^”T. C lo, & ^2^mj^i/^ &y-^ PORTRAITS AND HABITS OF OUR BIRDS & Portraits and Habits of Our Birds Prepared by Various Authors QL 681 P 35" 113S v.l Si rob Edited by T. Gilbert Pearson, LL.D. Illustrated with Fifty Colored Plates by Louis Agassiz Fuertes, R. Bruce Horsfall, Edmund J. Sawyer, and Allan Brooks; also Thirty-eight Photographs and Drawings from Nature Volume I mSONMy MM 121987 _ usm National Association of AudubonSocieties New York City 1925 ®OU.ECT!ON. COPYRIGHT BY NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF AUDUBON SOCIETIES PRINTED BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY GARDEN CITY NEW YORK EDITOR’S NOTE That branch of the field of science, which deals with the naming and describing of new birds has practically reached the point of exhaustion in the United States. It would seem safe to make the statement that within our borders there is not left one species of bird that has gone unnamed or undescribed. Many students of ornithology, therefore, are turning their at- tention more especially to that realm which deals with the habits and activities of birds. This vast field of research is open, not only to those of scientifically trained minds, but to all who love birds and whose interest in the subject extends even slightly be- yond the range of casuality. There is a world of facts to be learned about the habits and movements of even our most common birds. Does the House Wren have the same mate every year until one of the pair succumbs, and to what age does it live? Does the same pair of birds return to your bird box year after year? You may think so, but what is your proof? Wliy have the Cliff Swallows in many parts of the country decreased in numbers, while the Barn Swallows, whose habits of nesting and feeding are very similar, have held their own in these same regions? Of a flock of ducks raised in a Minnesota slough, why do some fly to Canada, some to California and others to the coast of Virginia? Who knows where the Chimney Swift goes in autumn and where does it spend the winter months? To a man who cares little for technical ornithology, but who enjoys having the birds about his home, the subject is a source of never-failing interest, and his zeal increases as he reads of their activities or watches their movements. This book, consisting of the first fifty Educational Leaflets issued by the National Association of Audubon Societies, deals in a large measure with the habits and movements of fifty of our native birds. The articles are written by men and women of much field experience who are attempting to stimulate the further study of birds by pass- ing on various observations that have to them proven so absorbing. The colored illustrations, made from water-color drawings by America’s leading bird artists, will greatly aid the student in identi- fying these particular species. The outline drawings contained in this volume will furnish the child with an opportunity forthe use of crayons or water-colors. It is intended that this volume shall be followed from time to time by others of a similar nature. T. Gilbert Pearson. TABLE OF CONTENTS Nighthawk Mourning Dove . Meadowlark Upland Plover Flicker Passenger Pigeon .... Wood Duck Marsh Hawk Red-Shouldered Hawk. Sparrow Hawk Screech Owl Short-eared Owl Purple Martin Barn Owl Yellow-billed Cuckoo . Tree Sparrow Goldfinch Cardinal Belted Kingfisher . Rose-Breasted Grosbeak . Scarlet Tanager .... Blue Jay Killdeer Bluebird Red- winged Blackbird . Baltimore Oriole . . . . Indigo Bunting Purple Finch . . Herring Gull Snow Bunting Song Sparrow Barn Swallow . Tree Swallow . F. E. L. Beal T. Gilbert Pearson T. Gilbert Pearson Edward Howe Forbush T. Gilbert Pearson Edward Howe Forbush T. Gilbert Pearson P. Bernard Philipp William Dutcher William Dutcher William Dutcher . Philip B. Philipp William Dutcher William L. Finley T. Gilbert Pearson F. E. L. Beal William Dutcher William Dutcher William Dutcher William Dutcher William Dutcher Ernest Ingersoll . William Dutcher Mabel Osgood Wright . T. Gilbert Pearson Mabel Osgood Wright Mabel Osgood Wright Mabel Osgood Wright T. Gilbert Pearson Mabel Osgood Wright T. Gilbert Pearson Mabel Osgood Wright Mabel Osgood Wright PAGE I 5 9 13 17 21 25 29 33 37 41 45 49 53 57 61 65 69 73 77 81 85 89 93 97 101 105 109 113 117 121 125 129 Table of Contents Kinglets Crossbills ..... Mallard ..... Sharp-shinned Hawk. . Bobolink ..... House Wren .... Bush-Tit Mockingbird .... Orchard Oriole . Red-headed Woodpecker Franklin’s Gull . Black-headed Grosbeak Robin Bob- White Cedar Waxwing . . . Chimney Swift. . . . Carolina Wren . . . . Mabel Osgood Wright 133 . Mabel Osgood Wright 137 . Edward Howe Forbush 141 . Edward Howe Forbush 145 Frank M . Chapman 149 . Mabel Osgood Wright 153 William L. Finley 157 T. Gilbert Pearson 161 . Witmer Stone 165 Florence Merriam Bailey 169 . . Herbert K . Job 173 . William L. Finley 177 T. Gilbert Pearson 181 . Edward Howe Forbush 185 Edward Howe Forbush 189 T . Gilbert Pearson 193 . Witmer Stone 197 ILLUSTRATIONS COLORED PLATES FACING PAGE Blackbird, Red- winged 98 Bluebird 94 Bobolink 150 Bob-White. . 186 Bunting, Indigo 106 Bunting, Snow 118 Bush-Tit . 158 Cardinal 70 Crossbills 138 Cuckoo, Yellow-billed. .......... 58 Dove, Mourning 6 Duck, Wood 26 Finch, Purple no Flicker 18 Goldfinch 66 Grosbeak, Black-headed 178 Grosbeak, Rose-breasted 78 Gull, Franklin’s 174 Gull, Herring . 114 Hawk, Marsh 30 Hawk, Red-shouldered 34 Hawk, Sharp-shinned 146 Hawk, Sparrow 38 Jay, Blue 86 Killdeer. 90 Kingfisher, Belted 74 Kinglets, Golden and Ruby-crowned 134 Mallard . 142 Martin, Purple 50 Meadowlark 10 Mockingbird .............. 162 Illustrations FACING PAGE Nighthawk 2 Oriole, Baltimore 102 Oriole, Orchard 166 Owl, Barn 54 Owl, Screech 42 Owl, Short-eared 46 Pigeon, Passenger 22 Plover, Upland 14 Robin 182 Sparrow, Song 122 Sparrow, Tree 62 Swallow, Barn 126 Swallow, Tree 130 Swift, Chimney 194 Tanager, Scarlet 82 Waxwing, Cedar. .«* 190 Woodpecker, Red-headed 170 Wren, Carolina .198 Wren, House 154 photographs and drawings PAGE Bush-Tit, Adult. Photographed by H. T. Bohlman. . . 157 Bush-Tit, Young birds. Photographed by H. T. Bohlman. 160 Cardinal, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish, 69 Crossbill, Head. Drawing 137 Cuckoo, Yellow-billed, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish 57 Cuckoo, Yellow-billed, Young. Photographed by Edward Van Altena 60 Goldfinch, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by C. William Beebe 65 Goldfinch, Young. Photograph 68 Grosbeak, Rose-breasted, Nest and Eggs. Photograph . 77 Grosbeak, Black-headed. Male feeding young. Photo- graphed by H. T. Bohlman 177 Gull, Herring, On Nest. Photographed by William Dutcher 113 Illustrations PAGE Hawk, Marsh, Nest and Young. Photographed by Alfred Eastgate. 29 Hawk, Sparrow. Drawing by Louis Agassiz Fuertes . . 37 Killdeer, Photographs ........... 91 Kingfisher, Belted, Bill of. Drawing 74 Kingfisher, Belted, Foot of. Drawing ...... 74 Mallard, Young on Clove Valley Preserve 141 Mallard, Adults and Young. Drawing by W. M. Dunk . 144 Martin, Purple, Nesting Box. Photographed by J. Warren Jacobs 49 Martin, Purple, Nesting Gourds. Photographed by Francis Harper 49 Meadowlark’s Nest. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish. . 11 Mourning Dove, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish . 5 Nighthawk, Young. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish. . 1 Nighthawk, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish .............. 1 Oriole, Orchard, Nest. Photograph 165 Osprey, Foot of. Drawing 74 Osprey, Bill of. Drawing. 74 Owl, Barn, Three Young. Photographed by H. T. Bohlman. 53 Owl, Florida Screech. Photograph ....... 