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I 


I 


FOR  THE  PEOPLE 

FOR  EDVCATION 

FOR  SCIENCE 

LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  AMERICAN  MUSEUM 

OF 

NATURAL  HISTORY 


i 


(BIRDS  AND  NATURE 


IN  NATURAL  COLORS 


A  NEW  EDITION 

PAGE  PLATES  OF  FORTY-EIGHT  COMMON  BIRDS  BY 
COLOR  PHOTOGRAPHY 

A  GUIDE  IN  THE  STUDY  OF  BIRDS  AND  THEIR  HABITS 


VOLUME  V 

COMPLETE  IN  FIVE  VOLUMES  WITH  240  PAGE  PLATES  IN  COLORS. 

BEING  A  SCIENTIFIC  AND  POPULAR  TREATISE  ON 

FOUR  HUNDRED  BIRDS  OF  THE  UNITED 

STATES  AND  CANADA 


CHICAGO 

A.  W.  MUMFORD.  Publisher 

536  S.  CLARK  ST. 


COPYRIGHT,  1914,  BY  A.  W.  MUMFORD. 


IMPEYAN   PHEASANT. 

(I^iiphophorus  impeyanus) 

-  5  Life-size. 


The  Impeyan   Pheasant  {Lopiwphonts  impcyanus) 

By  I.  N.  Mitchell 

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

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

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

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

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

related  forms. 

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

771 


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

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


Winter  Birds 

By  S.  S.  M. 

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

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

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

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

772 


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

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

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

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

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

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


77Z 


The    Lark    Sparrow    {Chondestes  grammacus) 

By  W.  Leon  Wawson 

Synonym. — Quail-head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

774 


585 


LARK  SPAKKOW 
About  Life-size. 


COPTRIGMT     1903,    St    A.     W.    MUMFORO,    CHICAGO 


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

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


Our  Rose-Breasted   Grosbeak 

By  Edward  B.  Clark 

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

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

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

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

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

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

77  T> 


The  White-Tailed  Ptarmigan  {Lagopus  leucurus) 

By  C.  Hart  Merriam 

Length :    14  inches. 

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

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

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

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

776 


0>0 


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


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

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

777 


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

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


The  Sea  Gulls 

By  Elizabeth  E.  Elliott 

WhirHng  and  dipping  with  stately  wings. 

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

All  ready  to  pounce  on  their  prey. 

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

Now  resting  lazily  in  mid-air, 

And  now  dashing  to  depths  below. 

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

Now  after  battling  with  fiercest  gales, 

On  the  stern  rock-bound  coast  they  rest. 

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

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

Echoes  their  wild,  discordant  screech. 


778 


The  Meadow   Lark 

By  Evely  Phinney 

1  heard  a  Lark  in  tlir  incatlow  >ing  : 

"Life  soon  passes !" 

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

I  saw  hini.  jubilant,  afar — 

Wind-swept  rover — 

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

Such  sky,  such  scent,  such  plains  of  air! 

Such  waters  flowing ! 

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

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

What  longed  to-morrow, 

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

I  watched  him  and  I  pondered  long. 

On  my  ear  beating. 

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

What  hope,  what  rapture  in  that  strain ! 

Like  flaming  fire 

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

I  mounted,  at  heaven's  gate  to  cling. 

"Life  soon  passes !" 

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

— Atlantic  Monthlv. 


779 


The  California  Towhee  {PipUo  cnssaUs) 

By  Joseph  Grinnell 

Length :     7^^  inches. 

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

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

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

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


780 


3r 


e  O 


r'  = 


m'  Q    H 


California    RrOU'n   Tovvhee  (PipHocrissalis  und  varieties) 

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

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

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

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


Birds'  Christmas 

Why  not  make  a  Christmas  present 

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

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

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

While  the  merry  chickadee 
May  be  made  supremely  happy 

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

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

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

Some  such  present  for  the  birds. 

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


781 


Return  of  the  Birds 

By  Melicent  Eno  Humason 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

782 


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

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


Night-Flying  Birds 


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

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

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

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

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


783 


The   House  Finch   {Carpodacus  Mexkanus  frontalis) 

By  S.  Waldo  Bailey 

Length:     About  5^  inches. 

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

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

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

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

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


784 


625 


HOUSE  FINCH, 

fCarpodacus  ^lexlcanu!^  frontalis.) 

About  i  Life-si^e. 


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


A  Few  of  the  Bird  Family 

The  Ukl  iJob  White,  and  chijjhird  ; 

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

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

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

The  \cllowbird  and  rcdbird. 

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

The  rest's  all  pickin'  at ! 

The  jay-bird  and  the  bluebird. 

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

And  our  old  settin'  hen  ! 


James  irititcomb  Riley. 


Blue    Goose  (Choi  cacndescens) 

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

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

785 


J.  he    rvOacl    IvUnner    (Geococcyx  Calijomianus) 

By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

Length  :     About  20  inches. 

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

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

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

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

786 


■    2.  rn 


m 


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

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

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

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


Maryland  Yellovvthroats 

By  Melicent  Eno  Humason 

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

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

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

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

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

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


787 


Double-Crested  Cormorant  {Phaiacrocorax  auHtus) 

By  Lynds  Jones 

Length  :     30  to  32  inches. 

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

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

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

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


788 


602 


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


rOHD,  CHICAGO 


Russet-Backed   Thrush   iiiyiondihi  nstiiiata) 

Length :   7j4  inches. 

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

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

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


Black  Flycatcher;  Phainopepla  iPhaiuopepia  nitens) 

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

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

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

789 


King    Elder    {Somaterla  spectabilis) 

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

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

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


The  Little  Brown  Wren 

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

And  a  foot  of  a  very  diminutive  size ; 

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

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

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

To  tell  of  the  voice  of  the  little  brown  wren. 

— Clinton  Holland. 


790 


Golden     Plo\'er   (Cluinuirins  dominiciis  douiininis) 

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

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


The  Echo  in  the  Heart 


It's  little  I  can  tell  -    » 

About  the  birds  in  books ; 

And  yet  I  know  them  well. 

By  their  music  and  their  looks. 

When  ^lay  comes  down  the  lane, 

Her  airy  lovers  throng 

To  welcome  her  with  song, 

And  follow  in  her  train ; 

Each    minstrel   weaves   his   part 

In  that  wild-flowery  strain, 

And  I  know  thctn  all  again 

By  their  echo  in  my  heart. 

— Hcnr\  Van  Dxke. 


791 


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

■Length  :     About  45  inches. 

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

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

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


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

Longfellow. 


792 


^ 


^^ 


^ 


^ 


rnOM  coi..  CMi.  acao.  sciences. 


644 


CASSOWARY. 

(Casuarius  i;aleatus). 

i  Life-size. 


COPrRfSHT   U04,    BY   A.    w.    MUMFORO,  CMIOCO 


Labrador    Duck   {CumptorhyudiHs  lahnidor'ms) 

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

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

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


793 


Our  Comrade  the  Robin 

By  Joseph  Grinnell 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

794 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

795 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

796 


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

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

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

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

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

707 


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

"What  is  luck,  father?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

798 


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

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

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

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


The  Bluebird 

Alexander   Wilson 

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

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

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

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

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

799 


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

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

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


800 


"The  Sparrow'' 

By  Thomas  Guiiian 

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

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

You  only  sputter. 
Cantankerous  and  savage,  a  combative 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Most  humble. 
Aristocratic  you  can  never  be 

Among  your  kind. 
When  all  the  nabobs  go  south  you 

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

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

Suit  of  blue. 
With  graceful  flight  he  soars  where  purest 

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

Hop.  on  the  ground. 
Persistence  in  claiming 

"You  are  it." 

801 


I  love  the  feathered  tribe  entire,  though  it  is 

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

What  you  do. 


The  Everglade  Kite  {Rostrhamus  sociaUUs) 
By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

Length:    About  18  inches. 

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

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

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

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

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


802 


-^ 


507 


EVERGL.AUK  Kl  IK 

(Rostrhamus  sociabilis). 

