lice, bugs, canker-worms, moths and bark-lice are eaten. No insect appears to be too large for him, and none too small to escape his sharp eyes and his little pointed bill. If a caterpillar is too big for him to swallow, he holds it under foot and pecks out its vitals, discard- ing the rest. If the larva is too large and powerful to be held in this way, the bird draws it over a twig, and, seizing both ends in his feet, swings back downward underneath the twig, pecking away until he has reduced the struggling captive to submission. Many larvae, including those of the apple-moth and the gipsy-moth, destructive bark-beetles, some weevils and scale-insects, are killed in myriads by the Chickadee. C. E. Bailey computed that one Chickadee would destroy 138,750 eggs of the canker-worm-moth in 25 days. Pro- fessor Sanderson estimates that 8,000,000,000 insects are destroyed by Chickadees each year in Michigan. . My own experi- y"pte*:tor ence, for ten years, has shown that trees may be abso- lutely protected from leaf-eating insects by attract- ing Chickadees through the year. Our little Titmouse does not depend entirely on animal food, and therefore can exist when the trees are incased in ice and snow. He takes some weed-seeds, picks up a little waste grain, eats the seeds of pine, hemlock, alder, and some other trees, and a few winter berries, partic- ularly those of the wax-myrtle, or bayberry. Sunflower-seeds, meat, suet, and nuts are relished when he can get them, but he is not known to have any harmful habits. Classification and Distribution The Chickadee belongs to the Order Passeres, Family Paridcc, and Genus Penthestes; its scientific name is Penthestes atricapillus atricapillus. This, the Black-capped Chickadee, is resident throughout the northeastern United States, and southeastern Canada. Three other subspecies have been defined, i — Long- tailed Chickadee, P. a. septentrionalis, of the western interior and the Rocky Moun- tain region, from southern Alaska to Kansas. 2 — Oregon Chickadee, P. a. occi- dentalis, of the Pacific coast-region from British Columbia to Oregon. 3— Yukon Chickadee, P. a. turneri, of northern Alaska. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National As^iation of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE HUDSONIAN CURLEW By A. C. BENT THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 62 A striking case of the survival of the fittest is seen when we compare the relative abundance of the three common species of North American curlews today with their status fifty years ago. Whereas, at that time, the Hudsonian Curlew was the rarest of the three, it is now by far the commonest. The vast flocks of Eskimo Curlews that formerly frequented the Labrador coast every summer or visited the New England coast at frequent intervals, have all disappeared. They were tame and unsuspi- cious, were easily decoyed, and were therefore slaugh- tered in enormous numbers on their feeding-grounds ; Declining and when autumn came they made a long migratory flight over the ocean from Nova Scotia to South America, in the course of which many undoubtedly perished in stormy weather. The Long-billed Curlew, once so common all over the interior prairie regions, and even on the Atlantic Coast, has gradually been driven west- ward and northward, until it is now occupying a comparatively restricted range. It is so large and conspicuous a species that it has been much sought after by gunners, and, as it is not particularly shy, it has suc- cumbed to persecution ; moreover the cultivation and settlement of the prairies have driven it from, or destroyed, its favorite breeding-grounds. The Long-billed will probably be the next of the curlews to disappear, perhaps within the near future. The reasons for the Hudsonian Curlew's success in the struggle for existence are not hard to find. Its breeding-grounds are in the far North, where it is never disturbed ; it has no dangerous mi- gration-route ; it does not, ordinarily, migrate in very Qualities1 large flocks, which are susceptible to vicissitudes of weather and great slaughter at the hands of gunners; but, above all, it is a shy, wary, wily bird, quite capable of taking care of itself and well- fitted to survive. Like the Crow, it is more than a match for its enemies. There is no bird that has been more universally persecuted than the Crow, every man's hand is against it, yet it is as abundant as ever. The Hudsonian Curlew, Jack Curlew, Short-billed Curlew, or Jack, as it is variously called, has often been mistaken by gunners for each of the other species, and some confusion seems to have existed, in regard to it, among the early writers on ornithology. Wilson does not seem to have recognized this species at all, or to have confused it with the Eskimo ( urlcu ; and Xuttall's remarks are not altogether clear on the subject. 246 The Hudsonian Curlew There is so much variation in the length of the bill, at various ages, that young birds with short bills are often mistaken for the Eskimo Curlew, and old birds with extra long bills are often called Long-billed Curlews, or Sickle-bills. There are certain characters, however, by which this species may be recognized at any age. The Long-billed Curlew is much larger, the crown of its head is uniformly streaked, without any median stripe, and its axillars have no distinct bars ; whereas the Hudsonian has a dusky crown with a light median stripe, and its axillars are distinctly barred with dusky. The Eskimo Curlew may readily be dis- tinguished by its uniformly dusky primaries ; where- reatures . . TT , • i • • i j-i-^ure as in the Hudsonian the primaries have distinct buff spots, or partial bars, on the inner webs. The Hudsonian Curlew is widely distributed over nearly all of North America and part of South America. Its breeding-range has not been fully worked cut, but it is known 'to breed on the Barren Grounds of northern Mackenzie, and on the coast of Alaska from the mouth of the Yukon to Kotzebue Sound. Its principal winter range is on the western coast of South America from Ecuador to southern Chile, where it is very abundant ; it also winters from Lower California to the coast of southern Honduras ; and on the eastern coast its winter range extends from British Guiana to the mouth of the Amazon River. The spring migration on the Atlantic coast reaches Florida during the latter half of March, the Carolinas about the middle of April, and Massachusetts about the middle of May. The dates vary greatly in different seasons, the northward movement being very gradual and the migration-period often much prolonged. On the Pacific coast, the main flight appears in southern California about the middle of March, pro- gresses slowly northward, reaches Alaska about the middle of May, and arrives on the breeding-grounds in northern Mackenzie by the end of May. Like most of the northern-breeding shore-birds, the Hudsonian Cur- lew moves off its breeding-grounds as soon as the Migration young are able to shift for themselves, and begins its summer wanderings, or starts on its southward migra- tion, early in July. There are two main lines of flight, down the east and west coasts of the continent, as well as a more scattering flight through the central valleys and plains. The eastward flight is from the west coast of Hudson Bay, where many birds linger through August, to the coasts of New England and southward. A few Hudsonian Curlews migrate as far east as Labrador ; the species has never been common there, but since the disappearance of the Eskimo Curlew it seems to have increased. On the New England coast the heavy flights often occur in September, and young birds often linger until well into October. The southward movement in the fall is very deliberate, and the last of the birds do not pass through the West Indies to South America until fT il The Hudsonian Curlew 247 November. As with all the shore-birds, the early flights are composed almost entirely of adult birds, and the flights of young birds follow, on an average, about a month later. The Pacific Coast flights occur on corresponding dates. The early flights of adults reach California about the middle of July; and on the coast of Peru they make their appearance early in August. Young birds are common about Nome, Alaska, until the first of September, when large numbers are brought into the markets, with a few Bristle-thighed Curlews. Very little seems to be known about the nesting habits of the Hud- sonian Curlew. Mr. MacFarlane found them breeding on the treeless Arctic tundra near the mouth of the Anderson River, where he took several sets of eggs late in June and early in July ; the nests were merely depressions in the ground lined with a few withered leaves. J. O. Stringer described a nest found on an island in the Nest and Eggs lower Mackenzie River, as a pile of grass, moss, and weeds. Joseph Grinnell reported this species as breeding in the Kowak Valley, Alaska, between June 14 and 20, 1899. The eggs vary in color from creamy drab to brownish buff, and are more or less heavily spotted with various shades of brown. Young birds in the fall may be distinguished from adults by their shorter bills, and by the conspicuous buff spots on the upper parts. The Hudsonian Curlew is more of a littoral species than either of the others, and seems to prefer to frequent and feed on the seacoast. At low tide it resorts to the recently uncovered flats and beaches, where it can pick up marine insects, worms, and small crustaceans. George H. Mackay says of its feeding habits in Massachusetts : "The Hudsonian Curlew is a tide bird, frequenting the sand flats near the edge of the water, when they become uncovered, and resorting to marshes and uplands when driven from the former by the in-coming tide. They feed on fiddler crabs, grasshoppers, and the large gray sand-spiders (Lycosa) which live in holes in the sand among the beach-grass adjacent to headlands ; huckleberries, which they pick from the bushes; and on beetles. All this is usually mixed \vith coarse gravel. When a flock of these birds is on the ground where they have been feeding, they become scattered, twenty-five or thirty birds covering fifteen or twenty yards apiece. At such times they do not appear to be par- ticularly active, moving about in a rather slow, stately manner, although once in a while I have seen them run." On their inland resorts they prefer to frequent the shores of lakes, ponds, and marshes, but are fre- quently seen on the upland pastures, feeding on grasshoppers, beetles, or berries. The flight of the Hudsonian Curlew is rather slow and steady, but strong and protracted. When migrating, they usually fly high in the air in small flocks, much after the manner of ducks and geese. During the spring migration on the coast of South Carolina, they congregate in im- 248 The Hudsonian Curlew raense flocks, sometimes numbering several thousand, where they feed about the shores of the islands off the coast, roosting on the outer sand- bars, and flying to and from their feeding-grounds in dense flocks, often close to the water. On the New England coast, they seldom fly in large flocks, and are often seen singly, circling high in the air, and responding readily to an imitation of their whistle. It is useless to attempt to stalk the adult birds, and they will not ccme to the decoys unless the blind is well concealed in the beach-grass or among bushes. Young birds, on the contrary, are quite unsuspicious and will decoy well. When coming to the decoys, they set their wings and scale for a long distance, in open formation and scanning the ground carefully. Their keen eyes will detect the slightest movement, or the presence of any unusual object, which will cause them to wheel or spring into the air and fly away. Their loud, whistling notes are characteristic and easily imitated. Mr. Mackay has well described them as follows : "They make two notes, one a very clear, penetrating, staccato whistle, repeated four or five times in quick succession, and which is very far-reaching. It is given when flying, also when alarmed, and on taking flight. The other consists of two low, straight whistles, or notes, when a flock is Notes alighting. Flocks also make a rolling note, lasting as long as it would take to count six or seven. The sound is similar to that produced by a boy's lead bird-whistle filled with water. It is uttered when the birds approach, and are over a marsh or feeding-ground, at an altitude of sixty or seventy yards. I have never heard of its being made by single birds." They also have a soft musical curlew note, more often heard in the spring. Classification and Distribution The Hudsonian Curlew belongs to the Order Limicolce, the Family Scolopacidcc, and the Genus Numenius. Its scientific name is Numenius hudsonicus. It ranges throughout both North America and the northern half of South America, mainly near the coasts, and winters in tropical America. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. RUFFED GROUSE By GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 63 The Ruffed Grouse is found all over north-temperate North America, in situations adapted to its habits. Except by sportsmen and real woods- lovers, it is seldom seen, for its life is spent chiefly in thick woods or in the depths of swamps, or along steep, forest-clad hillsides. In thickly settled districts, where much pursued, it is very wary, walking noiselessly away out of sight if it hears an approaching step, or crouching and lying concealed if the intruder comes Haunts suddenly upon it; or, when it believes itself discov- ered, rising from amid a cloud of dry leaves with a roar of wings whose thunder often startles even the seasoned woods-walker. It has different names in different sections: "pheasant" in the South and in parts of the West, and "partridge" in New York and New England. The Ruffed Grouse is a hardy dweller of the North, and fears neither bitter cold nor deep snows. It loves the rough country. Flat grassy plains have no charm for it, nor does it flourish where winters are mild and spring breezes early and genial. Dark forests of pine and hemlock, rock-strewn mountain-sides, and tangled, vinegrown alder swamps suit it best — dim, silent places where only the shy wild things come. Neither heat nor cold trouble it. If for weeks the ground is covered deep witli snow, the grouse takes to the tops of the trees, feed- ing on the buds of apple, poplar, birch, ironwood, and Food willow, and comfortably pulls through seasons of scarcity until the ground is again bare, and it can resume its customary diet of berries, green leaves, fallen nuts, and the fruit of the skunk- cabbage. In the summer, the birds feed on the leaves of growing plants, on insects, grasshoppers, and crickets; and in autumn they depend largely on fruit — berries of all sorts, wild grapes, various nuts, and fallen apples, at which they like to peck. One of the early spring signs that Ruffed Grouse are about is their drumming. It is a low, hollow murmur, like distant thunder, made by the male bird, while standing on a log, stone or stump, and rapidly beating his wings. Few subjects have been more dis- cussed by sportsmen — scientific and non-scientific — Drumming than this mysterious sound. How is it made and why? The complete answer to the first question was given only a few 250 Ruffed Grouse years ago, when Dr. C. F. Hodge photographed a Ruffed Grouse in the act of drumming, and did this over and over again. It was then seen that, instead of doing what tradition had declared — beating his wings against a stone, a hollow log, or his breast — the grouse, in fact, beats them only against the air. While he performs this act, the bird throws himself into various curious and fantastic positions, which one would never expect of a Ruffed Grouse. Obviously, the drumming is a mating call ; though it is quite possible that it may also be a challenge. It is performed in autumn as well as in spring. It is said that on occasions sportsmen, by imitating the drumming sound, have caused grouse in the woods to come to them. The Ruffed Grouse's nest is made, and she begins to lay her eggs, in May ; and it is early June, or the middle of the month, before the tiny young have hatched. When the brood leaves the nest, there Nesting may be from a dozen to twenty of the little fellows, hardly as large as one's thumb, very active on their feet, and covered with a silky, tawny down of various shades. Only by the merest accident and the greatest good fortune can one hope to see one of these little families, and to watch it undisturbed. Usually, if they have any warning, the tiny chicks squat motionless among the dead leaves on the ground, where they escape notice ; while the anxious mother, pre- tending to be hurt and unable to fly, flutters along the ground, trying to lead the enemy to pursue her and to leave the young ones. The ruse is almost always successful. Dog, boy, and man are quite sure to be deceived, and to follow the fluttering bird, which acts as if she were sorely hurt and could be seized the next moment ; but, after she has enticed the pursuer away from the point of danger, she takes wing and flies swiftly away. Once, passing quietly through some big woods, I saw, beyond a little rise only a few steps distant, a dark spot on the leaves, which I recognized as a mother-grouse hovering her brood with outspread Young wings. She was as much surprised as I, and, losing her presence of mind, flew at once, while from the place where she had been nesting fifteen