43 Owl, Short-eared, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by P. B. Philipp . 45 Plover, Upland, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by H. K. Job 13 Sparrow, Song. Map showing distribution 122 Sparrow, Tree. Photographed by Clarence D. Brown . . 61 Swift, Chimney, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish 195 Tanager, Scarlet, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by B. S. Bowdish .............. 81 Waxwing, Cedar, Adult and Young. Photograph . . . 189 Wren, Carolina, Nest and Eggs. Photographed by Joseph Armfield 197 Wren, House, Bird on Nest. Photographed by F. L. Holts iS3 THE NIGHTHAWK By F. E. L. BEAL The National Association of Audubon Societies Educational Leaflet No. 1 The Nighthawk does not attract attention by either beauty of plu- mage or sweetness of song. It is found over nearly the whole of the United States in summer, but spends its winters in South America. Its name is a misnomer, for except a slight resemblance when on the wing Eggs of the Nighthawk A Young Nighthawk Photographed by Beecher S. Bowdish it is entirely unlike any species of hawk. All the birds of prey are noted for their strong, sharp, hooked beaks, and stout, curved claws — points in which the Nighthawk differs from them notably. It has a curious outward resemblance to the Whip-poor-will, but in habits the two birds are widely different. While more like each other than either is like any other bird, as far as plumage and color are concerned, there is little resemblance in Whip-poor-will their general habits. The Whip-poor-wills fly only after dark, and apparently only in short flights. The Nighthawk, on the contrary, delights in long circling flights during the late afternoon and early evening, as well as during moonlit nights and just before dawn; and at such times it utters its only note, which much resembles the scaip of the Woodcock. The skilful evolutions of a company of Night- hawks, as the birds gracefully cleave the air in intersecting circles, is a sight to be remembered. So expert are they on the wing that no insect is safe from them, even the swift dragon-fly being captured with ease- i The Nighthawk Prairie Perches The bird has a habit, while making these flights, of taking sudden plunges downward, making a quick curve upward when near the ground, at which time is heard a peculiar groaning sound, now known to be made by the rush of the air through the wings ; and it is to this booming that the bird owes its Southern name “Bull-bat.” dooming1 These noises, and its reiterated k-ze-e-et, suggesting the sudden tearing of calico, sometimes annoy light sleepers, especially in towns. When at rest the Nighthawk is usually seen — if seen at all, for its pose and coloring make it then very unnoticeable — squatting on the bare limb of a tree, or on the rail of a fence, where it sits with the body lengthwise of the perch, instead of crosswise, as is the general custom of birds. The writer was engaged in railroad work in the State of Nebraska at the time when that State was mostly a bare, treeless prairie. At that time Nighthawks were very abundant there — in fact, the most abundant of any birds ; but as there were no trees or fences they could perch only on the ground. As soon as the stakes were set for the railroad each was taken possession of by some bird, generally a Sparrow, and occupied all day, although not always by the same bird. When the telegraph-poles were set the small Sparrow Hawks, also an abundant species, at once took possession of each as a con- venient and long-needed lookout from which to watch for ground-squirrels. When the rails were laid on the road-bed the Nighthawks immediately used them as roosting-places, and in the afternoon of each day two long lines of these birds could be seen stretching away in either direction as far as the eye could reach. The Nighthawk does not attach itself to the abodes of man, and render itself agreeable by sprightly manners and pleasing companion- ship, but holds itself aloof from the works of civilization, and brings forth its two young ones upon a flat rock or a bare knoll, remote from human dwellings. To this rule, however, it makes one curious and ad- vantageous exception. In large cities, where most of the buildings are high, with flat roofs, often covered with gravel, the house-tops are usu- ally as free from human intrusion as the top of a mountain ; and the Nighthawks take advantage of this artificial desert to lay their eggs and rear their young safe from man, who crawls about in the crevices of streets far below. Hence, the citizens, even of the House-roofs metropolis itself, constantly see and hear this wild bird circling swiftly above the city’s heat and clamor, its plumage touched brightly by the setting sun. Ihe body of the Nighthawk is much smaller than one would suppose from seeing the bird upon the wing. The long pinions, and the loose, fluffy feathers, tend to give an exaggerated appearance of size. The body is actually so small, and with so little flesh on the loose skeleton, that it is about the last bird one would suppose that anyone would kill for food. The muscles of the breast, which move the long wings, con- National Association of Audubon Societies The Nighthawk 3 stitute the only part where there is much flesh. The legs are small ana weak, and do not appear to have much use, as the muscles that move them are thin and soft. At one point, however, the Nighthawk’s anatomy is fully developed — its stomach is huge for so small a bird, fully equaling, or perhaps exceeding, in capacity that of the Pigeon, whose body is twice as big. It is right here that the Nighthawk’s usefulness appears. This enormous stomach must be kept filled to supply motive power for the long wings which are kept in motion so many hours. To facilitate this work nature has given Yi^MoutlT the bird an enormous mouth, which is really more like that of a frog than of a bird, has short bristles, and is merely tipped with the minute beak. The food consists of insects taken flying, and so greedy is the bird that when food is plenty it stuffs its stomach almost to bursting. To ascertain the character of the food taken, more than three hundred stomachs have been examined by the United States Biological Survey, with interesting results. Flying ants constituted a conspicuous part of the contents, their remains occurring in a large number of cases, once to the amount of 1800! While ants may sometimes be useful to us, they are, for the most part, annoying and harmful insects ; and it is evident that they would be much more numerous than they are were not their ranks so severely thinned by the attacks of the Nighthawks. Moreover, these ants are killed at the most important epoch of their lives, when they are preparing to propagate their kind, so that the death of every female means a loss of hundreds, or perhaps of thousands, to the next gen- eration. In this work the Nighthawks rank next to, Ants*** or even with, the Woodpeckers, the acknowledged ant- eaters among northern birds, and thus become rivals of the Flickers. Grasshoppers are another important article of the Nighthawk’s diet. One stomach contained the remains of 60 of them, probably the refuse of several meals, as the jaws of the insects were the principal remains. Another stomach contained 38, another 22, and still another, 19; these last were mostly entire, and served to show how much the stomach of a Nighthawk might hold. May-beetles, or June-bugs (Lachnosterna) , were found in several stomachs — one held the remains of 34, another 23, and a third 17. The larvae of these beetles are the hated white grubs, one of the worst pests of agriculture. They feed upon the roots of grass and other cul- tivated