-  I.  Life-size. 


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


The  Beginning  of  Housekeeping  and  Where 
to  Look  For  the  Nests 

By  Clara  Kern  Bayliss 

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

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

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

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

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

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

803 


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

Evergreen  tree:    Bronzed  Grackle,  Kinglet,  several  Warblers. 

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

Floating  raft  nest:    Grebes. 

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

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

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

In  burrowed  banks:    Kingfisher,  Bank  Swallow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

804 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


805 


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

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

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

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

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

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

806 


561 


BEWICK'S  WREN. 

(Thryothorus  bewickii). 

Life-size 


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


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

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


The  Robin's  Counsel 

By  Millie  Noel  Long 

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

"Cheer  ye !  cheer  ye ! 

Hear  me !  hear  me ! 

"I  have  traveled  fast  and  far, 

I  have  braved  the  storm-cloud's  power, 

Met  new  dangers  every  hour, — 

Cheer  ye  !  cheer  ye  ! 

Hear  ye  !  hear  ye  ! 

"Kept  by  God's  almighty  power, 

Heeding  duty  every  hour. 

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

Hear  ye  !  hear  ye  ! 

Cheer  ye  !  cheer  ye  !" 

807 


The  Cost  of  a  Feather 

By  Mrs.  Mary  Smith  Riley 

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

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

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

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

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

808 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

809 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

810 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

811 


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

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

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

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

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


Clarke's  Nutcracker  {Nucijroga  coiumbiana) 

By  Amos  W.  Butler 

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

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

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

812 


580 


CLARKE'S   NUTCRACKER. 

(Nucifraga  columbiana) 

About  H  Life-size. 


The  California  VVoodpecker 

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

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

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

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

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

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


813 


The  Green  Woodpecker  {Picus  viridus) 

By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

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

— Robert  Mudie. 

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

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

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

The  sky-lark  in  ecstacy  sang  from  a  cloud, 

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

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

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

814 


596 


(-tRKEN  WOODPECKKR   (EurupH 

(Picus  viridis). 

About  ■•  6  Life-size  . 


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

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

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

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


815 


The  Harris's  Sparrow   {ZonotricMa  querula) 

By  I.  N.  MitcheU 

Length :   7^  inches. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

816 


5oo 


HARRIS'S  SPARROW. 

(Zonotnchia  querula). 

Life-sizp. 


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


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

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

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

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

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


S17 


The  Bush -Tit  {Psaltrlparus  minimus) 

By  F.  E.  L.  Beal 

Length:  Zyi  inches. 

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

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

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

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

818 


BUSH-TIT. 

(Psaltriparns  mi  minus;. 

I-ife-sjze. 


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

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


The  Habit  of  the  American 

Goldfinch  {Spinus  tnstis) 
By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

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

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

"No,  what  was  it?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

820 


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

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


The  Return  of  the  Birds 

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

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

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

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

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


821 


The  Philippine  Sun -Bird  {CinnyHs  juguians) 

By  Thomas  S.  Roberts 

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

— Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  "Nature." 

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

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


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

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

822 


.M.{ 


PHILIPPINE  YELLOW-BREASTED  SUN-BIRD. 

(Cinnyris  jugularis). 

Life-size. 


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

Sonic  Hy  soft  as  a  lon^,  low  sigh : 

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

I'ly.  — SwiNBiRNE. 

'J 

Our  Skylark 

By  Edward  B.  Clark 

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

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

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

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

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

Leave  to  the  nightingale  her  shady  wood ; 

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

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

823 


Shelley  writes : 

With  thy  clear,  keen  joyance 

Langour  cannot  be ; 
Shadow  of  annoyance 

Never  came  to  thee ; 

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

Waking  or  asleep, 

Thou  of  death  must  deem 
Things  more  true  and  deep 

Than  we  mortals  dream, 

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

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

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


To  the  Robin 

By  Grace  W.  Ballard 

An  early  herald  of  the  Spring, 

With  russet  breast  and  glossy  wing. 

Is  at  my  door.    O !  Robin,  dear, 

How  sweet  your  song  of  "Cheer  up,  cheer. 

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

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

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

824 


Friends  of  Our  Forests 

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE  WARBLER  FAMILY 

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

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

825 


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

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

HAUNTS  OF  WOOD  WARBLERS 

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

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

WARBLERS  AS   SONGSTERS 

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

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

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

826 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

827 


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

But  the  night  is  fair, 

And  everywhere 

A  warm,  soft  vapor  fills  the  air, 

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

Through  the  dewy  atmosphere. 

I  hear  the  beat 

Of  their  pinions  fleet. 

As  from  the  land  of  snow  and  sleet 

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

But  their  forms  I  cannot  see. 

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

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

FLOCKING  OF   SMALL  BIRDS 

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

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

828 


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

WHAT    MYSTERIOUS   SENSE  GUIDES   TIIFCM    IN    TIIKIR   LONG   JOURNEYS? 

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

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

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

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

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

WHY  WARBLERS  MIGRATE 

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

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

829 


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

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

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

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

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

VAST   NUMBERS    SUCCUMB 

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

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

830 


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

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

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

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

ECONOMIC  VALUE  OF   WAKBLERS 

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

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

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

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

831 


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

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

MEANS  OF  INCREASING  THE  NUMBER  OF  WARBLERS 

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

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

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

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

PLUMAGES  OF  WARBLERS 

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

832 


Our  Night  Hawk 

By  Edward  B.  Clark 

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

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

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

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

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

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


833 


The    Golden    Eagle    (AquUa   chrysaetos) 

By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

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

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

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

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

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

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

834 


o  r 
^  re 


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

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

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

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

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


835 


Ruby-Crowned  Kinglet  {Reguius  calendula) 

By  Juliette  A.  Owen 

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

— Cclia  Thaxtcr. 

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

— Wordsworth. 

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

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

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

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

836 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

837 


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

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

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


Ihe    Cradwall    {ChauUlasmus  streperus) 

Synonym. — Gray  Duck. 

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

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

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

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

838 


rr 


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

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

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

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


.839 


The  Song  Sparrow's  Appeal 

By  George  B.  Griffith 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

840 


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


European    Widgeon    {Mareca  penelope) 

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

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


841 


The  American  Dipper  or  Water  Ouzel 

{Cinclus  mexicanus  unicolor) 
By  C.  Hart  Merriam 

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

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

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

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

842 


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

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

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

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


Steller's    Eider    {Polysticta  stelleri) 

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

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

843 


The  SwainSOn's  Warbler  (HeUnaia  swainsoni) 

By  Mary  Hyatt 

Length :     5^  inches. 

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

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

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

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

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

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


The  Goldfinch 

By   Herbert  Randall 

Called  also  Wild  Canary  and  Yellowbird. 

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

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

844 


FROM    COL.   CHI.    ACAD.    SCIENCES. 


643 


SWAINSONS  WARBLER. 

(Helinaia  swainsonii). 

Aliout  Life-size. 


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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


845 


The  Shoveler  {Spatula  clypeata) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

846 


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

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

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

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


Spectacled   Eider  {Arctonetta  fischen) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

847 


The  Rivoli  Hummingbird  {Eugenes  fuigens) 

By  Lynds  Jones 

Length :  4  inches. 

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

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

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

Zephyr  loves  thy  wings 

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

Spirit  of  flowers ! 

Thou  art  a  winged  thought 

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

Angel  of  flowers ! 

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

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

848 


rn  Z 

^00 


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

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

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

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

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

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

A  bee  collecting  sweets  from  bloom  to  bloom, 

A  butterfly  in  Ijrilliancy  of  plume." 


849 


The  Spotted  Sandpiper  or  "Peet-Weet" 

By  Thomas  Nuttall 

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

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

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

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


850 


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

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


IvedhCtld    (Marila  americana) 

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

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


851 


The  Hermit  Thrush 

By  Harry  Edward  Miller 

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

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

That  have  oft  the  listener  stirred. 

But  here  in  forest  land  remote 

The  new  world  knows  thy  magic  throat ; 

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

Word  from  a  land  no  eyes  have  seen. 