or twenty tiny young streamed out in every direction. Of most of these I at once lost sight, but on one I kept my eye, and presently, taking two or three steps forward, picked it up from the ground. It crouched on my palm, unafraid, looking at me with a bright, soft eye. Perhaps it was a week old, for the quills of the wings were about a quarter of an inch in length. Putting it down on the leaves, I slowly withdrew to a little knoll, forty or fifty feet distant, and there listened and watched for the mother-bird, which soon came creeping cautiously through the undergrowth until within a few feet of where her babies had been left. There she mounted a stump and talked to them in low notes, and there I left her, easy in mind, I hope, about the little family. When autumn comes, and berries and seeds are ripe, and brown nuts RUFFED GROUSE Order— GALLING Family— TETRAONID* Genus— BONASA Species— UMBELLUS National Association of Audubon Societies Ruffed Grouse 251 rattle down from the chestnut-trees, or the wind scatters three-cornered beech-nuts among the thick leaves, the Ruffed Grouse live well and become sturdy and fat, preparing for the winter. Their feathers thicken, the hair-like covering on the legs gets long and warm, and from the side of the toes grow out little horny comb-like appendages, which perhaps may serve in some degree as snow-shoes, supporting the birds when they walk over the deep, light snow of the woods. In the northern country, when the ground is heavily covered with snow, the grouse are reported sometimes to dive into the light snow-drifts to spend the night, protected from the cold of the upper air by the blanket of snow above them. In winter the Ruffed Grouse is very likely to seek out the sunny side of thick woods and swamps, and in the middle of the day to sit there, preening itself and enjoying -the grate- . f^!ts ful warmth. In spring and summer — and even in winter — I have found fresh places where the grouse had dug out dusting-places in the soil, precisely as domestic chickens do in warm weather. The habits of the Ruffed Grouse vary with the locality in which it is found and the conditions of its life. In wild regions, where man is seldom seen, where the roar of firearms is not heard, and its only enemy is lynx or fox or hawk or owl, it is the most trusting of birds. If the traveler comes immediately upon it, it is likely to fly up on the low branch of a tree, and examine him with interest and curiosity. If, by chance, he should fire three or four pistol-shots at it without hitting it, it does nothing more than turn its head from side to side, as if curious to discover the cause of the unusual sound. In parts of the Rocky Moun- tains or of Canada, a grouse will sometimes sit on a limb until a noose, tied to the end of a pole, is slipped over its head, 'or a stick thrown by a vigorous hand knocks it from its perch, or an Indian boy shoots it with a blunt arrow. In the East, where it is constantly pursued, the bird hast lost its sim- plicity and trustfulness. It has learned the lesson of self-protection from dog and gun. It flies at the i e i i • i /v • i i i i in Caution sound of the human voice a long way off ; is bold and fearless, or cautious and evasive, as the occasion demands ; practises a great variety of stratagems, and is abundantly able to cope with most gunners. While birds without experience are obviously less able to pro- tect themselves, the old stagers who have survived one or two shooting seasons possess a wisdom which often seems fairly uncanny. Sportsmen generally believe that, from the middle of October until sharp frosts begin to chill the waters of streams and swamps, the Ruffed Grouse, like their distant cousins, the quails, wander about more or less, and are not to be found in their usual haunts. This is called the "running season" or "crazy season." Certain it is, that at this time of the year there is more or less shifting from place to place by the grouse, who tend to desert their summer resorts and to move into places where, during the 252 Ruffed Grouse season of extreme cold, food and shelter will be better. Movements like this take place with many birds and mammals. We used to see such shif tings with buffalo, elk, deer, and antelope, and cer- Autumnal . . w , . tain other American grouse, and there seems no doubt that they take place in the case of the Ruffed Grouse and Bob-white. At all events, in the mild weather of the middle fall, Ruffed Grouse are often found in extraordinary and unexpected places, as outbuildings, the trees or lawns near houses in private places, and even in the middle of a mowing-lot. After the first cold weather, however, the birds are likely to choose a swamp or woods for winter quarters. A good dog for Ruffed Grouse is exceedingly hard to find. He should have a keen nose, great caution, and the more experience the better. The scent given forth by this bird so excites the ordinary dog that he loses all idea of caution, and runs about as if demented. In his noisy racing back and forth, he alarms the grouse, which thus has ample oppor- tunity to lay plans to foil its pursuers. The wise old "partridge dog" acts very differently. Naturally intelligent, he understands the difficulties of his task, and his experience in the ways of many grouse in other years causes him perfectly to comprehend the diffi- culties of the task required of him. He works close to the gun, and, at the faintest suggestion of the scent of a grouse, stops and waits for his master to come up. Then cautiously and in silence he works out the scent, and satisfies himself as to what the bird has done and probably now is doing; and then he tries to be a little more cunning than the bird. Sometimes such a dog, when he finds that a grouse is persistently running before him, will leave the trail, make a wide circle, and go around beyond the bird, coming back from the point toward which it was running, with the purpose of stopping it and making it He until the gunner comes up. The Ruffed Grouse is so persistently shot that in the East there are now few districts where good shooting can be had. In less thickly popu- lated districts — as parts of New England, New York. Decrease Michigan, and Wisconsin — this bird is still abundant. Even if the stock of grouse in southern New England and in southern New York has been brought down very low, extermina- tion as yet has hardly come wherever covers suited to the Ruffed Grouse remain. Classification and Distribution The Ruffed Grouse belongs to the Order Galliiia: and the Family Telraonida. Its scientific name is Bonasa uinbellus. The range of the species extends from the southern Alleghenies, Kansas, Colorado and northern California to Alaska, central Quebec and Nova Scotia. Four subspecies are distinguished : T. u. umbellus, of the eastern-middle United States ; T. u. togata, of eastern Canada, New England and northern New York ; T. u. umbelloides, the Gray Ruffed Grouse, of Alaska and Yukon ; and T, u. sabini, Sabine's Ruffed Grouse, of the Northern Pacific Coast. This and other Educational Leaflets are for rale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE EMPEROR GOOSE By EDWARD W. NELSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 64 Among all the wild geese which make their summer home in the far North — both in the Old and the New World — the Emperor Goose is one of the least known and most beautiful. Its snowy white head, dusky throat, satiny gray body, on which each feather is marked by a black crescent and white margin, and the brilliant orange feet, make a strik- ingly handsome combination of colors. When the males first arrive on their breeding-grounds in spring, the beauty of their plumage is remark- able, but much of its satiny luster goes with the advancing season. Although the breeding-range of the Emperor Goose covers parts of two continents, yet perhaps it is more restricted in its territory than any other species of northern goose. Its summer home lies along the coast on both sides of Bering Straits, but so far as we know the vast majority of them breed in Alaska, mainly on the islands of the lower part of the Yukon delta, and thence southward nearly to the mouth of the Kuskokwim River. Considerable numbers also breed on St. Lawrence Island, and on the coast of northeastern Asia, where they arrive as soon as the tundra is free from snow. Their main wintering place appears to be on the southern side of the Peninsula of Alaska and the Aleutian Islands. The Aleuts know them as "Beach Geese," owing to their persistent occu- pation of the seashore. Stray individuals wander down the American coast in winter even to northern California, and occasionally are driven by gales to Hawaii. When I was preparing to go to Alaska, some years ago, the Emperor Goose, Steller's and Fischer's Eiders, and the Aleutian Tern were names to conjure with, and the anticipation of studying these birds in their remote northern homes filled me with joy. In the North, my head- quarters were at St. Michael, on the coast of Bering Sea, about sixty miles north of the Yukon delta. Here Emperor Geese rarely occurred except stray parties — visitors to the marshy coast-plain in fall. I made a sledge-journey one winter through the Yukon delta and across the tundras southward to the Kuskokwim, and found the Eskimos in that area wearing "parkies," or outer gar- ments, made of the skins of Emperor Geese sewed to- gether, and learned that great numbers of these birds nested there each spring rarely above the upper limit of the tide in the sluggish streams of this low plain. All available- observations of the habits of this bird 254 The Emperor Goose show it to be a strictly salt-water, coastal species in both summer and winter. Its food is sought between tide-lines, either on oozy flats, as at the Yukon mouth, or along the rocky beaches of the wild Aleutian shores. One spring, during my residence at St. Michael, it became possible to fulfil my long-cherished desire to visit the breeding-grounds of these geese and of many other water-fowl in the Yukon delta, and I left St. Michael early in May with an Eskimo and a dog-sledge. The tundra was still clothed in winter white, except here and there a bare spot on the sunny side of a knoll, and the sea was covered with unbroken ice to the far horizon. The hoarse, crowing notes of the Willow Ptamigan were beginning to be heard on the tundra, and occa- pnng on t e sionai scouts from the coming army of White-fronted and Cackling Geese passed high overhead, spying out the land; yet the day I started the temperature was well below zero. At the border of the Yukon delta, Eskimos familiar with the country were employed to lead us to the desired nesting-ground of the Emperor Goose. Nearly half a day's journey among the maze of ice-covered channels of the delta brought us to a low, flat island, where our guide as- sured me many "Nachau-thluk" would soon arrive, to rear their young. It was a bare, desolate spot, "with only a few scattered alders on the upper side of the islands, and an unbroken view out over the frozen sea to the west. A tent was put up on a slight rise and, after a stock of drift-wood had been gathered, the guides took the sledge and left me with my Eskimo companion to await the arrival of the birds. Later, when the ice went out, they returned for me with kyaks. A few White-fronted and Cackling Geese gave noisy evidence of their presence, but it was not until May 22 that the Eskimo brought in the first Emperor Goose — a male in beautiful spring plumage. After this, small flocks came in rapidly until they were plentiful all about us. They arrived quickly, skimming along near the ground, quite unlike the other geese, which appeared high overhead with wild outbursts of clanging cries, answered by those already on the ground. The river-channels and the sea were still covered with ice, and the tundra half covered with snow. At first, the Emperor Geese were difficult to approach, but as their numbers increased they became less shy. When on the wing, they were easily distinguished from the other geese, even at Coming of the considerable distances, by their proportionately shorter necks and heavier bodies, as well as by their short, rapid wing-strokes, resembling those of the Black Brant. Like the latter, they usually flew near the ground, rarely more than thirty yards high, and commonly so close to the ground that their wing-tips almost touched the surface on the down stroke. While flying from place to place, they give at short intervals a harsh, strident call of two syllables, like kla-ha. kla-ha, kla-ha, entirely different from the note of any other goose I have ever heard. A group of them on a sand-bar or mud-flat often utter lower, more cackling notes, in a conversational tone, which may he raised to The Emperor Goose 255 welcome new arrivals. They are much less noisy than either the White- fronted or Cackling Geese, which often make the tundra resound with their excited cries. Occasionally I could cause a passing flock to leave its course and swing in close to my place of concealment by imitating their flight-notes. » Almost at once after their arrival on the islands, the Emperor Geese appeared to be mated, the males walking around the females, swinging their heads and uttering low love- Mating notes ; and incoming flocks quickly disintegrated into pairs which moved about together, though often congregating with many others on flats and sand-bars. The male was entremely jealous and pugnacious, however, and immediately resented the slightest approach of another toward his choice ; and this spirit was shown equally when an individual of another species chanced to come near. When a pair was feeding, the male moved restlessly about, constantly on the alert, and at the first alarm the pair drew near one another, and just before taking wing uttered a deep, ringing u-lnyh, u-lugh; these, like the flight-notes, having a peculiar deep tone impossible to describe. At low tide, as soon as the shore ice disappeared, the broad 'mud- flats along shore were thronged with them in pairs and in groups. They were industriously dabbling in the mud for food until satisfied, and then congregated on bars, where they sat dozing in the sun or lazily arranging their feathers. By lying flat on the ground and creeping cautiously forward, I repeatedly approached within thirty or forty yards of parties near shore without their showing^ any uneasiness. Early in June, they began depositing eggs on the flat, marshy islands bordering the sea. The nests were most numerous a short distance back from the muddy feeding-grounds, but stray pairs were found nesting here and there farther inland. One must have lain with neck outstretched on the ground, as I afterward found was their custom when approached, for the Eskimo and I passed within a few feet of each side of her; but, in scanning the ground for nesting birds, the general similarity in tint of the bird and the obvious stick of driftwood beside her had completely misled our sweeping glances. The same ruse misled us several times ; but on each occasion the parent betrayed her presence by a startled outcry and hasty departure soon after we had passed her and our backs were presented. They usually flew to a considerable distance, and showed little anxiety over our visit to the nests. When first laid, the five to eight Breeding t-ggs are pure white, but they soon become soiled. When the complement of eggs to be laid approaches completion, the parent lines the depression in the ground with a soft, warm bed of fine grass, leaves, and feathers from her own breast. The males were rarely seen near the nests, but usually gathered about the feeding-grounds with others of their kind, where they were joined now and then by their mates. 256 The Emperor Goose The young are hatched the last of June or early in July, and are led about the tundras by both parents until August, when the old birds moult their quill-feathers and with the still unfledged young become extremely helpless. At this time, myriads of other geese are in the same condition, and the Eskimos made a practice of setting up long lines of strong fish-nets on the tundras to form pound-traps, or enclosures with wide wings leading to them, into which thousands were driven and killed for food. The slaughter in this way was very great, for the young were killed at the same time. Fortunately, in 1909, President Roosevelt made a bird-reservation covering the delta of the Yukon and the tundra to the southward, which includes the main breeding-ground of the Emperor Goose,, and thus took a long step toward perpetuating this fine bird. Classification and Distribution The Emperor Goose belongs to the Order Anseres, the Family Anatidae, and the Genus Philacte. Its scientific name is Philacte canagica. Its habitat is both shores of Bering Sea and adjacent Arctic coasts and islands, and its winter range is southward on the American coast to northern California. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Aububon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists ghrefl on request. Association of THE CRESTED AUKLET By CHARLES HASKINS TOWNSEND THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 65 This is a bird of the far North, frequenting the coasts and islands of Bering Sea and the North Pacific Ocean. We first got acquainted with the Crested Auklets at the Pribilof Islands, where they abound, and afterward saw them in Bering Strait, and above the Arctic Circle at Kotzebue Sound. Later on, in the fishery surveys by the steamship Albatross, we saw them from Kadiak Island and the Alaska Peninsula through the whole Aleutian Archipelago, and beyond to the Commander Islands off Kamtschatka. The bird Habitat is also found along the Kuril Islands, down as far as Japan on the western side of the Pacific. Rich as were our experiences with auklets in many of these places, they did not prepare us for what we were to see in the Shumagin Islands, south of the Alask^ Peninsula. On the evening of August i, the Albatross came to anchor in Yukon Harbor, at Big Koniushi Island of the Shumagin group. While the ship was working her way into this wild and uninhabited bay, everyone noticed the increasing numbers of auklets. The farther in we went the more numerous they became, until the Captain called me to the bridge to tell him what I could about them. The birds were nearly all of the crested species, and were present in myriads. The surface of the water was covered with them, and the air was filled with them. Large, compact flocks launched themselves into the air from the lofty cliffs, and careered toward the vessel with great speed and whirring of wings. The Crested Auklets were here more numerous than were the "Choochkies" (Least Auklets) at St. George, in the Pribilofs, celebrated as the center of abundance for that species. Twilight did not come until after nine o'clock, and during the long evening the birds were amazingly active. Flocks of them continued to come in rapid succession from the Amazing ,.„ . , 11- 1-1 j Numbers cliffs, many passing close to the ship at high speed and swinging about the harbor. After the anchor was dropped near the cliffs, a loud blast of the whistle made the auklets still more abundant. The bird-legions swept from the cliffs until the misty air and the water about the ship was alive with them. It was a memorable ornithological display, and when darkness came the birds were still moving actively. These birds appeared to be nesting chiefly in crevices in the cliffs, although they could be heard under the boulders near the beaches. We did not stay long at Yukon Harbor, and I have always wanted to revisit the place and get better acquainted with the metropolis of the auklets. At the Pribilofs, we found the birds apparently more abundant under 258 The Crested Auklet boulders near the beaches than in high cliffs. In seeking the nests of the Crested Auklets, and in fact the nests of any of the auklets, one needs a tool not often used by the bird student — a crowbar. To discover the nesting-places is easy. One has but to walk along the great ridges of volcanic stones thrown up by the sea. The stones are rounded and sea-worn pebbles, but they are gigantic pebbles and can- not be readily removed. The auklets go far down among them, perhaps three or four feet, and can be heard chattering there during any part of the nesting season. The natives attempted to show us the nests. They lifted or rolled the heavy rounded stones for half an hour, until there Dwelling among wag a drde Qf them around ug j fc hi h d fift Boulders . . feet wide. Ihey worked in the central depression, carrying or rolling stones until the task became hopeless, and still the auklets were chattering underneath the stones all about. Edward \Y. r A FAVORITE NESTING-PLACE OF AUKLETS, PRIBILOF ISLANDS, ALASKA Photographed by Dr. C. H. Townsend Nelson writes that on the northern islands of Bering Sea, St. Matthew. St. Lawrence, and the Diomedes, the eggs are sometimes deposited in exposed places, with little attempt at concealment. A set consists of a single egg, white, with sometimes a few dark blotches, and measuring on the average 2.10 by 1.40 inches. We found that a considerable part of the food of this and other kinds of auklets consisted of amphipod crustaceans, or beach-fleas, as they are called, when found under bits of seaweed along shore. These small CRESTED AUKLET Order — PYGOPODBS Family— ALCIDJE Genus— AETHIA Species— CRISTATBLLA National Association of Audubon Societies The Crested Auklet 259 crustaceans, less than a quarter of an inch in length, are amazingly abundant in Alaskan waters and, as a never-failing food-supply, account for the surprising abundance of auklets of all kinds. The native Aleuts eat auklets, just as they do most other kinds of sea-birds, and capture them with nets that are like a large dip-net with a long handle. The native hunter conceals himself at some point near the beach or bluffs over which the birds are accustomed to fly close. When a flock approaches, the net is swung upward, and a skilful native has little difficulty in catching two or three birds out of each flock that passes. The Aleut people are true children of Nature, and the greater part of their food consists of the fishes, seals, and sea-birds found along their shores. The misty and often stormy coasts would be desolate indeed without the lively presence of auklets; and we cannot help wishing that they abounded in more southern latitudes, where their charming ways could be better known. Some of nature's finest exhibitions of bird-life, however, are arranged without reference to civilized spectators. The Crested Auklets arrive at the Pribilofs in May, and remain until the winter ice begins to invest the islands, when they go farther south. They are noisy in the breeding season when about their nests, but are rather silent at other times. \Yhile they take alarm and leave the cliffs when closely approached, they have more confidence when on the water, and do not readily dive or take flight except to make way for the boat. About islands where they are not especially abundant they may yet be as thick as bees at some particular cliff, long rows of them lined up on the ledges, while others are coming and going. Sometimes we saw them far off shore in flocks hundreds of yards in extent. They are a plump, well-fed race, and appear to have plenty of time for play, both in the air and on the water. The Crested Auklet is distinguished by its much larger size from its nearest relatives, the Whiskered and Least Auklets, and by the differently shaped bill and the presence of a recurved crest from the Paroquet Auklet. More- over, the underparts .are entirely dark in the Crested Auklet, but largely white in the three allied species. Males and females are alike in plumage, which is sooty black above, and brownish beneath ; but this obscure coloring is relieved by the lively crest, the bright red of the beak, and the white, plume-like feathers which extend downward and backward from the eye. The white iris also contributes to the alert appearance of the bird's head. The feet are bluish, with dark webs. That part of the red beak around the corner of the mouth is soft and flexible. The forward-curved crest of this auklet, resembling that of the Cali- fornia Quail, suggests the name "Sea-quail," by which it is known to English-speaking persons. The native name "Kanooska" is of Russian origin, and means Little Captain. 260 The Crested Auklet In length individual birds vary from eight and one-half to nine inches. The plumage in winter is the same as in summer, but the bill is markedly different. The Crested Auklet not only moults its feathers like other birds, but sheds the red, horny plates about the base of its beak after the breeding season. The very young bird, whose appearance has not long been known, is a ball of smoky down, in no way resembling its Seasonal parents. In the immature bird the frontal crest and Changes ,...,, . , white feathers beneath the eye are wanting, or but slightly developed, while the bill is much smaller and dusky brownish. At the Pribilofs, it is no uncommon sight to see fur-seals, sea-lions, and many kind of sea-birds, including Crested Auklets, in great abund- ance within a radius of fifty yards. We need not concern ourselves, I think, about the preservation of these auklets. They dwell among the high cliffs and boulder-strewn beaches of a thousand uninhabited islands, and know how to stow away their eggs so safely that neither natives nor bdue foxes can get them easily. Classification and Distribution The Crested Auklet belongs to the Order Pygopodes, Family Alcidcp, and Genus ALthia. Its scientific name is JELthia cristatclla. It inhabits, all the year round, the coasts and islands of Bering Sea, moving southward in winter to the Aleutian Islands and Japan. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National A Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. issociation of THE GREEN HERON By T. GILBERT PEARSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 66 The Green Heron is the smallest North American member of that subfamily of birds sometimes called True Herons. The expanse of wings, from tip to tip, of one of ordinary size, is two feet; when the bird stretches its neck to its greatest length the distance from the end of its tail to the point of its bill is seventeen inches/ Its legs, like those of all herons, are sufficiently long to enable it to wade in shallow water. These are destitute of feathers along the greater part of their length, a characteristic common to all birds that are in the habit of wading much in the water. The bill is long, very sharp at the end, and well adapted to seizing slippery prey. Many species of herons inhabit chiefly extensive marshes, the shores of lakes and large streams, or such vast swamps as exist in the South. The Green Heron, however, does not confine its travels or stopping- places to such localities ; wherever ponds, creeks, or even smaller streams occur, especially if these be in open country, there you are likely to find this bird. Because of this general distribution, more persons, probably, have a bowing acquaintance with the Green Heron than with any other member of the family. It is in part nocturnal in its habits, and, in many regions of the United States, it is not uncommon to hear its guttural note when, on still summer nights, it wings its way across the country from one feed- ing-ground to another. If you chance to be working your way along a creek-bank, you may startle the bird from its roost in the willows, or from a feeding-place among the rushes or tall grass growing in shallow water. On such occasions it will fly away with a startled cry, sometimes passing entirely out of sight; but, if not unduly alarmed, it will often alight on a tree or snag near by, and, with jerking tail and raised crest, survey the intruder with ill-concealed suspicion and disapproval. The writer well recalls the first Green Heron's nest he ever saw. This was down in the pine-barren ^^^f8' '" the e i T~>I • i rr>i i • sink-hole region of central Honda. The country there is largely underlaid with soft limestone, through which innumerable under- ground streams gurgle along their subterranean courses. * Here and there the rock becomes disintegrated and washed away to such an extent that the earth above gives way and falls into the cavern beneath. Thus are formed the many "natural wells" and "sink- holes" that one finds scattered about the country. In a bush growing from the side of the rock, and hanging over the water in one of these 262 The Green Heron sink-holes, a pair of Green Herons, long years ago, built the loose plat- form of twigs which served them as a nest. Day after day, when I crept cautiously to the brink and looked down, I could see one of them sitting on the green eggs forty feet beneath me. The still water of the sink below the nest was never ruffled by a passing breeze, and from its depths frogs and small turtles climbed to projecting bits of rock, and added touches of life to the weird scene. A mile away, in a small water-oak growing in an abandoned field, two of us found another nest the succeeding year ; possibly it was built by some of the young hatched in the deep shadows of the sink. There was no way to approach this nest without the birds discovering the intru- der long before the tree was reached. Twice we Intruders visited the spot, and each time the parent-bird that was at home departed hastily. It is not good to disturb birds too frequently when they have the care of their eggs or young, so we did not go near the tree again until the young had flown. Although the nest was so frail that one could see the eggs through the twigs from the ground below, it must have been securely built, for much of it was still in position the next spring when we again went to the old field, hoping that the Green Herons might still be using the tree as a nesting- place. In the edge of the lake, near by, grew thickly clustered many tall buttonwood bushes, in which, each April, were built the nests of a colony of Boat-tailed Crackles — those large, shiny blackbirds common in the far South. One spring a pair of Green Herons made their nest here and, despite the great noise and clatter which always prevails in a black- bird colony, they appeared to find the situation quite to their liking, for later the young were seen with their parents along the shore. If you should chance some summer to visit the farm of Alden H. Hadley, in Indiana, he would probably take you out to his large apple orchard and show you six or eight nests of the Green Herons. For many years this little colony has gathered there every season when the birds return to the North after the snows have gone. Near by flows a small stream, along which the birds gather their food, chiefly by night. Up and down the stream, across fields and through the woods, the birds fol- low its winding course, collecting the minnows, frogs, grasshoppers, and various water-insects and crustaceans which they delight to eat. Perhaps a more striking example of this bird's tendency to rear its young near the abode of man is shown by the fact that for several years in Pelham Bay Park, within the limits of Greater New York City, a little colony of four or five pairs have selected an old apple-orchard in which to make their nests and hatch their young. Thus we may see that the Green Heron has a wide range of suitable places to choose from for nest-building. Often the nest is far from any pond or lake, and frequently it is found singly, with no other heron's nest near. Yet this is by no means always the case. Go to the great GREEN HERON Order— HBRODIOMBS Family— ARDKID* Genus— BUTORIDES Species— VIRKSCBNS National Association of Audubon Societies The Green Heron 263 colonies of nesting herons and ibises in the southern swamps, and among the hundreds or often thousands of birds collected there you will find now and then a nest of the modest little Green Heron, occupying some incon- spicuous spot in one of the willow-trees or cypresses. Every bird in the world, as probably every other wild creature, has its natural enemies. Something is ever on the alert to prey upon it. Every sparrow, wren, warbler, thrush, hawk, and even the resourceful and powerful eagle, must keep a sharp lookout that some foe does not catch it or destroy its eggs and Vigilance young. The Green Heron is no exception to this rule. Eoxes, also minks and weasels, possibly catch this bird now and then. The nesting-season, however, must be the period of greatest anxiety for this bird and for all others. Although the cradle for the eggs is always well hidden in the rushes or among the foliage of bushes and trees, it is, nevertheless, often discovered by sharp-eyed wild hunters when out in search of good things to eat. Crows, which know so well how to look out for their own interests, every year steal Green Herons' eggs from the nests. The Fish Crow, which is slightly smaller than the Crow that is commonly seen, and is particularly numerous along the seacoast, and also haunts the neighborhood of large inland ponds, lakes and rivers, is a wonderfully successful egg-hunter. When one of these robbers goes out for an omelet, it flies across the country or slips through the trees in a most crafty and silent manner. Finding a Heron's nest, it will cunningly withdraw, and return at a time when the parent-bird is temporarily away, taking a rest or looking for food. Then comes the Crow. With a strong, plunging stroke it will drive its bill into an egg, and fly off with it without a sound. Often it will alight on the limb of some tree near by and proceed at Crows once to enjoy its repast, but sometimes will fly a long distance with its booty before stopping to devour it in seclusion. Once I saw a plucky Kingbird attack a Crow which was carrying on its bill a Green Heron's egg. The fierce little black fighter boldly attacked the marauder, which was many times its size, and drove it for fully a quarter of a mile. The Crow flew with all its power in its efforts to get away from its tormentor. The Kingbird followed fast, and fre- quently ranging above it would dart down at the head and back of the Crow. In desperation, the egg-hunter finally dropped its load, and at length escaped to the friendly shelter of a thick pine tree. The egg chanced to fall into a pool of water, and I picked it up unbroken. In one side was a hole about the size of the end of a man's finger. This had been made by the bill of the feathered robber. When the Green Heron builds its nest in bushes growing over or near the surface of a pond or lake there is always danger from water-moccasins, which are very fond of birds' eggs. It is a well-understood fact that many more of these interesting birds would be seen if they were not so constantly persecuted by their 264 The Green Heron human neighbors. Green Herons sometimes come to ponds where fish are being propagated, and cause the owners annoyance by eating many of the young that have been hatched and are being raised with so much care. This very naturally causes the fish-breeder to become worried, and sometimes he gets his gun and shoots the birds. From the data which have been carefully gathered we now believe that Green Herons, as a whole, do comparatively little damage, but that, on the other hand, they may render mankind a distinct service. Quite apart from seeking revenge from any real injury they may do about fish-ponds, many men shoot them whenever they get the opportunity for the mere pleasure of seeing whether they can hit them ; and thoughtless and ill-trained boys have been known to kill these trusting birds with little rifles, all of which is wrong. Another influence which has tended to decrease their Birds'-nesting numbers has been the craze among boys for collecting birds' eggs. They have taken a peculiar pleasure in this pursuit ; and so extensively has the practice been carried on that Green Herons, as well as other birds of certain regions, have been largely depleted in numbers. Collecting eggs should never be indulged in except by persons whose knowledge and real scientific purpose warrant the State authorities in granting them a license for the purpose. Even then, the collecting should not be carried on to an extent which will be appreciably injurious to the well-being of the birds. In most of the States in the Union it is now against the law to kill Green Herons except under permits granted by the State authorities, and all right-minded persons should unite in giving these statutes their most hearty support. Classification and Distribution The Green Heron is classified as belonging to the Order Herodiones, the Suborder Herodii, Family Ardeida-, and the Subfamily Ardeince. It is found in suitable localities from Oregon and Ontario southward to the West Indies and Venezuela. Besides the eastern form, to which this leaflet especially refers, two geographical races or subspecies are recognized by ornithologists : viz., Frazar's Green Heron (B. v. frasari), a slightly larger, darker form in Lower California, and Anthony's Green Heron (B. v. anthonyi), a pale desert-race in northern Cali- fornia and southward through arid Mexico. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE ALASKA LONGSPUR By EDWARD W. NELSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 67 The Alaska Longspur is the western variety of the Lapland Longspur, distinguished from the normal eastern longspurs by the comparative pale- ness of its colors. The Lapland Longspur is a bunting closely related to the' Snowflake, and one of a genus remarkable, as its name indicates, for the great length of the claw of the hind toe, which is as long as the toe itself. The home of the species is in high northern latitudes, extend- ing around the whole circle of the polar sea, these buntings frequenting in summer the most northerly coasts and islands of Siberia and Europe, as well as Iceland, Green- ° land, and the shores and islands of Arctic America. West of the Mackenzie River the Alaskan, or pale, race of this long- spur is extremely abundant and familiar in summer all over the tundra, or treeless coast-barren, and on islands in Bering Sea ; and it breeds throughout the coastal region from Kadiak Island to the Arctic Ocean. The males reach Dawson, on the upper Yukon, from the south, be- tween the 5th and i8th of April, in nearly perfect breeding-plumage. About the end of April they arrive at St. Michael, on the coast of Bering Sea, and are known to reach southern Greenland about the same time. Murdock tells us that they are abundant in summer at Point Barrow, where they arrive about May 20. The first eggs are laid there by the beginning of June, and the birds begin to migrate southward at the end of August or early in September. On the western Aleutian Islands, Dall found them to be abundant summer residents, and discovered a nest with four much-incubated eggs on June 18. They leave these islands in winter ; and I may add that I do not know of a winter record from any part of Alaska. During the summer of 1881, I found them nesting on St. Lawrence Island, in Bering Sea, and on both sides of Bering Strait, but saw no trace of them on either Wrangel or Herald islands. They are well known and abundant on the Fur Seal Islands, where they are the most beautiful songsters among the limited number of Al land-birds summering there. They winter through- out north-central Europe and middle Asia eastward of Japan, and in the northern United States, mainly from the Great Lakes to Oregon and Washington, but sometimes as far south as Texas. Early in May, the tundra on the Alaskan coast of Bering Sea is >till mostly covered with snow, except in grassy spots on southern exposures and in other favorably situated places. Here the first male longspurs 265 266 The Alaska Longspur suddenly appear in all the gaiety of their summer dress. At this season, the males are beautiful, the head and breast being jet-black with white or buffy stripes behind the eyes, the back of the neck bright rufous, and the back streaked with black and brownish. These birds appear not to undergo a spring molt, but to attain the breeding-dress by the wearing away of the light edgings of feathers characteristic of the winter plumage ; at the same time the remaining parts of the feathers appear to become brighter and richer, as though suffused with added y coloring matter. There is considerable individual variation in color, due to a greater or less intensity rather than to any change in pattern. The females, as usual among birds, are more obscurely marked, and reach the breeding-ground a little later than the males. They arrive on the coast of Norton Sound in flocks and spread rapidly over their breed- ing-ground. Despite the bleak surroundings and chilling winds, the longspurs soon become abundant, and by the middle of May are in full song. As if con- scious of their handsome appearance, the males choose to sit on the tops of projecting tussocks, rocks, or small knolls, the only breaks in the monotonous surface, where their bright colors render them conspicuous. The Lapland Longspur is one of the few birds, which, like the Sky- lark and the Bobolink, is so rilled with the ecstasy of life in spring that it must mount into the air to pour forth its joy in exquisite song. The males are scattered here and there over the tundra on their chosen projecting points, and at frequent intervals mount slowly on Fr"h" tremulous wings ten or fifteen yards into the air. There they pause a moment and then, with wings up-pointed, forming V-shaped figures, they float gently back to their perches, uttering, as they sink, their liquid notes, which fall in tinkling succession on the ear. It is an exquisite, slightly jingling melody, with much less power than, but resembling the song of the Bobolink. It has more melody than the song of that bird, and is so filled with the joyous charm of springtime that no one can hear it unmoved. The period of song ends soon after the first of June, when brooding has begun. By the end of May each songster has found himself a mate, and to- gether they build a snug home, placed on the ground, and as cleverly hidden as circumstances permit. The nests are usually to be found in the driest parts of the tundra, in a hummock, a tuft of grass, or perhaps in a little bunch of dwarf willow ; and near St. Michael, in the proper sea- son, one cannot search "about for half an hour without discovering several. As one approaches a nest the female usually flutters off at one's feet, and is immediately joined by the male. Both hover about or fly restlessly from tussock to tussock, uttering protests at the intruder as long as he remains in the vicinity. Whenever the eggs are nearly ready to hatch, the female shows the greatest solicitude, and when the young appear, her anxiety is still The Alaska Longspur 267 more pronounced. In one instance, the female was frightened from her eggs just as they were about to hatch, and ran along the ground a few yards, uttering a plaintive chee-chee-chee in a fine, vibrating, metallic tone, dragging her outspread wings and tail on the ground, and fluttering as if in mortal agony. The nests vary in size, but average about two and three-fourths inches in depth by five inches across the top on the outside, and the central cavity is about two inches deep and three inches across the top. The walls are sometimes thick and strong, composed of an abundance of material, but may be a mere cup-shaped shell, barely sufficient to hold the eggs. In most cases they are composed of rather coarse grass, sometimes with moss interwoven, forming a thick layer that frequently is as thoroughly water-soaked as a wet sponge. In a damp situation much more material is used than on a dryer spot ; but the interior in- variably contains fine, soft, yellow blades of last year's Situation grasses, sometimes mixed with feathers of ptarmigans and other wild birds. One that I examined had a thick lining of 'feathers and dogs' hair. The eggs number from four to seven, and are heavily covered with blotches and zigzag lines of various shades of brown, and the ground- color, when visible, is greenish clay-color. The young are out on the wing sometimes as early as the first of July. but more usually about the tenth of this month, after which they unite in small bands, and are seen about the trading-posts and native villages, where they are heedless of the presence of people, and are nearly as familiar as the English Sparrows in our cities. They remain in great abundance until the last of August or first of September, when they begin their straggling departure. By the first of October, the last one has passed away toward the south, and none are seen until returning spring brings them north again. They usually begin to move southward before they have fully molted, so that only the comparatively few individuals that have completed the molt in September are found in perfect winter dress on their northern breeding-grounds. The serial changes of plumage as summer advances are worthy of note. By the first of July, as a rule, the partly fledged birds have the feathers of the crown, back, rump, breast, and throat marked with black or very dark-brown shaft-lines, which vary from one-third to one-half the width of the feather. The feathers of the crown and back are edged with a dingy, yellowish buff ; those on the nape, with grayish or dull ashy. The edges of the breast-feathers are Autumn soiled yellowish, with a wash of the same on the feathers of the entire undersurface. There are two indistinct white wing-bars. This state of plumage is hardly attained before it begins to give place to the fall-and-winter dress with which we are familiar, when the birds come trooping down to the United States from the North at the beginning of winter. Beginning- on the lower and caudal parts, 268 The Alaska Longspur the feathers are gradually molted and replaced, the change extending slowly toward the bill. In winter and early spring Alaska Longspurs are very common in the open country along the Canadian boundary and throughout North Dakota and Montana, and thence west to Oregon and Washington. A vivid idea of the vast number of these birds in the aggregate is given by Dr. T. S. Roberts, in The Auk for 1907, in his account of the enormous number which perished during a storm in northwestern Iowa and southwestern Minnesota on the nights of March 13 and 14, 1904. In two square miles of icy surface on two small lakes, Dr. Roberts thinks nearly a million birds lay dead, and he estimates that in the vicinity prob- Pens ing a^jy a mji]jon ancj a half birds perished that night. These birds had been caught in a storm of wet snow while migrating and, as the total area over which their bodies lay scat- tered exceeded 1,500 square miles, it is evident that the number killed must have been many millions. Such catastronhies must occasionally overtake birds like these, which live on open shelterless plains and exist so closely on the borders of winter. The wide extent of their breeding and wintering grounds, however, insures them against any serious danger to the species from local causes, no matter how destructive these may be. Classification and Distribution The Alaska Longspur belongs to the Order Passcrcs, Family Fringillida and Genus Calcarius. Its scientific name is Calcarius lapponicus alascensis. It ranges and breeds throughout Northwestern America from the Mackenzie River westward to the islands in Bering Sea, and winters among the foothills of the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains from Oregon to southern Colorado. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE BROWN THRASHER By T. GILBERT PEARSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 68 Among the twelve hundred and more species and varieties of wild birds found in North America, a certain number are so well known that few persons have not made their acquaintance either by actual introduc- tion or by hearsay. The Robin, the Crow, the Jay, and the Eagle, for example, are household words, often familiar to children long before the little folk are large enough to go afield and observe the birds for them- selves. The writers of verse have done much to make some of our feathered friends known to us. In fact, poets have ^-^ jj;r(js depicted the charms of some birds in such living, and melodious verse that it is doubtful whether the fame the Poets of these birds would ever fade from the memory of mankind, even should the species thus glorified pass for all time from our view. Many of us, when children, read certain pleasant lines upon the Brown Thrasher. The schoolbook called it "Brown Thrush," and per- haps the name does quite as well. The poem to which I refer is truly a beautiful one, and should be memorized by every child who does not already know it, especially as it speaks the creed of the Audubon Society* There's a merry Brown Thrush sitting up in the tree; He's singing to me! he's singing to me! And what does he say, little girl, little boy, "Oh, the world's running over with joy ! Don't you hear? don't you see? Hush ! look in my tree ! For I am as happy as happy can be." And the Brown Thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see? And five eggs hid by me in the juniper-tree? Don't meddle, don't touch, little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy. Now I'm glad! now I'm free! And I always shall be, If you never bring sorrow to me." The Brown Thrasher well deserves the fame which it has achieved as a vocalist, and fortunate is the man whose garden a pair of these birds choose for their abode. Its song is the most varied contribution to the bird-chorus heard at daybreak in the Northern States ; it is the Mocking- bird of the North — so much, indeed, does its song suggest the musical performances of that masterly vocalist that early American ornitholo- gists often called it the "Ferruginous Mockingbird." The Thrasher, while singing, usually occupies the topmost bough of some bush or tree, and, although it sings mostly in the morning, occa- sionally it may be heard at any hour of the day. Its voice is loud, clear, 270 The Brown Thrasher and far-reaching, but hardly possesses the sweetness of tone so char- acteristic of the Wood Thrush and the Veery. The bird's fame is based rather on the wide variety and clearness of the notes s a"e it produces, aided perhaps by the fact that it sings much of the time within sight and hearing of our garden-walks and house-windows. Upon arriving in the spring from his winter home in the Southern States, this bird usually announces his presence by a voluble song, with which he floods the morning air from his perch on a neighboring tree. The worry and responsibility of domestic life which shortly come upon him, in common with many other singing birds, do not, to any notable extent, lessen the force or frequency of his music. The nest of the Brown Thrasher is, for the size of the bird, a rather bulky structure. It is composed mainly of dead twigs, and has a lining of rootlets. This nest is usually placed in a bush or thick cluster of vines, where it is well concealed from the eye of anyone passing. I recall finding a nest in the main fork of an old pear-tree about three feet from the ground, and another situated on a small stump, and well screened from view by the sprouts which had grown up above it. Occasionally the nest is even placed on the ground, always well The Nest hidden by vegetation ; and observers have recorded that they have seen ground-built nests made in situa- tions so wet that the dampness, working up through the nesting-material, caused the eggs to addle. The parent-birds, failing to recognize the misfortune which had come to their treasures in some such instances, continued to sit on them for several weeks. The eggs, which are usually four in number, are thickly and uni- formly covered with fine dots of cinnamon or rufous brown. When one approaches the nest of the Crow, if one of the birds is at home, it will usually leave, and will frequently not again be observed until the intruder has left the neighborhood, and some other birds have this habit of deserting their nest on the approach of real or imaginary danger. This, however, is not the case with the Brown Thrasher. When an enemy approaches both birds instantly become alert, or if one chances to be away the scolding notes of the one on guard soon recall the absent companion. Together they fly in and out of the bushes, constantly voic- ing their alarm and disapproval, and