plants, ruin lawns, and are often the cause of failure in cropping. Other well-known pests destroyed by the Night- hawk are the potato-beetle, cucumber-beetle, chestnut, Beetles Eaten rice, clover-leaf and cotton-boll weevils, bill-bugs, bark-beetles, squash-bugs, and moths of the cotton-worm. Several species of mosquitoes, including Anopheles , the transmitter of malaria, are eaten. The grain-destroying bugs of the chinch-bug family were found in considerable numbers, and also the troublesome leaf-hoppers. Many 4 The Nighthawk Admirable Qualities stomachs were nearly filled with soft-bodied ephemerids and caddis-flies ; and, altogether, more than 600 species of insects have been identified from the stomachs already examined. From these glimpses of the Nighthawk’s food-habits, it must be evi- dent that it is one of our most useful birds. Not only does it do a great amount of positive good by the destruction of enormous numbers of in- sects, but it is to be Commended for its negative qualities, in that it not only does not destroy any of the farmer’s crops, but does not even visit them or use them for nesting-sites. It never touches grain or fruit ; it never troubles the garden ; and in the orchard it only perches upon the branch of an apple-tree. It does not even ask a blade of grass with which to build its nest, for it makes no nest. It does not injure the grass by laying its eggs thereon, for its two, purplish, mottled eggs are laid upon bare earth, or on a rock, or a graveled roof. It does not molest poultry nor the nests of other birds. Indeed, where may we look to find a bird whose direct contact with man and his works is so slight, yet is so constantly in his presence and industriously serving his interests? When we consider that this bird renders so signal a service to man, and asks nothing and takes nothing in return, it seems as if it should have every protection that can be afforded. In some parts of the country the Nighthawk is not only killed for food, but is used as a target for gun- practice on the wing, under the impression that it is a worthless creature. How erroneous this is we have already shown. When we consider that during many hours of the evening, and often all day, these birds sweep the air with their dragnets of mouths, we do not wonder at the enormous number of insects from whose harm or annoyance they relieve us. In view of these facts, the practice of killing this bird, whether for food or for sport, should wholly stop. It is a practice which, at best, affords poor returns, and which entails an almost incalculable injury upon farmers and gardeners, and results in much needless suffering to the birds. Classification and Distribution The Nighthawk belongs to the Order Macro chires, the Suborder Caprimulgi, and the Family Caprimulgidcc — the Nightjars. Its scientific name is Chordeiles virginianus virginianus. It is found in summer from northern Canada southward to the northern part of the Gulf States, and from the Atlantic Coast westward to the plains. Four subspecies, sliehtly varying in size and markings, are recognized by ornithologists. These are Western Nighthawk (C. v. henryi ) ; Florida Night- hawk ( C . v. chapmani ) ; Sennett’s Nighthawk (C. v. sennetti), and Pacific Night- hawk (C. v. he s peris). 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 MOURNING DOVE By T. GILBERT PEARSON The National Association of Audubon Societies Educational Leaflet No. 2 Years ago, before the Audubon Society was formed, I frequently accompanied a local hunter on his trips afield. My business was to retrieve the birds which fell before his double-barreled, muzzle-loading shot-gun, and to carry the shot-pouch and powder-horn whenever the sportsman found it necessary to advance in a stooping attitude while stalking his game. The bird most hunted was the Mourning Dove, and many of these feathered beauties fell before his aim. Nest and Eggs of Mourning Dove Photographed at Deraarest, N. J., by B. S. Bowdish Late one summer evening, I recall, we tramped for two or three miles through the pine-woods to a pond where we had been told the doves came of an evening to drink. Just before sundown they began to arrive. After a busy day passed in the woods and ! fields they came flying in to this small, sequestered ^S^Doves*00 body of water to refresh themselves before sleeping. My companion never shot birds on the wing — that was too difficult ; so, on this occasion, he waited until they had alighted near the pond to drink from one of the little puddles where cows had stepped in the mud. I remember distinctly that he killed only one Dove that evening. I was 6 The Mourning Dove not sent to fetch it at once, for fear that my presence might frighten away the other birds that were coming in. While we waited and watched, a large bullfrog came out of the pond and grasped the dead bird in its mouth. Few things in nature have ever surprised me more. Evidently the frog was attempting to swallow it, and only desisted when I rushed forward with shouts of disapproval. Most of the hunting for Doves was done in the early fall, when they would come in great numbers to the peanut-fields. It was an easy matter to creep along under cover of an old rail-fence, get two or three birds in line, and blaze away. This was a common Dove-slfoots practice in those days, indulged in by thousands of persons in the South, without a thought of wrong- doing, until it was forbidden by recent wise laws. In parts of Georgia and South Carolina large “Dove-shoots” used to take place every autumn. With this sport in view some grain was left standing, or else certain fields were baited by scattering grain over the ground. After a few days the birds were to be seen gathering to the deceptive feast by thousands. Then the hunt was organized, and, rm an Qnnninfprl mnrm no* mantr m Pti anrl hmrc ci i t~rru in rl t=*r\ flip* anrl on an appointed morning, many men and boys surrounded the field and began shooting. All day long the birds were flying in or out of the slaughter-pen, and frequently several thousands were killed before the sun went down. The number killed often far exceeded the local con- sumption, which meant that the surplus bodies were thrown away, or were left for the hogs to eat. There was some excuse for regarding these doves as game, and shooting them in moderation, as their flesh, although dark, is palatable, and a young dove, taken a few weeks after it begins to fly, and nicely cooked, is a delicious morsel. But such slaughter as the “shoots” caused was a criminal waste, and no one can regret their stoppage when he con- siders the very great value these birds are to the farming interests of the country, and particularly to those of the Southern States. Mr. William Dutcher, President of the National Association of Audu- bon Societies, in writing of the feeding-habits of the Mourning Dove, has made the statements that follow: “Is there a farmer in the country who, after a hard day’s work has not wished that some other means could be devised to prevent the rapid growth of noxious weeds, and, at the same time, emancipate him from the sweating brow, the blistered hands, and the aching back? “There is one means of weed-destroying that has been entirely over- 1 looked by the agriculturist, probably because they never seriously con- sidered the food-habits of the Dove. “Recent investigations made by the Biological Survey (United States Department of Agriculture) of the food of the Dove, prove this bird to be of incalculable value. The examination of the contents of 237 stomachs of the Dove shows that more than 99 per cent of its food con- sists wholly of vegetable matter in the shape of seeds ; less than 1 per cent The Farmer’s Helper Order— Columb/E