Under  the  lofty  Druid  trees. 

No  sweeter  sound  upon  the  breeze 

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

Who  sings  of  a  far  country  fair. 

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

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

And  lifted  up  our  wistful  gaze. 


Audubon's     Oriole    {icterus  anduhonU) 

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

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

852 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


853 


Violet  Green  Swallow  {Tachydneta  thalassina  lepida) 

By  Lynds  Jones 

Length  :     About  6  inches. 

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

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

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

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

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


Hud  soman    God  wit    {Limosa  haemasHca) 

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

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

854 


X 


500 


VIOLET-GREEN   SWALLOW. 

(Tachycineta  thalassina  ) 

*  :.  Life-sizt^. 


COFVRMmT    IMS,   lY   ' 


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


To  a  Woods  Wren 

By  W.  F.  Lcavell 

Tiny  bird,  so  wee,  ])ut  friendly. 

As  you  hop  about  so  near. 

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

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

And  for  me  your  lack  (jf  tear? 

You,  of  birds,  if  not  the  smallest. 

Are  most  wonderfully  frail : 

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

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

It  tooks  years  to  grow  this  tail.'' 

Animated,  feathered  atom, 

As  a  bluffer  you  excel ; 

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

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

Little  bird.  I  wish  you  well. 

— Dumb  Animals. 

855 


Pacific  Elder  {SomateHa  dresseri) 

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

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


Ring-Necked  Duck  {MarUa  coiians) 

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

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

856 


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


Great  Scaup  Duck  {Mariia  mariia) 

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

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


857 


Nesting  of  the  Gadwall 

By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

858 


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

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


American   Merganser  {Mergus  amerkanus) 

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

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


859 


Red -Breasted  Merganser  (Mergus  serrator) 

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

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


JN4earn  S  CJuail  {Cyrtonyx  montezumae  mearnsi.) 

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

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


860 


The  Kn^lish  Sparrow 

By  T.  (jilbcTt  Pearson 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

861 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

862 


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

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

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

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

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

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

863 


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

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

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

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


864 


The  Black-Billed  Cuckoo 

By  Mdiccnt  Eno  Humason 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


865 


The  Varied  Thrush  {ixoreus  naevius) 

By  Lynds  Jones 

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

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

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

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

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

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

866 


490 


VARIED  THRUSH 

'Hesperocichla  naevia.) 

About  li  Life-size 


COPVniMMT   1f02,   tT  A.    w     MUWFOnC     CMICAGG 


The  White-Breasted  Nuthatch 

By  Harry  Edward  MilKr 

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

Like  some  jester  with  his  chaffing  ] 

Echoes  with  court  jester's  style  ; 

I'Vom  orchard  tree  or  woodland  aisle; 

Or  with  hilarious  vein  doth  greet 

The  stroller  through  the  village  street. 

To  hring  again  as  hring  they  must 

The  court  jester  whose  bones  are  dust ; 

The  castle  and  all  the  castle  throng  * 

That  to  the  clouded  past  l)elong.  i 

The  door  is  opened  and  lifted  the  latch 

By  this  old  jester,  the  gray  nuthatch. 

Who  does  on  tree-trunk  bob  and  tilt,  ; 

Asking  the  dreamer  if  he  wilt 

To  walk  through  Fancy's  guarded  door 

To  those  lost  ages  gone  before ; 

To  live  again  in  stout  castle  keep 

With  people  who  long  ago  went  to  sleep ; 

To  hear  again  in  the  master's  court  j 

The  song  of  jester  and  his  quick  retort ; 

The  jester  whose  sole  place  on  earth 

Was  to  drive  out  old  care  with  mirth  : 

So  once  his  mirthful  journey  ran — 

Now-  there  be  none  of  his  old  clan  { 

Of  merrymakers  in  thick  wood  or  grove,  \ 

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

Lest  some  such  spirit  did  incarnate  . 

To  make  the  nuthatch  laughter's  mate. 


867 


Our  Wood  Pewee 

By  Edward  B.  Clark 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


868 


The  Maryland  Yellow-Throat 

To  Margey  Christine  Ennine 

Airy,  cheery,  little  fay! 

He  goes  warbling  all  the  day — 

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

"Margey,  Margey.  Margey!" 

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

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

"Margey,  Margey,  Margey !" 

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

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

"Margey,  Margey,  Margey !" 

Ray  Ron. 


869 


The  Worm-Eating  Warbler  {HelmUheros   vermlvorus) 

[By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

870 


■iol 


WORM-EATING  WARBLER. 

iHelmitherus  vermivorus.) 
About  Life-size. 


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


Communion 

By  Meliccnt  Eno  Hiimason 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


871 


The  Veery 

By  T.  Gilbert  Pearson 

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

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

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

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

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

872 


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

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

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

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

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


873 


The  Roseate  Spoonbill  (Aiaja  ajaja) 

By  F.  M.  Woodruff 

Length :    32  inches. 

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

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

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

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

874 


149 


ROSEATE  SPOONBILL. 
J  Life-size. 


WPORO.  CHICAGO 


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

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


Band-Tailed    Plf^eon   (Colnmba  Jasdata  Jasciata) 

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

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

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


875 


The  Olive-Sided  Flycatcher  {Nuttaiiomis  boreaiis) 

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

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

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

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

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


876 


484 


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


COPYRIGHT    1901.    BY   4.  w.    MUUFORD,  CHICAGO 


Barrow's  Golden-Eye  (^cianiiitia  ishuuUca) 

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

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


Snow  OoOSe  iChcn    hyperboreus    hyperboreiis) 

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

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


877 


The  California  Thrasher  {Toxostoma  Rediviva) 

By  F.  E.  L.  Beal 

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

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

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

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

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

878 


o 

Is 

I.,  o    > 

!?  5"  t;* 

•  5 

w  "■■  H 

•  P-  JO 
<  > 

e  W 


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

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

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

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

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


879 


The  Broad-Winged  Hawk  {Buteo  piatyptems) 

Synonym, — Broad- winged  Buzzard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

880 


4t^.S 


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

I  Kiiteo  latissiMiu») 

'a   Li(e-sJ7e. 


CO'VRIOmT    HOO.  •» 


UMFO»:     ■-■c*oo 


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

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


Knot  {Tringa  canutus) 

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

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


881 


o3gC   OCn   {Centrocercus   urophasianus) 

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

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


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

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

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

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


882 


Franklin's   CiroUSe   {Camickitcs  Jraukmi) 

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

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


Spruce  Grouse  {Canaclutcs   canadeyisis   canace) 

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

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


883 


Black-Bellied   Plover  (Squatarola  squatarola) 

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

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


The  House-Wren 

Alexander  Wilson 

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

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

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

884 


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

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

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

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

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


885 


The  Northern  Phalarope  {Phaiaropus  lobatus). 

By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

886 


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

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

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

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


887 


The  Golden-Crowned  Kinglet  {Reguius  satrapa) 

By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

888 


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

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


889 


The  Broad-Tailed  Humming-Bird 

(Selasphorus  Platycercus) 
By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

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

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

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

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


890 


4fi7 


BROAD-TAILED   HUMMINGBIRD. 

(Selasphorus  plalycercus.) 

Life-size. 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

891 


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

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

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

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

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


[  892 


Rlue-Win^cd   Teal    iOnm/ucdula  discors) 

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

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


893 


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

894 


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

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

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

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

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


895 


The  Woodpecker 

He's  the  sassiest  critter  that  ever  I  see! 
An'  he  sets  there  a-peekin'  an'  bobbin'  at  me, 
While  he's  carvin  a  notch  in  the  wind-shaky  crotch 
O'  that  moss-covered  hickory  tree. 
Dinged  if  ever  I  see  such  a  tormentin'  bird ! 
When  I  woke  up  this  mornin',  the  first  thing  I  heard 
Was  his  "rubby-dub-dub"  on  an  ol'  holler  stub — 
'Fore  the  other  fowls  twittered  'r  stirred. 