often darting viciously at the crea- ture which has trespassed upon their privacy. They Habits become especially excited and annoyed upon the ap- pearance of that most dreaded of all birds' enemies — the house-cat ; and their alarm is not without reason, for seldom is a Thrasher's nest built in such a situation as to be safe from the agile activities of this marauder. One of the saddest sights in the bird-world is to witness the de- jected movements, and hear the piteously mournful notes, of a pair of Brown Thrashers whose nest has been despoiled by Grimalkin. BROWN THRASHER Order— PASSERES Family -Mi MID* Genus— TOXOSTOMA Species— RUFUM National Association of Audubon Socletln* The Brown Thrasher 271 Some years ago a pair of these birds constructed their home in a thorn-bush growing on the lawn of a residence where the writer chanced to be visiting. The members of the household became much interested in watching the fortunes of this bird-family, and es- pecially were we impressed with the frequency with which the parents fed their young. At this work they were busy all day long. The birds seemed to gather food for the little ones entirely from the lawn of the adjacent residence and from the two gardens in the rear, rarely going off this territory. In approaching the nest they would advance flying low over the grass until within about ten feet of the thorn-bush. Alighting on the ground, they would look around for a moment, to see if any danger was near, and then hop rapidly along to the lower branches, which came down to the ground; then from limb to limb they would jump, ascending a sort of irregular stairway to the nest, when we could hear the eager clamor of the four little ones as they received their nourishment. We soon noticed that one bird always went up the right-hand side of the bush, and the other invariably hopped up through the limbs on the left side. I became curious to know just how often they brought food, and one morning, with notebook in hand, sat for an hour on the veranda watch- ing the movements of our little brown neighbors. Through my field- glass I could see that they brought one, and at times apparently two or three, insects or their larvae in each trip. Every time a bird came to the nest I made a mark with my pencil. In the middle of the day I made the same observations for an hour, and repeated the records in the evening. The bird which went up the right-hand side of the bush made a trip on an average of every two and a half minutes, and the bird which went up the left-hand side made a trip every ten minutes. The young were kept at home in the nest about two weeks. If the birds took only one insect a trip, it would mean that during this interval these Brown Thrashers fed to their young 5,180 soft-bodied worms and insects. This, of course, does not take into consideration what the old birds ate during this time ; nor what they consumed during the period of incubation ; nor all those delectable morsels which the male fed to the female during the blissful days of courtship. If we include all these, and also what the family of six ate after the young had left the nest and flown off into the bushes, it is most conservative to estimate that this pair of Brown Thrashers and their young were responsible, that summer, for the destruction of the lives of over fifty thousand insects, most of which were injurious to the vegetation of the region. Some birds are of so great value to men that, even if there were no laws on the statute-books to protect them, every man, woman, an characteristics and color are concerned. We have learned, of course, that he is related to the Mockingbird and Thrashers, but perhaps not so very closely after all. His drab plumage, black cap and tail, and rusty under tail-coverts form a combination of colors not found, at any rate, among other "mockers," nor, indeed, in any other North Ameri- can bird, while the deep blue eggs of the Catbird differ entirely from those of the Mockers and Thrashers, and recall those of the Thrushes, to which family, indeed, it would seem that the Catbird has some kinship. 278 The Catbird Through the Thrashers, on the other hand, he traces relationship to the Wrens, having the same short, rounded wing and long tail, and the tarsus composed of distinct plates and not welded together into a boot, as in the Thrushes. Not only is the Catbird's plumage distinctive, but it is not subject to variation. Wherever found, Catbirds — male, female, and young, winter or summer — are alike. Dr. Coues, I remember, in his classic account of the Catbird, refers to him as distinctly commonplace, and there seems to be something about the bird that deserves this epithet. He is so familiar to everyone, so associated with everyday scenes and occupations, that he seems almost a part of them, and occasions none of the enthusiasm Inquisitive and that the brilliant piumage of the Scarlet Tanager or the Confidential , , , TTT 11-11 A i clear notes of the Wood Thrush arouses. And yet, when we stop to consider him, there is something very dear to us in the homely presence and the sometimes harsh voice of the Catbird. The confidence that he seems to show toward mankind by living about the house, in dooryard, garden, or orchard-thicket, his apparent interest in everything that is going on, even if it border on inquisitiveness, and his song, low-pitched and erratic though it be, all endear him to us. Every old garden has somewhere about it a shady thicket of lilacs, mock-orange, or some similiar shrubbery in a niche by the back porch, perhaps, or behind the greenhouse, or over in the corner where the fences come together ; and it is with such a spot that the Catbird is most closely associated in my mind. His song comes bubbling in through the open window, and let us but step outside and stroll down the garden-path, and the Catbird is at once close at hand, full of curiosity and nervous anxiety, uttering at frequent intervals that harsh, irritating, complaining cry. When the house-cat selects some comfortable spot in the old garden for an afternoon nap, the Catbird is immediately at hand, and will mount guard by the hour with a continuous fire of harsh, monotonous, though utterly futile protests, so long as puss remains on the field. Perhaps, however, he may have good reason for his anxiety, for back in the heart of that shrubbery his nest is no doubt situated, lodged firmly among the branches, built of twigs, dead leaves and plant-stems, and neatly lined with fine rootlets, holding perhaps four deep blue eggs which his mate is patiently incu- bating. The number of eggs varies from three or five ; and about the middle of May we find the clutch complete and incubation begun ; and usually, I think, another brood is raised later on in June. As the visitor passes out of his domain, the Catbird is back again among the lilac-bushes and, casting all anxiety to the winds, he ruffles out his plumage, droops his wings, and there gurgles forth that peculiar medley of liquid notes and harsh tones that strike one as almost ridicu- lous. The notes follow one another so unexpectedly that the whole pose A Home in the Thicket CATBIRD Order— PASSES ES Family — MIMID* Genus— DUMBTBLLA Species — TAROLINBNSIS National Association of Audubon Societies The Catbird 279 of the bird, his earnestness and entire satisfaction, seem somehow out of keeping with the result. But there is much that is pleasing — much melody — in the Catbird's song if we but give it consideration. It is not a loud song ; not one that commands our attention, and not in a class with songs of Thrushes and Grosbeaks or the best Sparrow songs, but it is well suited to its surroundings, to the cool shade of deep shrubbery and the tangle of damp thickets, and it takes a prominent place in the wild- bird chorus. The Catbird is by no means restricted to the garden shrub- bery, but is equally at home down in the vegetable patch, among the grape-arbors, in the blackberry-briars bordering the orchard or down the lane that leads to the spring-house; and as you stroll along the old sunken road in the early evening i one or more Catbirds are constantly in attendance, darting along the rails of the decaying fence or perching for a moment on the top of one of the uprights, ever full of interest in your movements. Out in the swamp, too, bordered with blackberry-bushes and wild plums, and overgrown with alder, spice-wood and fox-grape, we find Catbirds. As we penetrate the shady interior, bending below the green canopy and springing from tussock to tussock, we meet with the familiar protesting cry, the same apparent inquisitiveness to know what we are up to ; and in among the dense tangle of grape-vine and greenbrier, we may find the nest as securely placed as in the garden shrubbery. Once, I remember, while exploring a swamp, I made a little squeaking noise with my lips placed against the back of the hand, such as is often em- ployed to attract birds, and in a moment I had a small mob of excited Catbirds all around me, more than I supposed could possibly be within hearing. These swampy thickets probably harbor more Catbirds than any other place, notwithstanding the fact that in my mind the bird is more intimately associated with the dooryard of the farmhouse. In- deed, the swampy thickets and bushy borders of streams were probably the original home of the Catbirds before the advent of man, and it is in a certain swamp that I usually hear them first, and here, too, at the height of the breeding season, that we get their song at its best. The Catbird retires southward in autumn, although occasionally as far north as New Jersey and southern Pennsylvania, or even New England, we come across an isolated Cat- Migration bird that is wintering north of his usual range in some sheltering woodland tangle of greenbrier, or among the dense growth of bayberry-bushes on the coast. Here he manages to subsist on such ber- ries as the autumnal migrants have passed by, or upon stray insects that are coaxed forth on mild days in winter by the warmth of the mid-day sun. At Philadelphia, the first Catbirds arrive in the spring between April 15 and 24, and they are generally distributed by the 29th. Iti the autumn, the last one has usually departed by the middle of October. There is ar certain amount of feeling against the Catbird in some parts of the country on account of the fruit and berries that it consumes. 280 The Catbird As a matter of fact, however, fruit does not constitute a very large pro- portion of the Catbird's yearly food. The reports of the Department of Agriculture show that 44 per cent, of its food consists of insects, and three-fourths of this are made up of ants, beetles, caterpillars, and grass- hoppers. Of the 56 per cent, of vegetable food, only one-third consists of strawberries, raspberries and blackberries, and many of these are the wild varieties. The other two-thirds are made up of berries of the dog- wood, wild cherry, sour gum, elder, greenbrier, spicewood, black alder, sumac, and poison ivy — plants of the shady swamps and fence-rows where the Catbird so frequently makes his home. We see, therefore, that the Catbird is of enormous value to the farmer as an insect-destroyer, while the charges against him as ThC Friend Der'S a fruit-thief dwindle in the light of scientific investiga- tion, and can be largely dismissed by a little care in pro- viding some of his favorite wild food. To quote Doctor Judd : "By killing the birds, their services as insect-destroyers would be lost forever, so the problem for us is to keep both th2 bird and the fruit. We need have no hesitancy in placing the Catbird fairly in the class of beneficial birds. When we see him searching about the ground in his favorite thicket, we know that he is seeking out the many harmful insects that lurk there, and we need not begrudge him an occasional berry from the garden; since, if he should become a nuisance, we«know how to-draw him away from mischief. Considering the amount of food that a farmer provides for his crops in the form of fertilizer and manure, it seems strange if a little food cannot be provided for the birds, without whose constant guardianship crops of all kinds would be utterly wiped out by the insect-hordes." Classification and Distribution The Catbird belongs to the Order Passeres, and the Family Mimida. Its scientific name is Dumetella carolinensis. It is found in summer from the southern Provinces of Canada southward to northeastern Oregon, northern Utah, eastern Texas and northern Florida ; and it winters from the Southern States southward to Cuba and Panama. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association o< Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE TUFTED TITMOUSE By FLORENCE MERRIAM BAILEY THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 71 Emerson's poem, "The Titmouse," deals with the hardy Black-capped Chickadee in the snow-clad northern woods, but the gray Tufted Tit- mouse, which frequents the vine-draped woods of the Middle and South- ern States, is much the same friendly, cheerful little bird. In winter, when few birds are to be heard, the loud cheery whistle of the "Tom-tit," as it is sometimes called, makes the leafless woods seem alive again. In spring, when the arbutus and the jessamine bloom in the South, the voices of the trio to which he belongs — Cardinal, Carolina Wren, and Titmouse — keep the woods ringing with their songs. When heard for the first time in their daybreak or late-afternoon chorus, it may well puzzle one to tell which songster Mingled is which. But, by remembering that the characteristic note of the gray Tom-tit is the two-syllabled pc-to, pe-to, or pe-ter,>pe-ter, in distinction from the three-syllabled ivhee-u-dle, ivhee-u-dle, or tea- ket-tlc, tca-kct-tle, of the brown Carolina Wrren ; and that they are both quite different from the smooth, long-drawn cue, tuc, cue, and the spirited whistles of the handsome red Cardinal, the principal songs of the three birds can soon be recognized. But the Tom-tit is by no means bound down to one stereotyped song, for, though seeming so practical and business-like as he hunts over the branches, he hides a great variety of feelings under his pretty Quaker dress. These are expressed, as they are with many birds, either by small notes or by eloquent tones and variations in the characteristic song. These emotional outbursts are really much more important in the life of birds than is the stereotyped song, for they take the place of talk in the family of the musician. They are best heard at the nest, where perhaps you may listen to a variety of small talk, such as the infantile, lisping notes of the hungry Emotional brooding bird coaxing her mate to feed her; the xpressions tender note of her mate calling her to come to the door for the food he has brought; pretty conjugal notes of greeting and farewell; the chattering scold and cries of anger, anxiety, or terror heard when enemies threaten ; sharp notes ot warning to the young, and wails of grief when harm has come to the nestlings. Such notes, given ?mphasis by vivacious, eloquent movements and gestures, interpret the thoughts and feelings ot these intense little feathered folks almost as clearly as elaborate conversa- tions do the emotions ot less demonstrative human beings 282 The Tufted Titmouse The various songs of the Tufted Titmouse have been carefully de- scribed by Nuttall, the old ornithologist, who says that "the Peto" and the Carolina Wren were his "constant and amusing companions" during a winter spent in the solitudes of the Southern States. After writing that "the notes of the Peto generally partake of the high, echoing, clear tone of the Baltimore Bird," Nuttall describes what he calls peevish notes, "uttered in anger at being approached," answered, perhaps, "by some neighboring rival, against whom d they aPPeared levelled in taunt and ridicule, being ac- companied by extravagant gestures." These notes were given in a low, hoarse, "harsh voice, and in a peevish tone exactly like that of the Jay and the Chickadee . . . day-day-day-day, and day- day-day-day-dait," sometimes becoming low and querulous. 