Family — Columbia Genus — Zenaidura Species — Macroura carolinensis National Association of Audubon Societies 7 The Mourning Dove being animal food. Wheat, oats, rye, corn, barley and buckwheat were found in 150 of the stomachs, and constituted 32 per cent of the total food, and three-fourths of this amount was wasted grain, picked up in the fields after the harvesting was over. Of the various grains eaten, wheat is the favorite, and is almost the only one taken when it is in good condition, and most of this was eaten in the months of July and August. Corn, the second in amount, was all damaged grain taken from the fields after the harvest, or from roads or stockyards in summer. “The principal and almost constant diet, however, is the seeds of weeds. These are eaten at all seasons of the year. They constitute 64 per cent of the annual food-supply, and show very little variation during any month. Some of the seeds eaten were so minute that it would seem that none but the smallest species of birds would eat them, and then only when driven to do so by lack of other food. Some instances of the vast numbers of seeds that individual birds consumed will be of interest. In one stomach were found 7,500 seeds of the yellow wood-sorrel ; in another 6,400 seeds of barn-grass or fox-tail; and a third had eaten the following combination: slender joint-grass, 2,600; orange hawkweed, 4,820; hoary vervain, 950; Carolina cranesbill, 120; yellow wood-sorrel, 50; panicum, 620; and other weed-seeds of various Enormous kinds, 40 ; making a total of 9,200. None in the above- Consumption written list is useful, and most of them are noxious. of Weed_seeds “The three Doves in question benefited the farmers, on whose land they fed, by destroying 23,100 prospective weeds. Is there a farmer in this land who would not welcome as a friend the man who would offer to uproot and kill 23,100 weeds? Yet, because the Doves go about silently and unobtrusively, and make no loud boasts about the good they are doing, they are thought of little or no value. In many parts of the country this valuable, harmless and gentle creature is considered a game bird, and is shot during a large part of the year. It is a question for the farmers to settle whether they will permit anyone to kill on their land birds that annually destroy tons of the seeds of pigeon-grass, rag- weed, smartweed, bindweed, and many other noxious plants, and are thus worth so much as helpers on farms. The matter resolves itself into a question of figures, i. e., dollars and cents to the farmers. If three Doves, at one meal, destroy 23,100 weed-seeds, and thus prevent the growth of the same number of prospective weeds, how much good will all the Doves on a farm or in a State, or in the country at large, accomplish? Or, to present the case in another way, how much will it cost in time, labor and actual cash to destroy what the Doves will eat if they are protected and encouraged to remain on the farms? The farmers in the United States spent, in 1899, the enormous sum of $365,305,921 for labor; how much of this was paid for killing weeds, and how much of it could have been saved if no Doves had been killed but all had been protected and permitted to perform the work that the Creator designed them to do? The Dove is far too valuable an auxiliary to the agriculturist to have it classed as a game bird. Its value consists in its weed-destroying activ- ities, and not in the few ounces of food it may furnish.,, 8 The Mourning Dove Name and Habits This really charming bird is one of the earliest to arrive in the North- ern States in spring, and before the leaves are fairly out the plaintive call of the male, which seems so mournful to some ears, is heard floating over the woods. The name Carolina Dove, found in old books, refers to the fact that the first specimens described came from that part of the country. It is sometimes called Turtle Dove, although not very closely allied to the true European Turtle Dove, and may well be known simply as the Dove, now that the Wild Pigeon has become extinct. The nest of the Dove is usually placed on a horizontal limb of some small or medium-sized tree. Occasionally, one may come across it in the crotch where two large limbs meet. Now and then it is situated on an old rail-fence or a stump. In the deserts of Arizona the writer has found the nests on the bare ground, sheltered only by the uncertain foliage of a little greasewood-bush. The eggs are usually two in number, pure white, and elliptical in form. When the parent is disturbed while in attendance on the eggs or young, it will usually drop to the ground and flutter away as if injured, the evident intention of the bird being to dis- tract the attention of the intruder from the nest. It is commonly asserted that the pairs of this Dove remain mated as long as they live, but positive" evidence of this is lacking. The Mourning Dove has sometimes been confused with the Wild, or Passenger Pigeon, especially since the search for possible relics of that lost species has excited so much interest. It is about four inches less in length and seven inches less in spread of wings than was the Wild Pigeon, and has not the blue tint about the head, nor the reddish under- surface of that bird. It never gathers in great flocks Distinctions for nesting-purposes, the small winter flocks breaking up in spring into solitary pairs. On the Pacific coast the Band-tailed Pigeon might be mistaken on first acquaintance for this species, but that bird is larger than the Dove, and has a square-ended tail crossed by a dusky band, and a noticeable white bar on the nape. Its cry, too, is more like the hooting of an owl than the cooing of doves. Classification and Distribution The Mourning Dove belongs to the Order Columba and the Family Columbidce — Pigeons. Its scientific name is Zenaidura macroura carolinensis. This bird breeds in all the southern Canadian provinces and thence southward throughout the United States and Mexico. In winter it occurs from Oregon, Ohio and North Carolina southward to Panama. 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 MEADOWLARK By T. GILBERT PEARSON The National Association of Audubon Societies Educational Leaflet No. 3 Uncle Pauldo' was old, and black, and extremely lazy, but he was most entertaining to a certain boy of nine years who learned from him many things about birds and animals and ‘Varmints/’ One day the boy went to the cotton-field with a message and met Uncle Pauldo at the big dead pine where he had just come for water. As he lifted the water-gourd to his lips, a Meadowlark sang cheerily from the fence a few rods away. “There now/’ exclaimed the old man, “do you know what de OF Fiel’ Lark is hollerin’? You don’t? Unde Pauldo s Well, when he sing dat bird is sayin’ ‘Laziness will kill you.’ ” Perhaps Uncle Pauldo spoke truthfully — I cannot say ; but I do know that all through the years since that day whenever the boy has heard a Meadowlark sending its clear song ringing across the fields, to his ears those are the words it seems to say. Of all the twelve hundred kinds of birds found in North America there are comparatively few whose notes people commonly translate into words. Who, for example, ever heard of a writer trying to state in English language what a Wren says in Wren language, or who will tell us in plain words what a Red-headed Woodpecker is talking about when he shouts to his mate from the old dead limb ? Among those birds, however,, that are popularly supposed to say things one can understand is the Meadowlark, but, as usual, in similar cases all hearers do not agree as to what is the proper translation. Some New England people entertain the idea that the bird sings “Spring o’ the Y-e-a-r !” While there are those in New Jersey to whose ear the song sounds like this : “I see y-o-u-u-u ! You ca-a-a-n’t see me-e-e-e !” Let it be borne in mind that this bird’s song has a distinct quality about it that at once sets it off from the songs of any other denizen of the countryside. This much may be said of it for a cer- tainty, that once heard distinctly it is not probable of^th9^ that one will fail to recall its author the next time its 0 e on^ chime-like whistle comes down on the wind. A young bird-student may at times be puzzled to distinguish between the song of the Red-eyed Vireo and that of the Robin, or may become confused in endeavoring to tell which of the Warblers is singing in the tree-tops near by, but to hear the Meadowlark at his best is to listen to a song that will ever afterward be known to him, 10 The Meadowlark Increase in Numbers Like all singing* birds, so far as my knowledge extends, the musical performances of this inhabitant of the open country begin with the day. At intervals until night the whistling melody continues. There is notice- able variation in the quality of the singing of different birds. Not all men can sing with the same degree of melody, nor can all Meadowlarks. These birds are found from the southern prairie Provinces of Canada southward throughout the United States and into Mexico. They are more numerous, of course, in some regions than in others, but wherever found they are much in evidence, and are always known by the dwellers of the country round about. Few people can pass this yellow-breasted, black-bibbed, loud-singing musician without noticing its presence. The Meadowlark is one of the species of birds that has increased in numbers since the coming of the white man to America. Vast areas of our country, particularly in the Eastern and Southern States, were originally covered with heavy forests. The Meadowlark, being a bird of open lands, was therefore restricted to the comparatively few prairies that then existed. These conditions began to change as soon as the settlers commenced fell- ing the forest trees, and as fields and meadows appeared Meadowlarks began to increase. If you want to find a Meadowlark’s nest you must look for it on the ground. It is usually made entirely of dead grasses, although at times i a thin lining of horsehair is added. Most of the nests I have examined ! possessed a dome-shaped roof of grass, thus allowing inspection from one side only. This snug little house is hid under the edge of a clump i of grass or weeds. Sometimes one finds it in a field of corn, or concealed by a stump around which grass is growing, or elsewhere protected by an i overhanging grassy clod left unbroken at the spring plowing. It is something of an adventure to find one of these stationary cradles built for the comfort of the wee Larks to come. Usually it is discovered quite by accident as one pursues his way across a meadow or field. So closely do the colors of the feathers on the head and back of the bird resemble its surroundings that if it could restrain its fear one might pass within a foot of the spot with small chance of discovering the secret. The bird seems to be conscious of this fact, and often will permit one al- most to step on it before fluttering away. One day, after a forenoon spent in a marsh with two other bird-lovers, we came out on the dry meadowland for lunch. After spending half an hour lunching and lounging on the ground we rose to go, when suddenly up flew a Meadowlark from her nest with its five speckled eggs not over twelve feet from where our lunch had been spread. There she had been sitting all that time, and probably would not have moved when she did had I not stepped within a foot of her hiding-place. It is a very discouraging task to attempt to find a Meadowlark’s nest by watching the birds go to it, for the reason that when one of them [wishes to approach the spot, it alights on the ground many yards away Home Well Hidden MEADOWLARK Family — Icterid^ Species — magna Order— Passeres Genus — Sturn ella National Association of Audubon Societies The Meadowlark 11 and walks quietly through the grass to its destination. Ordinarily it leaves its home in the same careful manner. Certain well-defined paths of travel may often be noted radiating from the nest. There is a great difference in the length of time that the young of various birds stay in the nest. Baby Ducks, Ouails, Killdeers, and Pheas- ants, as examples, can run about within a few hours after being hatched. It seems that about all one of these little fellows needs to do before start- ing in the race of life is to wait until his coat has dried and his small A MEADOWLARK’S NEST brothers and sisters have kicked themselves free from their shells. The nest is useful as long as he is an egg, but when he becomes a bird he must up and away at once. But how different all this is with a tiny Meadowlark, who' comes into the world weak and helpless ! Close to two weeks’ time must pass before it is strong enough to follow its mother out aipong the waving* grass-clumps and the towering weeds. Late in the summer the birds assemble and in more or less straggling* companies go foraging about over the fields. Sometimes one may find only half a dozen together, but in crossing meadows I have at times seen fifty or a hundred at a time. They do not fly in compact flocks like Blackbirds, nor do all the members of a company spring into the air at 12 The Meadowlark once as is the custom with Quails. Their flight is leisurely and rather slow, which renders them an easy mark for the amateur gunner. In many States Meadowlarks are protected by law, but over con- £ siderable areas of the southern part of our country the birds are still on their bodies. How can anyone enjoy shooting the life out of one of these beautiful guardians of the meadow ? Think how devoid of all the finer feelings a man or boy must be who can experience a thrill dubon Society in this country to-day there is one who, when he becomes a man, will shoot a Meadowlark. Quite aside from the beauty of its song and of its plumage, this bird by eating insects and weed-seeds is helping every farmer and gardener to raise his crops. Meadowlarks do extremely little damage to fruit or grain, and in many parts of the country they are never accused of doing any harm whatever. Now and then some of them get a few grains of corn or wheat, but they pay for this a thousand fold by the good services they render to the man who' is trying to1 raise the corn or wheat. Out on the plains of the far West, and along the Pacific Coast, there is found the Western Meadowlark. In appearance it closely resembles the eastern bird of the same name, but it is a far more famous singer. At times it appears to possess the wonderful powers of the ventriloquist. I remember one morning in northeastern California when I vainly sought to see one of these birds, that sounded as though its song might be coming from some stake along a fence two' hundred feet away. With my field-glass I swept the fence from right to left and back again. larks often come into towns, and there make themselves quite at home. The first one I ever heard singing, indeed, was in a city, the city of San Diego, California. For ten minutes I harkened to its song as it stood on a telephone-pole, and all the while hundreds of people were passing. The Meadowlark belongs to the Order Passer es, Suborder O seines and Family Icteridce. Its scientific name is Sturnella magna magna. Three geographical races are recognized in the United States, in addition to the eastern bird : Rio Grande Meadowlark ( Sturnella hoopesi) ; Southern Meadowlark ( Sturnella m. argutula ) ; and Western Meadowlark ( Sturnella