See  im  set  there  a-peckin'  that  worm-eaten  limb, 
An'  a-winkin'  at  me  as  I'm  talkin  o'  him  ; 
While  his  hard  bullet  head  shinin'  glossy  an'  red 
Drives  a  bill  like  a  thorn,  black  an'  slim. 
Seems  in  teasin'  a  feller  he  takes  a  delight ; 
An'  he'd  rather  be  killed  in  a  one-sided  fight, 
Than  to  give  up  the  grub  he  has  found  in  that  stub — 
'R  to  show  the  white  feather,  in  flight. 

He's  the  beatenest  bird — an'  he  don't  care  a  straw ! 
W'y,  he  takes  what  he  wants,  without  license  'r  law, 
An'  he  chatters  with  fun  at  the  crack  of  a  gun — 
While  he's  fillin'  his  famishin'  craw. 
I'll  be  hanged  if  I  don't  kind  o'  fancy  'im  though — 
He's  so  blamed  independent  an'  keerless,  you  know ; 
An'  I'd  feel  sort  o'  bad — an'  consider'ble  sad. 
If  he'd  mind  by  complainin'  an'  go. 

James  Ball  Nay  lor. 


896 


SlatC-Colorcd    JunCO    (Jkhco  kycmalis) 

Lciij^lh  .ihoiit  ()J4  inches. 

rrevailinjj  color  prayish  slate,  l)rlly  white;  outer  tail  feathers  tipperl  with 
white. 

Rau^'e :  ilreeds  in  nnich  (jf  Ala>l<a  and  Lanada  and  in  the  ni<nnUain.s  ui  .\c\v 
N'»»rl<,  Pennsylvania  and  Massachusetts,  wiiile  a  nearly  related  f(irni  (the  Carolina 
Junco)  breeds  in  the  southern  .MIeghenies ;  winters  throughout  the  eastern  states 
to  the  Gulf. 

(  )nly  one  junco  inhabits  the  eastern  I'nited  Statc>.  but  >c\irai  -jk^.^-  ,.,. 
in  the  west.  .Ml  of  the  members  of  the  group  resemble  each  other  in  a  general 
way  and  all  have  similar  habits.  Most  of  us  know  the  junco  only  in  the  fall  and 
when,  after  having  summered  in  the  mountains  of  the  more  northern  districts, 
the  birds  gather  in  large  Hocks  and  forsake  high  altitudes  for  more  congenial 
surroundings.  The  junco  associates  with  other  sparrows,  usually  far  outnum- 
bering them,  but  its  slate-colored  plumage  and  white  tail  feathers  reveal  its  pres- 
ence unmistakably.  Its  familiar  "tsip"  may  be  easily  recognized  among  the 
medley  of  notes,  but  its  low  sweet  song  is  to  be  heard  at  its  best  only  in  its  Alpine 
home.  Nevertheless,  as  the  late  migrants  shape  their  course  for  the  northern 
woods,  it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  the  males  of  a  flock  burst  into  song,  as  if  they 
really  could  not  be  content  to  remain  silent  any  longer.  When  snow  is  on  the 
ground  the  juncos  are  often  hard  pushed  for  food  and  on  such  occasions  a  flock 
will  readily  respond  to  an  invitation  to  visit  the  dooryard  and  dine  on  t:d)lc 
crumbs  or  small  seeds  of  any  kind. 

The  junco  is  one  of  our  most  persistent  grass  and  weed  seed  eaters  and  in 
winter  and  spring  seeds  constitute  much  the  greater  part  of  its  fare.  Taking  the 
year  around,  about,  one-fourth  of  its  food  consists  of  insects,  including  leaf  beetles, 
weevils,  caterpillars,  grasshoppers  and  many  others. 


897 


The    Arctic    Towhee    {PipUo  Maculatus   ArcUcus) 

By  I.  N.  Michell 

The  Arctic,  or  Northern,  Towhee  is  a  bird  of  high  altitudes  and  latitudes.  Its 
breeding  range  is  somewhat  restricted,  including  the  plains  of  the  Platte,  upon 
Missouri,  Yellowstone  and  Saskatchewan  rivers  and  the  regions  westward  to  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  In  the  winter  it  passes  southward,  finally 
reaching  the  state  of  Texas.  Throughout  its  range  it  frequents  streams  and 
shores  that  are  bordered  with  bushy  underbrush.  In  some  localities,  as  in  the 
valley  of  the  Great  Slave  Lake,  this  species  is  very  abundant. 

"The  Arctic  Towhee  appears  in  the  vicinity  of  Idaho  Springs  about  the 
middle  of  May  and  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  two  becomes  rather  common,  though 
never  very  abundant.  It  becomes  rare  above  8.500  feet,  and  above  9,000  feet  dis- 
appears altogether,  being  most  numerous  from  7,500  feet  down  to  the  plains.  In 
habits  and  appearance  it  is  quite  similar  to  the  eastern  towhee,  but  is  much  shyer 
and  is  easily  frightened,  when  it  hides  in  the  bushes  until  all  appearance  of  dan- 
ger has  passed  by.  It  utters  the  'chewink'  of  the  eastern  towhee,  or  a  note  almost 
exactly  like  it,  though  a  little  lower  and  more  wiry." 

The  towhees  obtain  a  large  share  of  their  food  by  scratching  among  the 
fallen  leaves  that  lie  upon  the  ground  under  the  underbrush  that  they  frequent. 
The  Arctic  towhee  will  respond  to  a  Avhistled  call,  though  it  is  not  as  inquisitive 
as  the  eastern  species. 

Its  nest  is  placed  on  the  ground,  in  a  slight  depression  scratched  out  by  the 
bird,  and  is  usually  under  the  protecting  shadows  of  shrubs.  The  nest,  the  rim 
of  which  is  flush  with  the  ground,  is  "strongly  built  of  bark  strips,  blades  of  dry 
grass,  and  usually  lined  with  yellow  straw." 


Enormous  Number  of  Robins 

The  immense  concourses  of  passenger  pigeons,  remembered  by  manv  now 
living  and  so  graphically  described  by  Wilson,  Audubon,  and  other  early  or- 
nithologists, are  common  knowledge.  But  that  the  robins  of  America  are  today 
far  more  numerous  than  the  passenger  pigeons  ever  were,  and  that  many  other 
species  outnumber  them  also — perhaps  three  to  one — is  not  generally  appreciated. 
The  gregariousness  of  the  pigeons,  causing  them  to  unite  in  a  few  great  flocks, 
made  the  number  much  more  manifest  than  do  the  scattered  small  bands  and 
individuals  of  other  birds.  Yet  when  we  reflect  that  robins  nest  over  an  area 
extending  at  its  farthest  limits  from  Mexico  to  the  Arctic  ocean  and  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  that  in  much  of  this  vast  territory  they  are  fairly 
crowded,  it  is  easy  to  conjecture  what  an  immeasurable  army  they  would  make 
if  gathered  into  one  flock. — Henry  Oldys  in  "Bird-Lore." 

898 


563 


ARCTIC  TOWHEE. 

(Pipilo  maculatus  arcticus). 

*  5  Life-size. 


tafrfttMi   IMft,  IT  «.  < 


Courtin'  Tarn   In   Dc  W'oodlan' 

(  A    I'  ii-iuli  (  aiKuliaii    I'.allail.; 

\\\    I  AW  K.  S.iri-tt 

( )Ii.  cet's  courtiii'  tain'  in  <\v  wctodlan' I 

De  sap  she's  in  dc  trct's ; 
Wit'  love  (Ic  birds  dev're  seenj^in' 

(  )n  de  wil"  ( "anadiaii  l»reeze. 
De  r-redliead  uoodpecks  flr-rnnunin' 

( )n  de  top-nios'  hollow  leenih. 
\\  ile  he  Ictok  to  see  so  h-anxioiis 

Met  hees  lady  come  to  heeni. 
An'  de  hermit  t'rush  he's  fifin* 

(  )n  de  swamp  lak  he  don't  care 
Xo  more  to  l>c  wan  hermit. 