'Tshica-dee-dc and kai-tee-did did-dit-did were other variations. "Later in the season, in February," Nuttall goes on to say, "when, in the lower part of Alabama, the mild influence of spring began already to be felt, our favorite, as he gaily pursued the busy tribe of insects, now his principal food, called, as he vaulted restlessly from branch to branch, in an echoing, rapid voice, at short intervals, peto-peto-peto-peto. This tender call of recognition was at length answered, and continued at intervals for a minute or two; they then changed their quick call into a slower peto peto peto; and now the natural note passed into the plain- tive key, sounding like que-ah que-ah; then, in the same breath, a jarring note, like that of the Catbird, and, in part, like the sound made by putting the lower lip to the upper teeth, and calling 'tsh 'vah, 'tsh 'vah. After this a call of kerry-kerry-kerry-kerry struck up with an echoing sound ... At length, more delicately than the first, in an undertone, you hear anew, and in a tender accent, peto peto peto peto. In the caprice and humor of our performer, tied by no rules but those of momentary feeling, the expression will perhaps change into a slow and full peet-peet- a-peet-a-peet, then a low and very rapid ker-ker-ker- Nuttall's ker-ker-kerry, sometimes so quick as almost to re- Interpretation semble the rattle of a watchman. At another time his morning song commences like the gentle whispers of an aerial spirit, and then becoming high and clear like the voice of the Nightingale, he cries keva keva keva keva; but soon falling into the querulous, the day- day-day-day-day-dait of the Chickadee terminates his performance. Imi- tative, as well as inventive," Nuttall continues, "I have heard the Peto also sing something like the lively chatter of the Swallow, leta-leta-leta- letalit, and then vary into peto-peto-peto-peto extremely quick." In conclusion Nuttall says that while the song of the Peto is confined to these "simple, playful, or pathetic calls, yet the compass of voice and the tone in which they are uttered, their capricious variety, and their general effect, at the season of the year when they are heard, are quite as pleasing to the contemplative observer as the more exquisite notes of the summer songsters of the verdant forest." TUFTED TITMOUSE Order— PASSKRES Family— PARID/E Genus— B^OLOPHUS Species— BICO LOR National Association of Audubon Societies The Tufted Titmouse 283 The varied notes and tones of the Titmouse easily interpret its chang- ing moods, but an additional clue to its state of mind is given by its use of its crest. For, though it generally deserves the name sometimes given— "Top-knot Bird" — when pre- An occupied in hunting for its dinner, or forcing itself to brave danger, it may change its expression entirely by flattening its crest until, except for a point at the back of its head, it is almost as round-headed as a Chickadee. Like Emerson's Chickadee, the Tom-tit "Shows feats of his gymnastic play, Head downward, clinging to the spray." but it is dinner rather than gymnastics that he is thinking of. Leaves and cracks and crannies of bark he is examining with microscopic care for insects or their eggs or larvae. When not hunting insect-eggs like a Chickadee, the Tom-tit may be cracking nuts like a Blue Jay, hammering away at one held firmly under his foot. Beechnuts, hazelnuts, chinquapins, or even acorns, he accepts cheerfully. Wild berries, such as those of dogwood and Virginia creeper, are also taken in their turn ; and, in their proper season, grasshoppers, beetles, cutworms and caterpillars form a large part of his diet. Boll-weevils and scale- insects, two of the worst insect pests of the country, are sometimes eaten by him; while his nearest relatives in California and the South- west take an active part in destroying these dangerous enemies of man. The Titmice do good by eating the insects, and also by carrying them to their voracious young in the nest. The nest of the Tom-tit, like that of the Chickadee, is almost always in a ready-made hollow, very often in a deserted Woodpecker's nest, especially in that of the Red-bellied Woodpecker. On rare occasions the Tom-tit is said to excavate its own nest. To line the hollows the birds carry in a variety of materials. For foun- dation they sometimes use grasses, strips of bark and Spanish moss, filling in with a lining of soft materials jrn!^ lfl* such as feathers and hair. Where do they get these soft furnishings? That is one of the many interesting things to find out. A hair-gatherer was once seen, as the observer supposed, trying to drive off a red squirrel. But field-glasses told a different story. The squirrel lay resting on a branch and the Titmouse "would approach cautiously from behind and catch at its tail." The industrious bird kept doing this until it "had collected quite a mouthful of the hairs, with which it flew off to a hole nearby, where it was deposited !'' The observer does not tell us whether the squirrel was asleep or whether it remonstrated with its small neighbor ; but the incident shows that many surprising things are to be seen and heard in the woods. An- other case is recorded of one of these Titmice getting hairs from a living dog; and a second of a young lady who was astonished to find one of 284 The Tufted Titmouse these enterprising birds trying to pull hairs from her carefully arranged locks ! While the Tom-tit usually nests in a hole in a tree or stump, one eccentric bird has been found building in a bunch of Spanish moss. When a violent storm came, her eggs were blown to the ground But, as the observer says, "undismayed, she began to work again in the same bunch of moss." Her mate did not approve estmg m ^ ^j^ an(j "Would fly into a hollow near at hand and whistle for her." It did no good, however She went and looked into the hole he had picked out, but then went back to the moss, working rapidly and carrying "huge mouthfuls at every trip." It was all in vain. When her eggs were laid another storm came and both eggs and nest were found on the ground. The nest, besides dry leaves, hair, sedge, and feathers, contained snake-skins ! Ail this goes to prove that birds are not all alike, any more than people are ; that it is never safe to say alzvays and never about birds' habits ; and that, in watching birds it pays to keep one's eyes and ears wide open. The eggs of this Titmouse vary from five to eight, and are white, marked with brown. The dependence of the Tom-tits on holes in trees for nesting-sites is illustrated by a case in Missouri, where the "hard and gnarled black- jacks failed to afford the necessary hollows, and, smg a where, consequently, Titmice and birds of similar Nest-box 11- • • ITM i habits were missing. When nesting-boxes were put up for Bluebirds and Wrens a pair of Tom-tits took possession of one of them and raised their brood in it. Not only do the Titmice need holes to nest in in summer, but to roost in in winter, for unlike most birds the hardy little fellows do not go south in the autumn, but spend the winter where they have passed the summer. Like Emerson's Titmouse, they might read us an excellent moral : Live out-of-doors In the great woods, on prairie floors. I dine in the sun ; when he sinks in the sea, I too have a hole in a hollow tree. * * * * For well the soul, if stout within, Can arm impregnably the skin. Classification and Distribution The Tufted Titmouse belongs to the Order Passcrcs and to the Family Paridcc. Its scientific name is Balophus bicolor. It is found from Nebraska, Iowa, Ohio, and New Jersey, southward to central Texas, the Gulf coast and Florida ; and occasionally as far north as the southern parts of Wisconsin, Michigan, New York and Connecticut. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE WOOD THRUSH By T. GILBERT PEARSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 72 Throughout the southern part of its range this bird is widely known as the Wood Robin. Altogether, this is not a bad name. The Wood Thrush is not far from the size of our well-known and much-beloved Redbreast, and its movements, when walking or hopping along the NEST AND EGGS OF WOOD THRUSH IN CEDAR TREE. DEMAREST. N. J. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish ground, are strikingly similar to those of this well-known species. A near approach reveals the fact that the general marking, particularly the heavily spotted breast, is quite distinct. At close range, therefore, there is little possibility of even the most amateur student confusing the two birds in the adult plumage. The wonderfully melodious song of this Thrush is highly characteristic. As Dr. Chapman lias said "It is a message of hope and good cheer in the morning, a benediction at the close of day." 286 The Wood Thrush "In Useful Birds and Their Protection," Mr. E. H. Forbush has written : "The song of the Wood Thrush is one of the finest specimens of bird music that America can produce. Among all the bird songs that I have heard it is second only in quality to that Heavenly Q£ ^ permit Thrush. It is not projected upon the still air with the effort that characterizes the bold and vigorous lay of the Robin, or the loud and intermittent carol of the Thrasher. Its tones are solemn and serene. They seem to harmonize with the sounds of the forest, the whispering breeze, the purling water, or the falling of rain-drops in the woods. As with most other birds, there is a great difference in the excellence of individual performers, and, while some males of the species can produce such notes as few birds can rival, this cannot be said of all. At evening the bird usually mounts to the higher branches of the taller trees, often upon the edge of the forest, where nothing intervenes to confine or subdue his 'heavenly music.' There, sitting quite erect, he emits his wonderful notes in the most leisurely fashion, and apparently with little effort. A-olle, he sings and rests ; then, unhurried, pours forth a series of intermittent strains, which seem to express in music the sentiment of nature ; powerful, rich metallic, with the vanishing vibratory tones of the bell, they seem like a vocal expression of the mystery of the universe, clothed in a melody so pure and etheral that the soul, still bound to its earthly tenement, can neither imitate nor describe it. The song rises and falls, swells and dies away, until dark night has fallen. The alarm note of the bird is sharp pit, pit, several times repeated; this alarm often rises to a long roll. A soft cluck, also repeated, is sometimes heard. A mellow, rather liquid, chirp is another common note." The Wood Thrush is not among the early feathered arrivals in spring. In fact, we do not see it until the new leaves are well started, and warm weather has advanced sufficiently to render improbable the recurrence of one of those backward blasts of winter which so often In Spring occur in early spring. It is during the last ten days of April that we usually find the first Wood Thrush -in the latitude of New York. Within a few days after his song is heard ringing through the woodlands, practically all the Wood Thrush delega- tion arrives. Love-making shortly begins, and full complements of eggs may be looked for within three weeks. The building of a nest to suit the taste of a pair of Wood Thrushes involves no small amount of labor. Although the birds feed on the ground, and spend much of their time running or hopping about in the grass or among the fallen leaves, they do not regard this as a good place for their eggs and young. Up in a small tree, from six to ten feet above the earth, they choose their nesting-site. The fork of an upright limb, or where the main stem of a sapling divides, is looked upon as a choice situation. Here large dead leaves, and sometimes pieces of paper, are brought, and these, held WOOD THRUSH Order — PASSER ES Family — TURDID* Genus— HYLOCICHLA Species— MUSTKLINA National Association of Audubon Societies The Wood thrush 287 together with sticks and twigs, form the bottom and sides of the struc- ture. Mud is brought to make the inner cup secure and strong. This feature of the nest follows closely the architectural plan employed by the Robin. The similarity ends here, however, for the Wood Thrush's nest is usually lined with fine rootlets, while the Robin seems to prefer dried grass for this purpose. In this secure structure the baby birds usually find a safe cradle until the time comes for them to launch forth into the world of dangers about them. The eggs are usually deposited one each day, until the full com- plement has been reached. Four is the number most usually laid, YOUNG WOOD THRUSH JUST AFTER LEAVING NEST Photographed by B. S. Bowdish although the bird may sometimes be found engaged in the business of incubation with only three, and, again, five may be seen. The color is a delightful bluish-green, but £«• compared with other green eggs this tint is lighter — not so deep as that of the Catbird's eggs. In fact these eggs resemble very closely those of the Robin, and if they were only slightly darker, it would be almost impossible to distinguish the two. In reference to its food, the Wood Thrush is classified as an insect- eating bird, and its value as such has become so generally recognized that it is now protected by local laws in all parts of the United States where it is found. As an additional safeguard, a measure, known as the McLean, or Migratory Bird Law, which was enacted by Congress 288 The Wood Thrush in the year 1913, absolutely prohibits the killing of these birds at all seasons in all parts of the country. Thus the bird now dwells beneath the combined protection of the Government and the several States. As most of this bird's life is passed on the ground or among the shrubbery, we would Food naturally expect it to eat those small forms of life found in such situations. Practically any insect which it comes upon in its apparently aimless travels about the groves and tbickets is doomed to speedy destruction, unless escape is instantly ef- fected. Beetles that inhabit the ground or the bark of trees are eaten, as well as grasshoppers, snails, spiders, and the larvae of many moths and other succulent insects. Now and then the bird steals into the garden to take a gooseberry or blackberry, but if the earth has bfeen recently spaded it shows a decided preference for any cutworm, or ;crfher under- ground worm of similar character, that may have been exposed to the light of day. Wood Thrushes eat wild fruit and berries to some extent, but their characteristic shyness evidently prevents them from acquiring that intimacy with mankind which would tend to make them feel as much at home in the cherry tree as does our dear, but at times annoying, Robin. There are few birds which make so strong an appeal to the nature lover as does the Wood Thrush. Many are the things to be said in its favor, and rare, indeed, is it to find anyone who, knowing this shy sylvan beauty, has aught to say against it. It is one of the few well-known birds which is universally popular, and it deserves all the protection which mankind can give it. All wild creatures, of course, have their enemies. Snakes, weasels, hawks, and owls are among what we may call the natural enemies of small birds. Against these destroyers our feathered friends have for long centuries been able to hold their own in numbers. Enemies Mankind, however, has brought many changes in the wild-life conditions of the country, and. while we have destroyed many of the creatures which formerly thinned the Wood Thrush ranks, we have introduced others whose destructive effects are vastly more potent. Here is the tragic trio which zve have let loose upon American wild-bird life: the sling-shot boy, the all-eating Italian, and the ravenous house-cat. Classification and Distribution The Wood Thrush belongs to the Order Passeres, Suborder Oscines, Family Turdidcc, and Subfamily Turdince. Its scientific name is Hylocichla mustelina. It 1 -reeds from southern South Dakota and southern New Hampshire, south to eastern Texas and northern Florida, and winters from southern Mexico to Nicaragua and Costa Rica, occurring casually in winter as far north as New Jersey. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE WHIP-POOR-WILL By T. GILBERT PEARSON THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 73 While walking along a country road one evening after the sun had set and darkness had all but fallen, I suddenly discovered some object on the ground a few yards ahead. At almost the same moment it rose, and, on slow-moving wings, flew over the fence and disappeared in the gloom of the woods. The flight was so silent, and the wings were so broad, it was difficult to believe that it was not a great moth that had just departed from view. I knew, however, that I had disturbed a Whip-poor-will in the midst of its twilight dust-bath. Evidently it had been trying for several minutes to find just the right spot, for there in the soft earth were three slight but distinct hollows, such as only a dust- ing bird would make. Soon afterward I heard it calling, or perhaps it was its mate, whip- poor-will, •whip-poor-will; the shouts came ringing through the darkness, six, eight, or perhaps twenty times repeated. Then, after a pause, the plaintive but stirring notes would again come up from The Song the old apple orchard, and fill all the space round about the farm-house. The still summer night seemed to belong to this strange bird of the shadows, for its rhythmical cry took possession of the silences, and filled the listener with contented exhilara- tion. All attempts to approach it that night were futile, for its big, bright eyes evidently penetrated the shadows with ease, and, long before we could even make out its form, it would fly to another perch several rods away. Only when it announced its presence by calling did we know its position. Two or three times, however, we came near enough to hear the low note, something like chuck, which immediately precedes the first loud whip of its song. Ernest Ingersoll, in his book "Wit of the Wild," says a Whip-poor- will, while singing, "will often make a beginning and then seem to stop and try it over again, like a person practicing a new tune; but these interruptions really mean so many leaps into the air, t0to Fafing w^ Perhaps frantic dodges and a somersault or two, for the snatching and devouring of some lusty insect that objects to the process." We listened for this, but all the calls wo heard were complete throughout each performance. Tt was fully two hours after the sun had set before the last note of this mysterious night- flyer was heard. Just before dawn it called agfain several times, and the farmer's wife said she feared it was sittiner on the stone door-step. She was somewhat disturbed about this, and intimated that if it were there the 290 The Whip-poor-will action would bring sorrow to the