m. neglecta). The Meadowlark breeds throughout the United States, in southern Ontario, and northwestward to the Saskatchewan Valley; and it winters wherever cold and snowfall are not severe. persistently shot for sport and for the small morsel of flesh to be found Not a Game-bird of pleasure in seeing a song-bird fall torn and bleed- ing to the earth. I refuse to believe that of all the hundreds of thousands of Junior members of the Au- Over and over I did this, searching for the splendid musician whose song sounded again and again in the clear air; and then by accident I discovered the bird standing on a bush not twenty feet from me. These Western Meadow- Classification and Distribution 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 UPLAND PLOVER By EDWARD HOWE FORBUSH The National Association of Audubon Societies Educational Leaflet No. 4 This lovely, dove-like bird, although really a Sandpiper, has become so widely and generally known as a Plover that the wise men of the American Ornithologists’ Union have ceased to use the early book- j name, Bartram’s, or the Bartramian, Sandpiper, and have adopted the popular name Upland Plover. It is known also in various parts of the country as the Grass, Field, Highland, Pasture, Plain, Cornfield, and NEST AND EGGS OF UPLAND PLOVER Photographed by Herbert K. Job Gray Plover. In the West it is named Prairie Pigeon, Prairie Snipe, Meadow Plover and Whistling Plover. It has not the short neck and legs, and the short pigeon-like bill of a true plover, and it has four toes, where the typical plover has three ; still, it resembles a plover somewhat in form and habits, and frequents localities where formerly the Golden Plover was abundant. Years ago, when spring greenery began to dress the hillsides, we listened for the call of the Upland Plover. In sweet May nights, when the gentle south wind blew, we Flights harked for the wing-beats and call-notes indicating the northward night-flight, some sounding faint and high in the dark dome, others just above the tree-tops.. All the dim strata of the air were laden with swift, winged shapes, passing unseen as the great flood of bird-life surged ever northward through the dewy gloom. Above all other sounds came again and again the whistle of the Tatlers; and the wild Plover’s call, now near, now far, fell through the spaces of the starlit night, soft, rich, and sweet to the listening ear. The Upland Plover was the only large wader commonly seen on 13 14 The Upland Plover farms throughout the greater part of the land during the breeding-season. It was a bird of good omen, harmless and useful, and, as Abbott Thayer says, it filled a place on American farms similar to that taken by the Lapwing in Europe. We must speak here in the past tense, because, unfortunately, the bird to-day is far on the road to extinction. Never- theless, the pitiful remnants of its thinning ranks still wander over most of North and South America. Most of the cries of the Upland Plover are unique. A common call-note may be represented by the words quitty-quit, uttered in a soft, sweet tone. Late in May a long, bubbling whistle may be heard, some- times weird and mournful, though always mellow. Professor Lynds Jones, who furnishes the best de- Voice scription of its voice that I have seen, says that its common rolling call is not unlike the cry of a “tree- toad,” hut of a different and unmistakable quality and caliber. The note, he remarks, is commonly double, the first part rising upward nearly half an octave and terminating abruptly, the second part beginning where the first began, swelling rapidly for almost, if not quite, an octave, and then decreasing in volume to a close several tones higher than its beginning. The long whistling cry is usually trilled at the begin- ning, and sometimes to the end, but oftener it grows clear before the culmination and continues a clear whistle to the finish. Sometimes the whistled part is not reached and the call stops as if interrupted. Often, upon alighting, the bird holds its wings straight upward, folding them slowly down as it utters its long, mellow call. As the breeding-season passes, gome of the notes change, and in autumn, when it comes in and alights on a hill-pasture to feed, it emits a chuckling call, an imitation of which is used by gunners to attract the birds. Ordinarily most of its notes are given in flight. When alarmed it has a peculiar sharp call, much like that of some others of its family. The Upland Plover formerly summered in the northern parts of the United States and built its nest in every suitable grassy spot from the Atlantic Ocean to the Rocky Mountains. The eggs, usually four, large for the bird (i inch in diameter to 1.75 inches, or more, in length), are pale gray, spotted with umber, yellowish brown, reddish brown, and black, becoming blotchy toward the larger end. The nest is merely a slight grass-lined depression at the foot of a small bush on a hill-pasture or a prairie, or in a hollow in plowed land, and usually is well concealed. In the West, it is often situated on the edge of the woods or close to some slough or pool, sometimes on a dry spot in a marsh. As the prairies came under the plow the Plover often chooses as her nesting-site a hill of corn. The female sits so closely sometimes as to be almost trodden underfoot, while the male tries to entice the intruder away. When warned in advance of her danger, the female often leaves the nest and steals away through the grass for thirty or forty yards before taking wing. Nest and Eggs Order — Limicolje Genus — Bartramia F amily — Sco lo pac i Sped es — Lo ngi cauda National Association of Audubon Societies The Upland Plover 15 The downy young are hatched in June, and take to their legs at once, running quickly about, tender and timid. Curious, unbalanced, fluffy little things they are, with legs disproportionately large and long, like those of a little calf, or of a fawn or a colt. Throughout the early summer they dwell in the grass-land in security, feeding largely on insects and wild strawberries. Their anxious parents lead them .about and sound the alarm at the approach of an enemy, when the little ones scatter, squat and hide. In July, when the hay is cut, they are well able to look out for themselves, although they Care of have not yet learned fully to fear the sportsman. Long years ago, when August came it brought a .great , gathering of the Upland Plover clan. The young birds were then strong on the wing, and all the hill-pastures knew them well in grasshopper time. As the spring tide of birds flowed northward, so the fall . tide ebbed southward, but there was a difference in the route. The spring migration appeared to come up through the interior of South America, . crossing the Gulf of Mexico, landing in Louisiana and Texas, and diverging thence over the whole- country ; but in autumn the trend of the eastern flight seems to have been southeast to the Atlantic Coast, where the birds put out to sea and crossed the great spaces of ocean without . chart or compass. Some individuals still take the western route through Mexico, and all spend the winter in South America. In feeding, the Plover, even when in the greatest ^Diet^ numbers, appears to have been entirely harmless and beneficial. In spring the insect-diet was varied somewhat by a few -nips at tender, budding vegetation. A good deal of waste grain was, picked up in the stubble of wheat and rye in the fall, and quantities of grass- seeds and weed-seeds, and some wild berries, were eaten. Thelbird is a gourmand for grasshoppers, locusts and crickets. Professor Aughey, who studied the habits of the species in Nebraska for several years previous to 1877, found that they fed on insects during