W'cn  di'  sprccnj^  she's  in  de  air! 

Oh.  eet's  courtin'  tam'  in  de  woodlan' ! 

Hear  de  pa'tridge  dr-rum  all  day ! 
W'ile  hees  ladies  gadder  'roun'  heem, 

An'  admire  how  he  play ! 
De  r-redweeng  blackbird's  sweengin', 

Wile  he  pipe  hees  "Gug-le-gee !" — 
Dat's  hees  fenny  way  of  callin'. 

"Please,  lady,  look  on  mc!" 
An'  de  cr-row,  wile  he  aint  sweet  seenger, 

h'or  tunes  he  aint  got  no  han'. 
Lak  me  he  mak'  for  hees  music, 

De  beegcs'  noise  he  can. 

Oh.  cet's  courtin'  tarn'  in  de  woodlan'  I 

How  de  lark  flute  ev'ryw'cre. 
W'ile  hees  ma'm'selle  hide  in  de  willow, 

An'  play  lak  she  don't  care! 
De  vi'let  look  her  sweetes' 

For  to  catch  dose  bomble-bee ; 
An'  Jomp-op  Johnny  dressin' 

Lak  he's  goin'  on  gran'  ol'  spree. 
An'  now  de  ev'nin's  fallin, — 

Jus'  hear  dose  wailin'  loon ! 
-An'  de  lonesome  wolf  he's  howlin' 

For  hees  lady  in  de  moon ! 

899 


Oh,  eet's  courtin'  tam'  in  de  woodlan'  !- 

Ba  Gosh !  Dat's  good  idee ! 
I'm  dress  np — me — lak  de  bkie  jay, 

An'  court  ma  gairl  Marie! 
An'  dough  ma  voice  seengs  fonn\-, 

Lak  saws  cut  de  knots  in  pine, 
I'll  tak'  ma  ol'  accord'yon, 

'Cos  I  mak'  dose  music  fine. 
Eef  de  sparrow,  cr-row  an'  cow-bird, 

So  homely  as  can  be. 
Can  win  som'  gairl  in  de  spreengtam', 

Ba  Gar !  dere's  chance  for  me ! 


Wood    Duck    i^ix  Sponsa) 

Range:  Breeds  from  southern  British  Columbia,  central  Saskatchewan, 
northern  Ontario,  New  Brunswick,  and  Nova  Scotia  south  to  central  California, 
southern  Texas,  Florida,  and  Cuba ;  winters  chiefly  in  the  United  States  from 
southern  British  Columbia,  Kansas,  Illinois,  Indiana,  Pennsylvania,  and  New 
Jersey  south  to  southern  California  and  the  Gulf  of  IMexico. 

However  divided  the  sportsmen  of  America  may  be  on  the  many  questions 
affecting  their  rights  and  privileges,  they  should  one  and  all  unite  in  an  attempt 
to  preserve  the  existence  of  the  wood  duck,  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
duck  tribe.  It  is  true  that  in  some  sections  of  the  country  the  wood  duck  is  still 
far  from  uncommon,  but  no  one  conversant  with  the  present  state  of  affairs 
can  examine  the  records  of  its  former  range  and  abundance  without  being  con- 
vinced that  the  danger  threatening  the  species  is  real  and  imminent ;  nor  need 
recorded  evidence  alone  be  relied  upon,  for  there  are  many  sportsmen  alive  today 
whose  memories  go  back  to  the  time  when  this  beautiful  bird  abounded  in  most 
of  the  wooded  sections  of  eastern  United  States,  where  today  few,  if  any,  remain. 
A  regulation  under  the  Federal  migratory  bird  law  provides  a  closed  season  for 
the  wood  duck  until  1918,  and  if  this  prohibition  is  faithfully  observed,  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  the  species  will  materially  increase,  more  particularly 
as  in  states  where  it  is  wholly  protected,  or  protected  in  spring,  an  increase  in 
numbers  has  already  been  noted.  It  will  be  to  our  everlasting  shame  if  this,  one 
of  the  most  perfect  of  Nature's  creations,  is  allowed  to  meet  the  same  fate  as  the 
passenger  pigeon.  Practically  all  the  wood  ducks  nest  and  winter  within  our 
own  boundaries  and  it  is  for  us  to  sav  what  shall  l)c  their  fate. 


900 


Kllldcer    (Oxycc/iKS   voci ferns) 


Range:  Breeds  from  central  British  Columbia,  soutlicrn  Mackenzie,  central 
Kcewatin.  and  central  Quebec  south  to  Gulf  coast  and  central  Mexico;  winters 
from  California.  Arizona,  Texn",  Indiana,  New  Jersey,  and  P>crmuda  poiith  to 
Wnezuela  and  Peru. 

The  killdccr  is  unquoniiiKuiiy  oik-  (jf  tht-  most  widely  ilistributed  and  oii<*  of 
the  best  known  of  the  phner  tribe.  The  bird  student  who  makes  its  acquaintance 
need  not  ask  its  name,  for  the  birtl  never  tires  of  re])eating  it  at  all  seasons.  Its 
vociferous  iteration  of  "kill-deer,  kill-deer"  brings  dcjwn  on  its  olTending  head 
the  wrath  of  the  sportsman  whose  cherished  plans  for  a  successful  stalk  of  a 
flock  of  duck-^  arc  upset  by  its  excited  cries,  rightly  intcrj)ret('d  l)\-  the  flucks  as 
signals  of  danger  not  to  be  neglected. 

Though  the  killdccr  is  a  plover,  he  cares  \ery  little  for  the  seacoast,  nor 
overmuch  for  the  neighborhood  of  water,  but  finds  all  his  wants  supplied  in 
upland  pastures  and  plowed  lands.  I  lis  bill  of  fare  is  a  long  and  varied  one,  and 
includes  many  pestiferous  kinds  of  insects.  As  the  bird's  flesh  is  little  esteemed 
and  its  services  are  of  decided  value  to  man,  no  very  good  reason  appears  why 
the  species  should  not  flourish.  But  though  the  bird  is  still  numerous,  it  has  been 
exterminated  in  many  localities.  As  it  is  now  protected  under  the  Federal  law 
we  may  look  to  see  it  again  occupy  territory  from  which  it  has  been  long  absent. 
There  is  the  more  reason  to  expect  this  since  the  killdeer  responds  quickly  enough 
to  decent  treatment,  as  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  a  pair  has  nested  for  three 
sucessive  seasons  on  a  golf  course  near  Washington,  D.  C.  Despite  the  fact  that 
the  location  of  the  nest  was  known  to  at  least  a  hundred  players  and  caddies, 
and  that  the  piece  of  "rough"  in  which  the  next  was  located  was  invaded  scores 
of  times  daily,  the  birds  were  successful  in  bringing  out  their  young  each  year, 
though  plovers  never  had  a  more  exciting  time  doing  it. 


901 


The  Great-Tailed  Grackle  {Megaqmscaius  Major 

Macrourus) 
By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

The  Great-tailed  Grackle  belongs  to  a  family  of  birds  that  is  "eminently 
characteristic  of  the  New  World,  all  the  species  being  peculiar  to  America."  It 
is  the  family  of  the  blackbird  and  oriole,  of  the  bobolink  and  the  meadowlark.  It 
is  called  the  Icteridae,  from  a  Greek  word  ikteros,  meaning  a  yellow  bird.  The 
majority  of  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  more  species  that  are  grouped  in  this 
family  make  their  home  in  the  tropics  where  their  brilliant  colors  are  emphasized 
by  the  ever  green  foliage  and  the  bright  sunshine. 

The  family  is  interesting  because  the  species,  though  closely  related,  vary  so 
widely  in  their  habits.  They  "are  found  living  in  ground  of  every  nature,  from 
dry  plains  and  wet  marshes  to  the  densest  forest  growth,"  Here  are  classed  some 
of  the  birds  which  are  among-  the  most  beautiful  of  our  songsters.  Here,  too,  are 
classed  some  species  that  never  utter  a  musical  sound,  and  whose  voices  are 
harsh  and  rough.  The  sexes  are  usually  dissimilar,  the  female  being  the  smaller 
and  generally  much  duller  in  color. 