household. It seems odd that people should be superstitious about anything as harmless as a bird, but in rural communities one often finds people who believe much ill-luck may happen to them if a Whip-poor-will sings too close to the house. If they were better acquainted with this gentle, feathered creature, they would surely know that nothing evil could come from it. Many more people have heard this bird call than have ever seen it, for, like the owl, its day begins only when the sun goes down, and before the sun comes up again it has settled to sleep on the dead leaves that cover the ground in the thicker parts of the woods. It appears never to give its call during the daytime. While hunting for wild flowers you will sometimes come upon its hiding-place. It must sleep with one ear open, for the bird seems always to hear you before you see it, and on silent wings it will rise and fly quickly out of sight among the bushes. If such an experience should happen to one in the months of May or June, it is quite worth while to search the leaves very carefully, for you may have stumbled upon the nest, which, in reality, is no nest at all, but is simply a place on the leaves that the mother- Nest bird has chosen to be the temporary home of her little ones. The faintly spotted, cream-colored eggs so closely resemble the faded, washed-out, last season's leaves on which they are lying, that it takes a sharp eye, indeed, to find them. So one should proceed slowly, lest an unfortunate step might crush the two little oblong beauties. Usually one is not quite certain of the exact spot from which the bird flew. On such occasions I sometimes place my hat or handkerchief on the ground near the place, and, like a dog hunting for a lost trail, begin to walk around the spot, increasing the circle con- stantly as I go. By this means, sooner or later, one will be pretty sure to find the eggs if they are there. If, when the bird flies, it soon comes to the earth again, and appears to be suffering from sudden injury, you may be sure that it has a secret that it is trying to keep from you, and, by feigning a broken wing, it hopes you will follow in an attempt to capture it. Feigning Injury If you approach the bird, it will fly before you a few yards at a time until, having led you away a safe distance from the nest, it will suddenly recover, and, then, rising strong on the wing, you will see it no more. Doubtless the eggs are often saved from destruction in this way, for a hunting dog, fox, or 'coon, will seek to catch the bird, and entirely overlook the presence of eggs or young. If the eggs have hatched you will need to look even closer if you are to be rewarded. The two little Whip-poor-wills, with their soft, downy coats, will lie motionless on the leaves, without even so much as an eyelid .moving to betray their presence. Their coloring, too, blends so wonderfully with their surroundings that I sometimes wonder if any enemy is ever able to find them. In many of the Southern States lives the Chuck-will's-widow, which also bears the name given to its call. It is larger than the Whip-poor- The Whip-poor-will 291 will, but, like it, is nocturnal in its habits. So .closely do the two birds resemble each other, both in physical structure and in habits, that naturalists tell us they are near relatives, and, in fact, they classify them as belonging to the same family. Many of the people who live in the forests where these birds are found do not know much about the scientific study of birds, and usually believe that these two night-prowlers are one and the same birds. They will tell you that the Chuck-will's-widow is the male \Yhip-poor-will. Down in the lake country of central Florida, as a boy, I used to listen to the Chuck-will's-widow calling on summer nights. When the winter months came, however, the cries that came up from the deep woods of an evening were different, for at that season these birds were all gone, and their places taken by Whip-poor-wills which had arrived from the more northern States to pass the winter where the snows never fall, and frosts seldom come. Another closely related bird is often confused in the public mind with the Whip-poor-will. This is the Nighthawk, or "Bull-bat." Very many persons think there is no difference in these birds, but there is a marked difference, both in appearance and habits. The Night- hawk's wings are much longer, and, when folded, Niihthawk reach well beyond the end of the tail, while the Whip- poor-will's wings do not extend even as far as the end of the tail. The Nighthawk flies about in the early evening, long before sunset, and may sometimes be seen, even at noontime, hawking about for insects. It often feeds hundreds of feet in the air, and may remain on the wing for an hour or more at a time. On the other hand, its cousin of the shadows comes out of its seclusion so late in the evening only, that it is difficult to see it, and it captures its food by short flights near the ground. The Whip-poor-will, and the other two birds I have mentioned, belong to the family of birds called Goatsuckers. They have very weak feet and legs, and so move very slowly and feebly when on the ground. They sit lengthwise on a limb, fence-rail, or other object on which they chance to perch, and very rarely use the crosswise position so commonly adapted by the perching birds. The mouth in this group is one of the wonders of the bird-world because of its enormous size. All around the upper lip is arranged a series of long, stiff, curving hairs, which form a sort of broad scoop-net in which the bird entangles and seizes its insect- prey, for it always feeds while on the wing, and the agile gnats and moths might often be able to dodge or slip out of the very small beak possessed by these birds were it not for the wide fringe of bristles. Few birds are more valuable to the farmer than is the Whip-poor-will. It never does him any harm in any way, for it does not eat his cherries and strawberries, nor does it pull up his newly planted corn, nor eat his millet seed. It does not fill up the drainage-pipes of his house with sticks and leaves as do the Wrens ; it does not eat his chicken-feed as do the pestiferous European Sparrows, nor catch his young poultry . What it does for him is to eat the ever-swarming insects that lay the eggs that 292 The Whip-poor-will batch into caterpillars and destroy the leaves of shade and fruit-trees. May-beetles and leaf-eating beetles are destroyed by it also. In truth, fortunate, indeed, is the grower of grain, or the raiser of fruit who, during the spring and summer nights, has one or more pairs oi these birds about his place, for all during the hours when the farmer sleeps the Whip-poor-will is busy ridding his place of these harmful insects. Mr. Ingersoll says: "They never regularly sweep through the upper air as does the Nighthawk, but seek their food near the ground by leap- ing after it in short, erratic flights. They have a way of balancing them- selves near a tree-trunk or barn- wall, picking ants and other small prov- ender off the bark ; and even hunt for worms and beetles on the ground, turning over the leaves to root them out. It is not until their first hunger has been assuaged that one hears that long, steady Insect Catching chanting for which the bird is distinguished, and which, as a sustained effort, is perhaps unequalled elsewhere. . . . It is an ordinary feat for him to 'whip-poor-will' with two or three hundred strokes in unbroken succession." In the early autumn, the Whip-poor-wills simply disappear without warning. As they reappear far to the south, we know, of course, that they have migrated, but when did they go and how? Did they journey over the hundreds of miles of intervening space by short flights, or did they mount high in air, as do many small birds, and fly swiftly for long hours at a time ? Did they go singly or in flocks ? These and other ques- tions about this mysterious bird of the night remain to be answered fully. Perhaps some young reader of this paper will grow up to be a naturalist who will explain these things' more fully to the less observant students of birds. No one should ever kill one of these useful birds. Its great value . to mankind has become generally recognized in recent years, and the laws of all States where the bird is found provide that anyone who kills a Whip-poor-will shall be fined or imprisoned. Classification and Distribution The Whip-poor-will belongs to the Order Macrochires and Family Capri mulgidae; and its scientific name is Antrostomus rociferus vociferus. It ranges through eastern North America, breeding from the St. Lawrence Valley and Nova Scotia south to northern Georgia and Louisiana, as far west as the border of the Plains; it winters from the South Atlantic and Gulf Coast to British Honduras. The only other subspecies is macromystox, of Mexico and the adjacent border of the United States. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at 5 cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE ROSEATE SPOONBILL By FRANK M. CHAPMAN THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 74 When Dr. Henry Bryant visited Pelican Island, in Indian River, Florida, in 1858, he found not .only Brown Pelicans but also Roseate Spoonbills nesting there. But even at that early date these beautiful and interesting birds were prey for the plume-hunters, some of whom, Dr. Bryant writes, were killing as many as sixty Spoonbills a day, and sending their wings to St. Augustine to be sold as fans. From that time almost to the present day "Pink Curlews," as the Floridan calls them, have been a mark for every man with a gun. Only a remnant was left when the National Association of Audubon Societies began to protest against the further wanton destruction of bird-life, and, by the establishment of reservations, and a system of Q , , R. , guarding them by wardens, attempted to do for Florida &avm8 tne c what that State had not enough foresight to do for itself. Unfortunately, Florida is not alone in this neglect. By such precautions the Spoonbill and other birds have been saved to delight future generations of nature-lovers. Warden Kroegel, o£ Pelican Island, tells me that in June, 1913, he saw a flock of sixty on the Mosquito Inlet Reservation ; and on the day I pen these lines word comes from President Blackman, of the Florida Audubcn Society, that he had seen fifty Spoonbills on Bird Island, on the Gulf Coast. So let us hope that what I have to write here relates not to a species approaching extinction, but to one which, under proper guardianship, is increasing, and will continue to increase. The Roseate Spoonbill belongs to one of those families of birds which, like the Ibises, Parrots, Trogons, and many others, are distributed throughout the warmer parts of the earth. Thus there are European, African, Asian, and Australian Spoonbills, all with the singularly shaped bill to which they owe their Distribution common name, but none pink like ours. This small family contains only six members; and how they have become so widely scattered geographically is a question no one has answered satisfactorily. It is, however, known that at one time in the earth's history what are now Arctic regions were very much warmer; and it is probable that at that period' Spoonbills lived on the border of the Arctic Sea, which was then bordered by a vegetation resembling that now found in our Southern States. When, toward the close of the Tertiary Era, the climate gradually grew colder, until finally the ice-cap of the Glacial Period formed all over 294 The Roseate Spoonbill the northern part of the continents, Spoonbills, with other birds, were forced southward into the warmer parts of both the Old World and the American continent. In that way the Spoonbill family, which previ- ously had dwelt together all around the borders of the Polar Sea, became separated into groups, each of which, in its new home, developed specific differences. Of the six species now known America received but one, the Roseate Spoonbill, whose peculiar scientific title (Ajaia a;a;a) is based on the name given it by certain South American Indians. Names When naturalists first knew this bird it was found throughout tropical America north to our Gulf States from Texas to Florida. In the United States it is now confined mainly to southern Florida. Although I first went to Florida in 1887, it was not until 1908 that I saw Spoonbills there. Doubtless always more common on the coast than in the interior, the few survivors were then to be found only in the most remote part of the great mangrove swamps south of the Everglades. On the evening of March 29, 1908, after traveling all day through mud and mangroves, we reached the Cuthbert rookery, near the extreme southern part of the peninsula, and saw, to our intense satisfaction, that among the thousands of Herons nesting on it were about forty Spoonbills. The beautiful peach-bloom-like pink of the Spoonbills is noticeable at a great distance. In manner of flight they resemble Ibises rather than Herons, the neck being held fully extended. The flock formation is also like that sometimes assumed by the Ibis, each bird flying behind, but a little to one side of the bird before it, making a diagonal file. Spoonbills, however, so far as I have observed, maintain a steady flapping of the wings, not interrupted by short sailings, as in the case of the Ibis. The Spoonbill's peculiarly shaped beak is adapted to an equally peculiar method of procuring food. I have never been close to one of these birds when feeding in its native haunts, but Audubon tells us that they "wade up to the tibia [shank] and immerse their Feeding bills in the water or soft mud, sometimes with the head and even whole neck beneath the surface. They move their partially opened mandibles laterally to and fro with a con- siderable degree of elegance, munching the fry, insects, or small fish which they secure before swallowing them." Audubon says nothing of the voice of the Spoonbill. At the Cuth- bert rookery I heard no notes I could identify as their's, but two years later, in Mexico, I heard them utter a low, croaking call at their nests. T. Gilbert Pearson, who once watched a flock of them feeding at close quarters, says that this grunting sound was continuous, as if the birds kept up a kind of conversation among themselves. Fear in animals is so often born of pursuit by man that it is fre- quently difficult to say whether birds that have been much hunted are shy instinctively or intelligently. Wild Ducks, we know, are as wary as birds ROSEATE SPOONBILL Order— HBRODIONKS Family— PLATALBID* Genus— AJAIA Species— AJAJA National Association of Audubon Societies The Roseate Spoonbill 295 well can be where they are shot, but surprisingly tame where they are protected and fed. I have seen White Egrets roost nightly near a hacienda in Cuba where they had learned they were safe, but those in the Cuth- bert rookery were startled into sudden flight by the report of a gun fired at a distance of a mile and a half. If, therefore, Spoonbills could be made to realize that man was their friend rather than their enemy, they, too, might learn to trust him. Although the Spoonbills in the Cuthbert rookery had nests contain- ing eggs, they deserted them as soon as we entered the rookery. An umbrella-blind was placed in one of the larger mangrove bushes, but after hours of waiting no Spoonbills were seen. At sunset _ the birds of various species began to return to the In Cuthbert rookery for the night. Flock after flock of White Ibises, with bright red feet and faces, came to roost in favorite trees. Louisiana herons greeted, with much talking, birds that had evidently been absent during the day. Turkey Vultures silently sailed in to perch in rows on the branches of a dead tree ; and suddenly six Spoonbills, with resonant woof-woof.