all the time they stayed in that State. Waldo L. McAtee, of the Biological Survey, shows, as a- result of many examinations of the contents of stomachs, that the Upland Plover is a friend to cattle, because it devours the North American fever tick, which carries a deadly fever from one animal to another. He says that it destroys crane-fly larvae also, which often are seriously destructive to grass-lands and wheatfields ; cutworms, which are Noxious detrimental to many crops ; the boll-weevil, which Insects now menaces the cotton-crop of the South ; the clover- Eaten leaf weevil, the cow-pea weevil, and other weevils that attack cotton, grapes, and sugar-beets. Bill-bugs, destructive to corn, are a favorite food of this bird, and wire-worms, which destroy many garden-crops, are eaten. Crayfishes, which are pests in ricefields arid ^cornfields in the South, and which injure levees, are constantly caught and devoured. On the prairies these Plovers feed largely on snails, beetles, and grass- eating insects. Why, then, have the people of the ' United States 16 The Upland Plover allowed the destruction of this beautiful, interesting and useful bird? When the white man came to this country the Upland Plover must have been a rare bird east of the prairies in the nesting season, as it normally lives on open lands, and the Atlantic seaboard was then a wooded region ; but, as the country was cleared, and fields and pastures took the place of the wilderness of forests, the bird must have increased tremendously in numbers until it bred commonly in Explained sett^e(l regions of the Northeast. The advance of population and of market-hunting, however, put a stop to its increase, and then its decrease began. Although for years laws protecting the Upland Plover had been enacted in several States, these statutes rarely were enforced, and the birds were shot for the market in spring and throughout the breeding- season. About the year 1880, when approaching extinction caused the spring supply of Passenger Pigeons in market to fail, the market-men looked about for birds to take the vacant place, and found, among others, the Upland Plover, which moved north through the interior of the United States, and offered them a large supply of dainty bird-flesh. There were tales of organized hunting, of cars loaded with various plovers, of the raiding of State after State by thousands of hunters in the interest of the great markets. Probably these stories were exag- gerated, but we know that barrels of plovers began to come into the larger cities of the country in dozens and hundreds. A few years later the Upland Plover was seen to be rapidly disappearing; and by 1910 the bird was rare or wanting over nearly all the great region where once it was so plentiful. The threatened extermination was checked by the adoption and en- forcement of the Audubon Model Law in various Western and Middle States ; and more lately by the passage of Federal laws, especially the Migratory-Bird Law, enacted under the guidance of Protection Senator George P. McLean, of Connecticut, in 1913. Canada, also, has extended more efficient protection than formerly to this and related birds of her prairie provinces in the Northwest. It may be hoped, therefore, that a few years hence this beautiful, useful, and friendly bird may become again a numerous and welcome visitor to the prairies and farmsteads of our land, as it will do if not mercilessly shot and robbed of its eggs. Classification and Distribution The Upland Plover belongs to the order Limicolce and the Family Scolopacidce. Its scientific name is Bartramia longicauda . It breeds locally as far north as the upper Yukon and North-Saskatchewan valleys, Manitoba, southern Ontario, and Maine ; as far south as the Potomac and Ohio valleys, and Oklahoma ; and westward to the base of the Sierra Nevada. Its winters are spent on the pampas of Argentina, its migrations thus carrying it, as a species, nearly the whole length of the two Americas. 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 FLICKER By T. GILBERT PEARSON The National Association of Audubon Societies Educational Leaflet No. 5 One of the first birds with which the student in most States is likely to become acquainted is the Flicker, although it may not always be known by that name. In the Ohio Valley it is sometimes called High-holder; many persons in New England know it as the Golden-winged Wood- pecker; at Cape Hatteras the only name it is ever called is Wilcrissen ; and in Florida I have heard boys refer to it as the Yocker-bird. More people probably know it as the Yellowhammer, however, than by any other of its seventy or more local names. Few, indeed, must be those who have not made the acquaintance Many Names of this bright bird, which everywhere is so much in evidence both to the eye and to the ear, and everywhere is so friendly. The Flicker is the largest of our common woodpeckers, and has a more marked individuality than any of them. It does the most uncon- ventional, unheard of things, which no other woodpecker would think of doing. It seems to be possessed with a strong curiosity, and is for- ever longing to look into places where you would never think it had any real business. Frequently it will go into barns, or more especially de- serted houses, and fly about exploring every nook and cranny, but for what it is hunting on such occasions I have never been able to determine. Some years ago, in a rural community which had the distinction of possessing a haunted house, I went to the abandoned farm where stood the building regarded with so much local interest. We climbed in through a front window and cautiously tip-toed to the kitchen. Apparently there was no doubt that a ghost was in the loft even then, for we could hear strange noises through the thin ceiling. I stationed my companion on the outside where he could watch the open window, and going to the loft opened a small door leading into the room over the kitchen. On a joist stood a large Flicker, much astonished at my intru- sion. A moment later he sprang through the open A Bird-Ghost window and went bounding down the hill to a dead chestnut, from a limb of which he shouted for several minutes before flying on to the woods. On Roanoke Island, North Carolina, is a church with four large, hollow, wooden pillars supporting the veranda. Should you go there, you would find that these pillars are perforated with not less than twenty holes big enough for the entrance of a Flicker’s body. The persons who take care of the building have sometimes nailed pieces of tin over these holes dug by the Flickers, and whenever this was done the birds im- 17 18 The Flicker Wild Berries Eaten mediately proceeded to make new ones. They have also cut holes through the weather-boarding under the eaves, and have been known to enter the church and fly about among the rafters when services were being held. Woodpeckers as a family secure their living chiefly by examining the bark of trees or picking into decayed wood, but the Flicker, which has its own way of doing things, seldom looks in such places for food. When it is hungry, you will usually find it on the ground hopping along in the grass or disturbing the fallen leaves in the woods. It eats beetles, moths, butterflies and a variety of other insects. Now and then it takes a little fruit as dessert, most of which comes from trees not cultivated for human food. Some of the fruits it eats are: Choke-cherry, wild black cherry, elder, dogwood, hackberry, Virginia creeper, sumac, poison-ivy, black- berry, blueberry, huckleberry, wild grape, cedarberry and persimmons. Of all the list of things that nature has provided so abundantly for the food of wild birds the Flicker likes nothing