The  Great-tailed  Grackle  is  a  native  of  Eastern  Texas,  and  the  country 
sowthward  into  Central  America.  The  Crackles  are  sometimes  called  Crow 
Blackbirds.  There  are  five  species,  all  found  in  the  United  States.  The  Bronzed 
and  the  Purple  Crackles  are  the  most  generally  distributed  and  best  known. 

The  Great-tailed  Grackle,  as  well  as  the  other  species,  usually  builds  rude  and 
bulky  nests  in  trees,  sometimes  at  quite  a  height  from  the  ground.  It  will  also 
nest  in  shrubs  and  it  is  said  that  it  will  occasionally  select  holes  in  large  trees. 
The  males  are  an  iridescent  black  in  color  and  the  females  are  brown  and  much 
smaller.  Both  sexes  spend  most  of  their  time  on  the  ground.  Their  feet  are 
strong  and  large,  and,  when  U])on  the  ground,  they  walk  or  run  and  never  hop. 


902 


Birds  as   IVescr\ers  of  \^e^etation 

Jiy  ]..  W.  i;n.wiH-ll 

It  'i>  fairly  safe  to  assert  that  were  it  not  for  the  birds  this  world  would  very 
shortly  he  entirely  bereft  ()f  its  vej^etation  for  it  is  almost  certain  tiiat  man  alone 
without  the  aid  of  the  birds  could  not  wajje  a  winning  war  against  the  immense 
armies  of  vegetation  destroying  insects.  ICven  with  the  aid  of  the  birds  the 
insects  frequently  gain  the  upper  hand  and  cause  tremendijus  loss  to  the  agri- 
culturist as  is  evidenced  by  the  reports  of  Dr.  Marlatt  of  the  United  States 
Department  of  Agriculture.  In  1904  he  made  extensive  and  most  careful  investi- 
gation and  estimated  that  the  loss  to  agriculturists,  and  consequently  to  the  world, 
for  that  year  from  insect  depredations  reached  the  grand  total  of  .seven  hundred 
and  ninety-five  millions  of  dollars.  This  seems  almost  incredible  but  it  was 
thought  to  be  a  conservative  estimate  and  the  losses  have  increased  rather  than 
decreased  since  then. 

Many  of  my  readers  may  think  that  by  my  statement  I  am  exaggerating 
tlie  importance  of  the  birds  as  to  their  value  to  mankind,  but  now  let  us  see  what 
the  birds  actually  accomplish  as  insect  destroyers. 

The  young  of  the  majority  of  our  birds  are  fed  upon  insects  and  nothing 
else  for  the  first  few  weeks  after  they  are  hatched  and  many  are  insect  eaters 
all  their  lives.  The  young  are  voracious  eaters  and  are  fed  by  their  parents 
on  an  average  of  every  five  or  six  minutes  during  the  day,  and  their  day  begins 
at  daylight  and  does  not  end  until  dark.  At  each  visit  of  the  old  binls  they 
bring  from  one  to  a  dozen  insects  and  this  does  not  take  into  consideration  those 
that  they  eat  in  the  meantime.  Thus  it  will  I)e  seen  that  a  single  family  of  birds 
will  consume  several  hundred  insects  in  a  day.  In  fact  it  has  been  estimated 
by  careful  observation  that  a  family  of  young  birds  will  destroy  from  five  to 
twelve  hundred  insects  daily.  Besides  the  actual  insects  themselves  many  birds 
destroy  great  masses  of  insect  eggs  often  reaching  into  the  thousands  in  a  day. 
When  we  think  of  the  really  great  army  of  birds  that  are  being  reared,  and  inci- 
dentally fed.  at  the  same  time  throughout  the  country  we  can  gain  some  idea 
of  the  stupendous  number  of  insects  that  are  daily  destroyed  by  them. 

These  facts,  taken  into  conjunction  with  the  facts  concerning  the  destruction 
done  by  the  insects  in'  spite  of  the  birds,  will  serve  to  show  us  what  would 
inevitably  happen  if  we  did  not  have  the  birds  to  hold  the  insects  in  check. 

To  offset  the  good  that  they  do  a  few  birds  on  the  farm  may  eat  a  few 
cherries  or  berries,  but  can  we  not  well  afford  to  pay  this  small  price  for  the  inesti- 
mable services  which  they  perform  for  us? 


903 


The  Knot  or  Robin  Snipe  {THnga  Camuus) 

By  C.  Hart  Merriam 

The  Knot  or  Robin  Snipe  is  a  bird  of  several  names.,  as  it  is  also  called  the 
Red-breasted  Ash-colored  Sandpiper,  the  Gray-back  and  the  Grap  Snipe.  It  is 
quite  cosmopolitan,  breeding  in  the  far  north  of.  both  hemispheres,  but  in  winter 
migrating  southward  and  wintering  in  the  climate  of  the  southern  United  States 
and  Central  America.  The  Knot  belongs  to  the  Snipe  family  (Scolopacidae), 
which  includes  one  hundred  or  more  species,  about  forty-five  of  which  are  inhabit- 
ants of  North  America.  Nearly  all  the  species  breed  in  the  higher  latitudes  of  the 
northern  hemisphere.  These  birds  frequent  the  shores  of  large  bodies  of  water 
and  are  seldom  observed  far  from  their  vicinity.  Their  bills  are  long  and  are 
used  in  seeking  food  in  the  soft  mud  of  the  shore. 

The  Knot  visits  the  great  lakes  during  its  migrations  and  is  frequently  ob- 
served at  that  time.  Its  food,  which  consists  of  the  smaller  crustaceans  and  shells, 
can  be  as  readily  obtained  on  the  shores  of  these  lakes  as  on  those  of  the  ocean, 
which  it  also  follows. 

Dr.  Ridgway  tells  us  that  "Adulty  specimens  vary  individually  in  the  relative 
extent  of  the  black,  gray  and  reddish  colors  on  the  upper  parts ;  gray  usually  pre- 
dominates in  the  spring,  the  black  in  midsummer.  Sometimes  there  is  no  rufous 
whatever  on  the  upper  surface.  The  cinnamon  color  of  the.  lower  parts  also 
varies  in  intensity." 

Little  is  known  of  the  nest  and  eggs  of  the  Knot  owing  to  its  retiring  habits  at 
the  nesting  time  and  the  fact  that  it  breeds  in  the  region  of  the  Arctic  Circle,  so 
little  frequented  by  man.  One  authentic  report,  that  of  Lieutenant  A.  W.  Greely, 
describes  a  single  egg  that  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  near  Fort  Conger  while 
commanding  an  expedition  to  Lady  Franklin  Sound.  This  egg  was  a  little  more 
than  an  inch  in  length  and  about  one  inch  in  diameter.  Its  color  was  a  "light 
pea-green,  closely  spotted  with  brown  in  small  specks  about  the  size  of  a  pinhead." 