-woof of beating wings, alighted in my foreground — one of them within fifteen feet of me. As it grew darker the birds became more numerous, pouring into the rookery from every side, and as they settled for the night and disputed the possession of some perch with their neighbors there arose a veritable Babel of voices. Their usual keen sight dimmed by the gloom, all the birds came to be less shy. A Louisiana Heron sought what was doubtless its regularly frequented perch within reach of my foot; others took adjoining limbs; and, as the crowning event of the afternoon, a Spoonbill and two Snowy Egrets roosted in the same tree with me. About a dozen Spoonbills' nests were situated in this rookery, four or five of which held fresh eggs ; in one were four, in the others, three eggs. These nests were in the mangroves, often near one another, and at an average height of ten or twelve feet above the ground. They were made of larger sticks than those used by Nest and Eggs the American Egrets nesting near them. As a rule, the sticks were rather loosely put together, so that the nests were far from carefully made. The eggs of Spoonbills, as well as their habits and structure, indicate that they are more nearly related to the Ibises than to the Herons. Instead of being blue, like those of. Herons, the eggs are white, or pale greenish blue, more or less heavily blotched with brown at the larger end and with spots or specks scattered over the remaining surface, thus resembling the eggs of the White Ibis. They measure about two and a half inches in length, and one and three quarters in breadth. The eggs we found in the Cuthbert rookery on March 29 were freshly laid, but we had reason to believe that the birds had been robbed, and that this was .a second laying. Audubon says that the eggs are laid about the middle of April, but there are specimens in the United States National 296 The Roseate Spoonbill Museum which were secured on Marquesas Key, Florida, on January u, 1883. Unquestionably, therefore, the birds begin to nest as early as January. Dates may be later, as with the Cuthbert rooker}' birds' second layings, or owing to the variation in nesting-time that sometimes occurs among birds breeding in warm climates, where the necessity for regularity is not so urgent as it is further north, where the warm season is shorter. On April 17, 1910, I found a colony of about two hundred pairs of Roseate Spoonbills on Pajaro Island, in Tamiahua Lagoon, on the eastern coast of Mexico, south of Tampico. Most of their nests contained well- grown young at least a month old, and probably older. The Young Allowing a month for hatching, it is evident that these birds began to lay about the middle of February. Spoonbills are covered shortly after birth with a snowy white down, through which one may see enough of their pink skin to give them a reddish appearance ;" the feathers themselves, however, are not colored. While they are in the nest this plumage, "natal down," as it is called, is followed by what is known as the "Juvenal plumage," in which they leave the nest. In general appearance young Spoonbills then strongly resemble their parents, but the head and throat are thinly covered with white feathers, and the rusty marks at the sides of the breast and at the end of the tail of the adult have become pink. In this Mexican colony four was the usual number of young. They were well-behaved youngsters, and in the absence of their parents rested peacefully in their homes, or occasionally ventured on thrilling excursions of a few feet to the adjoining limbs. But when their parents returned they were all attention and on the alert for food. On such occasions they usually stood in a row on the edge of the nest facing the old birds, and in a most comical manner swung the head and neck up and down. I have seen balanced mechanical toys which would make almost exactly the same motion. The toys, however, were silent, while the little Spoonbills all joined in a chorus of tremulous, trilling whistles, which grew louder and more rapid as the parent approached. What their parents brought them I could not see, nor, for that matter, could they. But, with a confidence born of experience, the bird that had the first opportunity pushed its bill and head far down into its parent's mouth to get whatever was there. This singular operation sometimes lasted as long as ten seconds, and it was terminated only by the parent which, much against the will of its offspring, disengaged itself; then after a short rest a second youngster was fed, and thus in due time the whole family was satisfied. Classification and Distribution The Roseate Spoonbill belongs to the Order Herodiones and Family Plata- leidae ; and its scientific name is Ajaia ajaja. It ranges throughout South America and formerly inhabited the whole northern coast of the Gulf of Mexico, and the lower Mississippi Valley, but now exists only in southern Florida. NOTR — Additional copies of this and other Educational Leaflet-; mav b» obtained for 5 cents each from the National Association of Audubon Societies, No. 1974 Broadway, New York City. THE SORA RAIL By EDWARD HOWE FORBUSH THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 75 In the marsh Jhe wilderness makes its last stand. Civilization sweeps a\\;iy the forest, dams and diverts the streams, cultivates prairie, hiil, and meadow, traverses the pond in boats, and destroys the native birds and mammals, but the marsh remains unconquered to the last. Along the Atlantic seaboard, where agriculture and civilization have held sway for hundreds of years, stretches of bog-land yet persist, even within the limits of cities ; and here >uch shy creatures as inhabited them when Columbus discovered America still maintain their homes. Here the great snapping- turtle drags its slow length along, here the Bittern may be heard "driving its stake," and here the Rail peers from its age-old fastness — the cover of reeds, flags, and sedges. Man dislikes the quaking bog and the miry ooze, and so it remains a refuge for the light-footed and defenseless ones that can run over its shuddering expanse or crawl in its mud and water. Rushes, sedges, waving cattails, and lush water-plants in tangled profusion, form a curtain screening the private life of the Rails from human view. We hear sounds from behind this screen, and now and then a "Mud-hen" peeps out; and so we have come to associate them with the steaming summer morass, the pond-weeds, pickerel-weed, and the lily-pads, over which, light of weight and splay-footed, they can run at will. Some of their notes are such as might be expected to come from a frog-breeding morass; others are as sweet and wild as those of the Whip-poor-will, or of the Solitary Vireo. Rails have some notes that rc-emble and harmonize with the frog-chorus, such as krek, krek, knk. knk. knk, and others more subdued and varied. 1 may venture to assert that no man yet has fully identified all the notes of all the species of American Rails, and probably no one man ever will. I have heard sounds in the marshes that I could not identify. In iSSn William I'.rewster devoted two weeks to. an at- Mysterious i r> -i i j • Ai /" L -j Bird-voices tempt to see a supposed Rail heard in the Cambridge marshes, lie never saw it. and the voice is still a mystery, although it has been heard many times since and in other places. This bird may have been a Yellow Rail, but twice 1 have heard a wonderful solo from the marshes, partly original, and partly in seeming imitation of other birds, which, from its quality. I ran attribute only to the Sora. This "song" was kept up intermittently for several hours, and showed great versatility; 298 The Sora Rail some of the notes were frog-like, but most of them were like those of a bird. A common call or song has been rendered ker zvec; and the Sora has a high "whinny" — also notes like peeping chickens. The Rail is a bird of mystery. I always feel like putting an inter- rogation-point after the name. About the habits of no other common birds do we know so little. The Sora Rail is one of the most abundant birds of North America, and has been sold in the mar- ^ar kets by thousands for more than a century. It breeds commonly, even abundantly, over a great part of the United States and Canada ; yet most of its habits, and, perhaps, many of its notes, are still largely its own secret. While floating in a light canoe down the sluggish current of some marsh-bordered river in September you may watch the Sora silently stealing along the muddy margin, poking things with its short yellow bill, and gently jetting its tail ; or in tramp- ing along the edge of the marsh you may see one flutter up, just above the grass and reeds, and fly awkwardly, with dangling legs, across some slimy spool, to drop clumsily out of sight again, as in the accompanying picture. This is about all the observant traveller ever sees of the bird. Rails are timid, skulking fowls and pass the greater part of their lives wading under cover of water-plants or squeezing between the grass- stems. They have done this so much that their little bodies have become compressed from side to side, and they can voluntarily shrink in width, so as to push their way between stems apparently only half an inch apart. Hence the pro- verbial phrase "thin as a rail." Rails make for themselves dark and winding passages among the reeds, grasses, and rushes, along which they may run swiftly to escape four-footed enemies, and, at the same time, remain concealed from winged foes. They come out into the open when they believe that the coast is clear, with no enemy in sight, or at night, when hawks are absent. The Black Rail has kept its secrets so well that, although a cen- tury has elapsed since Americans began to study ornithology, Arthur T. Wayne, in 1904, was the first person to see the mother-bird on her nest. This was in South Carolina. Perhaps some investigator of the future may build a watch-tower in a marsh and study the habits of the marsh- folk with a spy-glass, but until something of this sort is undertaken we are likely to know little of Rails' habits. The curiosity of these birds, however, may become of advantage to the observer, as they have been known to approach a hunter lying in wait for ducks Curiosity and peck his clothing, boots, or gunbarrel. A quiet man is to them a wonder, for they are accustomed to associate much noise and movement with all humankind. The Sora nests about the borders of prairie sloughs, in the soft, dense grasses, or sometimes on a tussock. In the marshes of the East the nest is often placed in a bunch of coarse grass, or among the cattail- flags or other rushes. It is sometimes a bulky, arched structure, made SORA Order— PALUDICOU* Family— RALLID/C Genus— PORZANA Species— CAROLINA National Association cf Audubon Societies The Sora Rail 299 of weeds, grasses, rushes, etc. ; sometimes a slight platform, or a mere shallow basket. Often it is hung among cattails, several inches clear of the water, with a pathway of trampled blades leading to it, while nest and all are screened by the over-arching flags, and, occasionally, one is found in a tussock on the bank of a brook. The eggs vary from six to fifteen in number, and are buffy white, but deeper in shade than those of the Virginia Rail, and heavily spotted with brown and purple. Nelson says that the parents desert their nests and break their eggs when floods submerge their homes. The young Rails just from the egg are fascinating and supremely comical mites — little balls of down, black as jet, each with a bright-red protuberance at the base of the bill, and an air of pert defiance. It is a very clown ! So says Dawson, who came upon a brood just hatching. All took to their heels, except two luckless wights not yet out of the egg. At his ap- proach one more egg flew open, and a little black rascal rolled out, shook its natal coat, tumbled off the nest, and started to swim off to safety. The young of this bird have often been mistaken for those of the little Black Rail. They are certainly both small and sable. When they once leave the nest they are constantly in danger. Most of the larger animals and birds of the marshes, from the Sandhill Crane down to the mink, devour the eggs and young of Rails wherever they find them. In the water, snakes, frogs, fish, and turtles lie constantly in wait to swallow them. They soon become experts in climbing and hiding. They can clamber up and down the water-plants, or run through them over the water by clinging to the upright stems. They swim more like a chicken than like a duck, nodding their little heads comically as they advance. Necessity soon teaches them to drop into the water and dive like a stone to safety. As the autumn nights grow cooler migration begins. The ancients believed that the Rails passed the winter in the mud at the bottom of ponds, changing into frogs. Their frog-like notes, and the chug with which they sometimes dive, favored this delusion ; also, the sudden dis- appearance of all the Soras on a frosty night seemed suspicious. Some still, moonlit night, after a north wind, the Rails van- ished ; on the next morning ice covered the marshes, so Migratory the explanation that they had dived to escape the ice gained credence. Audubon alluded to this matter in the following pas- sage in Volume V of his Birds of America : "The most curious habit or instinct of this species is the nicety of »ensr by which they ascertain the last moment they can remain at any of their feeding grounds at which they tarry in autumn. One .day you may see or hear Soras in their favorite marshes, you may be aware of their presence in the dusk of the evening ; but when you return to the place early next morning they are all gone. Yesterday the weather was mild, to-day it is cold and raw ; and no doubt the Soras were aware that a 300 The Sora Rail change was at hand, and secured themselves from its influence by a prompt movement under night." Now we know that the Rails fly southward after dark. They often dash themselves against lighthouses, poles, telegraph-wires, and buildings, and one has even been known to impale itself on a barbed-wire fence. The little wings, which erstwhile could hardly raise the birds above the grass-tops, now carry them high and far. Some cross the seas to distant Bermuda, and they occasionally alight on vessels hundreds of miles at sea. They have been taken on the western mountains, even as high as 12,500 feet; in the sage-brush of the desert, and on the cliffs of the Isthmus of Darien. The food of Rails never has been carefully studied. Food We know that they are fond of many kinds of insects and worms, and that they eat snails and other sorts of aquatic life ; also parts of water-plants. The Sora, like many other swamp-birds, feeds largely in autumn on the seeds of wild rice. This makes them so fat that they become a dainty morsel for the epicure, and are pursued without mercy by market-hunters and "sportsmen" of all colors, ages, and classes. In the fresh-water meadows they are some- times driven from cover by dogs, and many are shot in this manner. Shooting them in their slow, fluttering flight in the daytime is about as difficult as hitting a tin can floating down a brook, and a good marks- man rarely misses one. The greatest slaughter is perpetrated on the tide- water marshes of the Middle Atlantic States, where gunners shoot almost anything that flies. When the tide rises high Merciless enough to allow small boats to float over the marshes, Slaughter . ... n .. boats are poled into every refuge of the poor Rails, and, as they seek safety in flight, they are shot down without mercy. Hundreds of thousands are thus killed whenever the tide is high. The negroes of the South pursue a similar sport at night, blinding the birds with torches, and striking them down with poles. This wholesale killing has greatly decreased the Sora Rail in New England, but the species is very prolific, and is still numerous in many marshes in the West and Northwest. The draining of lakes and marshes for farming purposes, which breaks up their breeding-grounds, will inevitably reduce their numbers still more, year by year, so that stringent protection will be necessary to maintain the species. Classification and Distribution The Sora belongs to the Order Paludicola, or marsh-birds, Suborder Ralli, Family Rallidce, and Subfamily Rallincc, which includes the Rails and Crakes. It ranges over most of North America, breeds from central British Columbia, and the valleys of the North Saskatchewan and St. Lawrence rivers south to southern California, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Illinois, and New Jersey; and it winters from northern California, Illinois, and South Carolina, to Venezuela and Peru. This and other Educational Leaflets are for sale, at o cents each, by the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City. Lists given on request. THE PINTAIL By HERBERT K. JOB THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES Educational Leaflet No. 76 Along the wild shores of Lake Winnipegosis, in northern Manitoba, in a region known as the Waterhen River Country, extends a wide belt of bog and meadow, back of which lies the unbroken, primeval, poplar forest. This forest abounds in moose and deer, and there covies of Ruffed Grouse whir up before one into the low trees with surprising frequency, and gaze curiously at their first sight ^of man. The interminable strip of marsh by the lake harbors throngs of waterfowl of many kinds. Much of it is overgrown with a bewildering maze of reed, rush, and cane, dissected by narrow, winding, waterways, ... &' „ . . * ' Marshes here and there uniting in open ponds. 1 his is the home of such birds as the various Grebes, the Loon, Black Tern, Bittern, and the Canvasback, Redhead, and Ruddy Ducks. Other parts are more open and meadow-like. In one part this meadow is alkaline, and a series of shallow, brackish ponds and pools with muddy margins extends for many miles. Although the clouds of mosquitos bred in these pools are dreadful, compensations are present. Along these shores, late in May, feed tribes of migratory shore-birds in elegant nuptial plumage — Sand- pipers, Plovers, the Lesser Yellowlegs, some Marbled Godwits, an occa- sional Hudsonian Godwit, an American Avocet, or a pretty party of Northern Phalaropes, swimming like tiny geese. Out in the middle of the pools flocks of ducks disport themselves — all breeding in the vicinity. They are not very wild, and one may readily approach them behind tall grass or bushes, and, with a field-glass, see each one as clearly as though it were actually in hand. They are of the kind which prefers the shallow, open pools of the prairie sloughs. The males are in gaudy spring livery. All swim in mated pairs, each of which has its nest hidden rot far away in the old grass of the past season. Some are still laying eggs, and the partial sets are cleverly covered with a blanket of down plucked t>y the female from the under surface of her body. Others have covered their brooded eggs, and are out for a restful swim and luncheon with the lordly head of the house, wh > is too aristocratic to take his turn on the ei^s. and will