so well as ants. These he gets by tearing up their hills with his bill. This operation, of course, excites the ants very much, and when he begins his work of destroying their little, circular, funnel-shaped fortifications the word is quickly carried down through the intricate tunnels beneath the surface that some- thing terrible is happening. Out rush the ants to see what is the dis- turbance, and there stands the Flicker ready to seize them with its long tongue, which is shooting out continually for the purpose. Ants make up more than half of everything the Flicker eats. Be- cause of this fact alone, everybody ought to feel kindly disposed toward this bird, for ants are universally regarded as a decided nuisance. In some parts of the country long lines of ants may be seen any day march- ing in under the kitchen-door and carrying off fragments of food. In those regions they give the farmer’s wife no end of trouble. Ants do Harm Done damage in a more pronounced way than this. Prof, by Ants John H. Comstock, the noted entomologist, has this to say about ants in his Manual of the Study of Insects : “Writers long ago showed that ants protect plant-lice by driving away from them ladybugs and other enemies. Recently, however, Pro- fessor Forbes demonstrated that, in certain cases at least, a more impor- tant service is rendered. In his studies of the corn plant-louse, he found that this species winters in the wingless form in the earth of previously infested corn-fields, and that in the spring the plant-lice are strictly de- pendent upon a species of ant, which mines along the principal roots of the corn, collects the plant-lice, and conveys them into these burrows and there watches and protects them. Without the aid of these ants, the plant-lice were unable to reach the roots of the corn. Ants take very good care of their cattle (aphids), and will carry them to new pastures if the old ones dry up. They also carry the aphids’ eggs into their nests and keep them sheltered during the winter, and then carry the young plant-lice out and put them on plants in the spring.” FLICKER Order— Pici Family— Picid^e Genus— Colaptes Species— auratus National Association of Audubon Societies The Flicker 19 Plant-lice do great damage to vegetation, and as ants care for the plant-lice, because they like the honey-dew which the plant-lice produce, it is easy to see that the ant is an enemy to some of our valuable crops ; knowing these facts we may understand clearly how the Flicker renders us a distinct service by reducing the number of ants. All woodpeckers lay their eggs in holes, which they excavate in trees for the purpose. The Flicker is no exception to this rule, for although it has wandered far afield in some other habits, it has not yet lost the instinct inherited from thousands of years of ancestors to dig a hole for its nest in the limb or body of some dead tree. Now and then you will find the nest in an old snag in the forest far away from the homes of men ; again you may come across it in a tall dead stump left standing in a corn-field or a cotton-field. I recall a pair that for three years in succession made their home in the dead upright limb of a locust-tree that stood beside a path along which Nest-holes at least two or three hundred persons passed daily. They come into the towns and dig their holes in telephone-poles. They have also been known to dig through the weather-boarding of ice-houses and lay their eggs in a cavity in the sawdust beyond. Almost any summer day you may see Flickers in the larger parks of New York City. Give them a place where they can get food and rear their young in comparative safety, and there you are pretty sure to find this fine bird. Some persons have even succeeded in getting more of them to come and live on their estates by placing artificial nesting-holes where the woodpeckers would be likely to occupy them. The eggs are pure white and usually range in number from four to six. Many birds will desert their nests when disturbed, especially if some of the eggs are removed. The Flicker will not always do so. The bird should not be robbed of its eggs, of course, but this will sometimes happen, and then the mother-bird tries hard to make the best of it. I knew a naturalist some years ago who found a Flicker’s nest containing three freshly laid eggs, two of which he took. Going back the next day, he found that the bird had laid another egg; he took this, and continued to do this day after day and the bird went right on ^ ^ laying, just as a domestic hen does when its eggs are Young taken. In thirty-three days that Flicker had laid thirty-one eggs. There is another record of seventy-one eggs in seventy- three days. One of the most unprepossessing objects in the world is a young Flicker from the moment it is hatched until the feathers begin to appear many days later. Most young creatures are attractive. A baby rabbit makes a wonderfully strong appeal to the appreciative mind — so does a little chicken or a duckling. The impulse at sight of a young quail in its soft, downy coat is to pick it up and caress it. But who could love a baby Flicker? It is absolutely naked, the skin is slack and wrinkled, and the body has no semblance to the beautiful proportions it will later assume. 20 The Flicker Of course the parents love their offspring, and are very attentive to them, for, like other young birds, they must be fed frequently to be kept in good condition. The Flicker must be popular with some of the other birds of the country, if wild birds ever really feel gratification from benefits they derive through the activities of another bird. Sparrow Hawks and Screech Owls choose the hollows of trees in which to rear their young In many places they would have a hard time indeed to find suitable nest- ing cavities were it not for the fact that, after some search, they usually discover an abandoned Flicker’s nest, which so well suits their needs. As the Flicker usually digs a new hole every year, it means that a consider- able number of convenient nesting-places are left for other birds that like to use such sites. Now and then we find even Bluebirds nesting in Flicker holes. Down in the pine-barrens skirting the Everglades of southern Florida, the writer recently came to a place where five or six pine-trees had been killed, possibly by a heavy thunderbolt. A pair of New Tenants Flickers had once dug a nest in the side of one of these trees. The next year, liking the locality, they made another excavation in which they doubtless reared their young. This year they occupied their third hole, which contained young large enough to look out of the entrance and receive there the food their parents brought. One of the abandoned holes had been appropriated this spring by a Florida Grackle ; and climbing up the dead tree I saw her young in the nest. Into the other unused hole Purple Martins were carrying nesting-materials. Another pair of Martins were anxious to nest in the neighborhood of their friends. With fragments of grass and leaves in her bill, the female would fly up to the Flicker’s occupied nest, evidently with a view to taking possession of it. At the moment she alighted a young Flicker would thrust its bill out in her face and beg for food. For some time I watched the discomfort of these birds, and am still wondering what was the final outcome. Classification and Distribution The Flicker belongs to the Order Pici, the Family Picidce, and the Genus Colaptes. Its scientific name is Colaptes auratus auratus. It is found in eastern North America, from the coast of the Gulf, of Mexico northward through the United States and Canada until the tree-limit is reached. One subspecies is recog- nized— the Northern Flicker (C.