904 


z 

c 

c"  ^  _ 

o  ::.  O 
S^  ^ 

»?  »>   JO 

r  3  o 

r:  3   03 

(T  c  i-i 


In    IVaise  of  Swallows 

i5y   R»»l>cil   Sparks   Walker 

.\o  oiluT  j^roiii)  of  birds  contriljiitcs  more  than  do  tlu-  swallows  to  im  \m h.im 
of  llic  human  race.  They  constitute  a  well  (k'liiied  Kroup,  and  they  won  this 
hiijh  rank  as  benefactors  both  to  man  and  beast  by  their  jjcrsistent  work  in  rithlin^ 
the  atmosphere  of  annoyins^  and  dangerous  insect  ])ests.  It  is  difficult  indeed 
correctly  to  imaj^ine  just  what  mijijht  be  the  fate  of  man  in  many  parts  of  the 
world,  if  these  busy  creatures  should  fail  to  appear  at  the  i)roper  season  when 
llies,  gnats,  mosquitoes  and  other  dreaded  insects  make  their  appearance.  Whether 
it  is  providential,  or  accidental,  it  is  certainly  an  inlcrestin}^  coincidence  that  the 
faithful  little  swalhnvs  make  their  appearance  simultaneously  with  tlie  pestiferous 
insects  upon  which  they  feed.  And  where  do  these  birds  come  from?  As  if 
by  magic,  they  appear  and  disappear  with  the  cominj^  and  j^oinj,''  of  warm  weather. 
\'ery  swift  in  flight,  these  graceful  birds  may  be  observed  high  in  the  heavens, 
tunu'iig  graceful  curves,  darting  here  and  there  in  pursuit  of  insect  pests,  and 
then  in  an  almost  shockingly  short  time  may  be  observed  skimming  along  at  a 
rapid  rate  of  speed  down  near  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The  mouth  of  the 
swallow  is  very  broad,  beak  short,  which  makes  it  an  easy  matter  for  it  to  gulp 
ui>  the  insects  while  flying  at  a  rapid  rate.  From  tlie  habit  of  sj)ending  the  most 
of  their  time  on  Aving,  they  have  developed  two  very  short  and  rather  weak  legs. 

The  number  of  species  of  swallow  is  around  eighty,  and  they  are  found  in 
all  parts  of  the  world,  excepting  that  portion  uchy  the  poles.  Those  that  inhabit 
the  colder  jiortions  of  the  earth  are  migratory  in  habits.  In  the  United  States 
no  person  has  ever  found  out  just  where  our  common  swallows  go  to  sj)cnd  the 
winter.  .A-s  cold  weather  comes  on,  they  begin  to  move  southward,  stopping  along 
the  way  to  visit  rivers,  lakes  or  ponds,  and  then  they  finally  disappear  over  the 
Tiulf  of  Mexico.  It  is  the  general  belief  that  the  swallow  spends  its  winters 
sonicwhcrc  in  South  .\merica. 

Of  the  eighty  species  of  swallow  found  in  the  world,  only  seven  inhabit  Xorth 
America,  and  these  range  as  far  north  as  the  Arctic  Ocean.  The  largest  swallow 
is  the  i)urple  martin,  and  the  smallest  is  the  bank  swallow!  The  latter  is  a  wonder- 
ful little  bird  wdien  it  comes  to  performing  work  which  seems  utterly  impossible. 
I  or  its  nest  it  digs  out  tunnels  in  sand  banks  which  end  in  a  large  chamber.  Just 
how  it  can  construct  these  long  tunnels  with  a  poor  set  of  tools  is  not  well 
understood.  Some  will  even  utilize  the  abandoned  holes  made  by  neighboring 
birds. 

The  most  common  swallow  found  in  North  America  is  the  barn  swallow. 
The  clifT  or  eaves  sw-allow  is  another  familiar  bird  that  also  commonly  visits  the 
barnyard.  The  former  difTers  from  the  latter  in  that  it  possesses  a  \ery  pro- 
nounced forked  tail.  Common  throughout  the  United  States  is  the  white-bellied 
or  tree  swallow.  It  is  a  beautiful  bird  that  wears  a  steel  blue  coat  above  and 
white  beneath.     The  little  violet -green  swallow  found  in  the  western  part  of  the 

905 


United  States  much  resembles  the  tree  swallow,  but  it  measures  only  about  five 
inches  in  length.  The  seventh  and  last  species  found  in  the  United  States  is 
the  rough-winged  swallow. 

The  species  of  swallow  found  in  South  America  by  far  outnumber  those  in 
the  United  States.  As  the  country  has  become  populated,  these  birds  have  left 
their  wild  places  of  abode,  and  have  taken  up  life  near  the  houses  and  barns,  where 
they  find  great  delight  in  nesting.  Throughout  the  world  the  swallows  have 
shown  this  gentle  spirit  of  yielding  to  semi-domestication  and  it  has  made  them 
a  pleasing  neighbor  to  man  in  far-ofif  Africa,  Asia,  Australia,  Europe  and  every- 
where. Their  pleasing  habits  have  created  a  great  growth  of  folk-lore,  rich 
sentiment,  and  poetry  in  many  lands. 


The  Dovekie   {Aiie  Aiie) 

By  Edward  B.  Clark 

Length :    8  inches. 

The  Dovekie,  commonly  called  Sea  Dove  or  Little  Auk,  is  a  little  fellow 
with  short  bill  and  legs,  inhabiting  the  Atlantic  Ocean  from  the  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence  northward.  Dovekies  probably  do  not  breed  south  of  Greenland ;  in 
winter  they  occur  in  New  Brunswick,  Newfoundland,  and  Labrador,  becoming 
abundant  off  Exeter  Sound  and  along  the  west  coast  of  Baffin  Bay. 

Probably  the  most  accessible  breeding  grounds  are  in  Iceland.  Many  European 
bird  lovers  find  that  northerly  spot  much  more  accessible  than  any  similarly 
located  place  to  be  reached  from  either  side  of  the  American  continent.  Iceland 
is  a  veritable  bird  paradise.  Myriads  of  gulls,  sea  ducks,  shore  birds,  and  boreal 
land  birds,  such  as  the  ptarmigan,  gyrfalcon,  and  finches,  haunt  the  bleak  regions 
of  this  island.  The  Dovekie  deposits  her  single  large  pale-greenish-blue  egg  in 
crevices  of  the  sea  cliffs. 

In  the  far  arctic,  where  all  other  birds  perish,  the  Dovekie  survives. 


906 


A   Little  Song 

Warm  ami  Wft  \va>  that  <lay  in  June. 
The  swt'cl  air  thrilled  with  a  r«ihin's  tunc 

Carolled  oNcr  and  over. 
The  younj^  k^'rl's  cheek  was  pink  as  the  rose 
Tiiat  hy  the  i)|ieii  ddorway  ^lows 
At  the  <,'azi'  of  lu-r  hashful  lover. 

A  playl'iil  hand  held  a  perfect  rose 

Close  to  the  maiden's  fairness 
And  challenj^ed  the  gazing,  hashfnl  ho\- 
In  a  rippling  tone  of  purest  joy, 

"Which  one  excels  in  rareness?" 

Xow  sundered   far  are  the  happy  thre<-, 
And  the  home  is  only  a  memory 

With  its  doorway  framed  by  roses ; 
The  hashful  boy  and  the  rosy  maid 
Are  old  and  dignified  and  staid 

As  the  tale  of  the  years  uncloses. 

P)Ut  I  love  to  think  of  that  day  in  June. 

The  girl  and  the  bashful  lover. 
The  wet  i)ink  rose  and  the  robin's  tune 

Carolled  over  and  over. 

.Ml I.I.IK  XoEL  Long. 

OCTOBER. 

October's  garb  with  splendor  glows 
Ere  buried  by  the  winter  snows, 
As  a  long  life,  well-spent,  that  goes 
Radiatit  and  glorious  to  its  close. 

MiLLii-:  XoEL  Long. 


907 


The  Blue  Mountain  Lory 

By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

This  bird  inhabits  the  vast  plains  of  the  interior  of  New  South  Wales.  It 
is  one  of  the  handsomest,  not  only  of  the  Australian  parrots,  but  takes  foremost 
place  among  the  most  gorgeously  dressed  members  of  the  parrot  family  that  are 
to  be  met  with  in  any  part  of  the  world.  It  is  about  eleven  or  twelve  inches  in 
length.  The  female  cannot  with  certainty  be  distinguished  from  her  mate,  but 
is  usually  a  very  little  smaller.  The  lory  seldom  descends  to  the  ground,  but 
passes  the  greater  part  of  its  life  among  the  gum  trees,  upon  'the  pollen 
and  nectar'of  which  it  mainly  subsists.  In  times  of  scarcity,  however,  it  will  also 
eat  grass  seeds,  as  well  as  insects,  for  want  of  which,  it  is  said,  it  often  dies  pre- 
maturely when  in  captivity. 

Despite  his  beauty,  the  Blue  Mountain  Lory  is  not  a  desirable  bird  to  keep, 
as  he  requires  great  care.  A  female  which  survived  six  years  in  an  aviary,  laying 
several  eggs,  though  kept  singly,  was  fed  on  canary  seed,  maize,  a  little  sugar, 
raw  beef,  and  carrots. 

Like  all  the  parrot  family,  these  lories  breed  in  hollow  boughs,  where  the 
female  deposits  from  three  to  four  white  eggs,  upon  which  she  sits  for  twenty- 
one  days.  The  young  from  the  first  resemble  their  parents  closely,  but  are  a 
trifle  less  brilliantly  colored. 

They  are  very  active  and  graceful,  but  have  an  abominable  shriek.  The 
noise  is  said  to  be  nearly  as  disagreeable  as  the  plumage  is  beautiful.  They  are 
very  quarrelsome  and  have  to  be  kept  apart  from  the  other  parrots,  which  they 
will  kill.  The  feathers  of  the  head  and  neck. are  long  and  very  narrow  and  lie 
closely  together,  the  claws  are  strong  and  hooked,  indicating  their  tree-climbing 
habits. 


908 


18 


BLLK  MOUNTAIN  LORY. 

(Psittacus  swainsonii). 

Ji  Life-size. 


COPTRICHT   1*00,    ev    *.    fi.    UUMFORO,   CHICAGO 


The   Wood   Thrush 

By  \V.  Leon  Dawson 

l\an«4c.  l-.;i>tcrii  L'niti'tl  States  to  the  I'lains,  north  to  southern  Michigan, 
Ontario,  and  Massachusetts;  south  in  winter  to  Guatemala  and  Cuha.  FJrccds 
from  \"ir^inia.  Kentucky  and  Kansas  northward. 

.\hh()  all  of  our  Thrushes  are  retiritiij  in  di^i)ositioii,  the  Wood  Thrush, 
perhaps  because  of  his  larger  size,  is  the  least  sm.  Tiie  depths  of  the  forest, 
indec<l,  claim  him.  Init  so  too  do  the  shaded  lawns  of  village  streets  and  city 
l>arks.  In  his  woodland  homo  this  Thrush  does  not  tlee  as  tho  a  price  had 
been  ^^t•t  upon  bis  head,  but  often  comes  forward — not  too  close — with  a  pit  of 
iufjuiry  and  greeting. 

The  Wood  Thrush  spends  considerable  time  on  the  ground  looking  for 
beetles  and  worms,  but  he  is  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to  flutter  up  on  a  log 
or  low  branch,  and  stand  there  surveying  you,  flirting,  or  twinkling,  the  wings 
occasionally  to  indicate  his  perfect  readiness  for  further  retreat,  or  else  ruffling 
and  shaking  his  feathers  as  tho  to  shake  off  the  memory  of  the  mold.  A  false 
step  now  and  he  may  disappear  irrevocably  down  some  forest  isle ;  a  quiet  glance 
of  admiration  serves  to  reasure  him,  and  he  may  resume  his  feeding. 

There  is  an  air  of  gentleness  and  good  breeding  about  the  bird,  which  goes 
a  long  way  to  disarm  a  wanton  enemy,  and  one  studiously  hostile  there  could 
not  be.  Brighter  than  the  other  Thrushes  in  color,  and  marked  unmistakably 
with  heavy  spots  upon  breast  and  sides,  the  Wood  Thrush  is  further  dis- 
tinguished in  a  gifted  family  by  its  wonderful  voice.  The  chanting  of  the  W^ood 
Thrush  is  one  of  the  choice  things  in  bird  music.  In  the  freshness  of  the  undried 
morning  the  bird  mounts  a  low  limb  and  takes  up  a  part  in  the  grand  anthem 
of  nature,  whose  complementary  voices  may  be  lost  to  any  ear  less  fine  than  his. 
The  birds  listens  to  the  retreating  foot-steps  of  the  morning  stars,  and  sings  "Far 
azcay — far  azcay."  Zephyr  stirs  the  unfolding  leaves  with  his  boyish  alto  and  our 
matchless  tenor  responds,  "Come  to  mc — Here  in  glee — bide  a  zvec,"  in  cadences  of- 
surpassing  sweetness.  Altho  the  singer's  voice  is  rich  and  strong,  so  that  he  may 
be  heard  at  times  for  half  a  mile,  there  are  at  the  same  time  grace  notes  and 
finer  passages  which  only  a  near-by  listener  can  catch.  The  notes,  I  am  told 
by  musical  critics,  are,  of  all  bird  notes,  the  most  nearly  reducible  to  ordinary 
musical  notation  ;  but  the  peculiar  timbre  of  the  bird's  voice,  the  rich  vibrant 
quality  of  the  tones,  is  of  course  inimitable.  Their  utterance  at  morning  and 
evening  is  something  more  than  a  clever  musical  performance ;  it  is  worship. 

The  typical  situation  for  a  nest  is  upon  an  overarching  sapling,  as  shown  in 
the  nearest  illustration.  To  secure  a  romantic  site  stability  is  sometimes  sacri- 
ficed, and  the  nest,  loosely  saddled  upon  a  narrow  branch,  may  be  toppled  over 
by  the  wind  or  by  a  careless  hand.  At  other  times  the  nest  is  securely  lodged 
upon  the  forks  of  a  horizontal  limb  or  upright  sapling,  and  may  prove  very 
durable. 

909 


Upon  a  foundation  of  dry  leaves  are  laid  grass,  fibres,  and  weed-stems;  these 
are  held  in  place  by  a  matrix  of  mud  or  rotton  wood,  and  the  nest  lined  with 
rootlets  or  dead  leaves.  The  mud-working  must  be  disagreeable  business  for 
such  dainty  birds.  I  once  came  upon  a  mother  mason  at  her  task.  Her  bill  and 
breast  were  all  bedaubed  with  mud,  and  she  cut  such  a  sorry  figure  that  she 
fled  precipitately  upon  my  approach  and  would  not  come  back  again. 

According  to  Dr.  Jones  the  same  nest  is  occupied  during  successive  seasons, 
especially  if  securely  placed.  Repairs  are  made  each  year,  and  consist  either 
of  a  new  matrix  and  lining  or  of  the  latter  alone.  He  has  one  in  his  collection 
which  shows  four  distinct  yearly  additions. 

The  brooding  female  is  unusually  devoted  to  her  eggs,  and  altho  in  mani- 
fest terror  of  the  "infernal  machine"  thrust  up  close  to  her  nest,  bravely  returns 
to  her  charge  again  and  again. 


The  Chickadee 

By  Thomas  Nuttall 

This  familiar,  hardy  and  restless  little  bird  chiefly  inhabits  the  northern 
and  middle  States,  as  well  as  Canada.  In  the  latter  country  it  is  found  even  in 
winter  around  Hudson's  Bay. 

During  autumn  and  winter  families  of  these  birds  are  seen  chattering  and 
roving  through  the  woods,  busily  engaged  in  gleaning  food.  Along  with  the 
Creepers  and  Nuthatches  they  form  a  busy,  active  and  noisy  group,  whose 
manners,  habits  and  food  bring  them  together  in  a  common  pursuit.  Their  diet 
varies  with  the  season ;  for  besides  insects  and  their  eggs,  of  which  they  are 
particularly  fond,  in  September  they  leave  the  woods  and  assemble  familiarly  in 
our  orchard  and  gardens.  Sometimes  they  even  enter  cities  in  quest  of  food. 
•Large  seeds  of  many  kinds,  particularly  those  which  are  oily,  are  now  sought 
after.  Fat  of  various  kinds  is  also  greedily  eaten,  and  the  Chickadees  regularly 
watch  the  retreat  of  the  hog-killers  in  the  country  to  glean  up  the  fragments  of 
meat  which  adhere  to  the  places  where  the  carcasses  have  been  suspended.  At 
times  they  feed  upon  the  wax  of  the  candleberry  myrtle.  They  likewise  pick  up 
crumbs  near  the  houses,  and  search  the  weather-boards,  and  even  the  windowsills 
for  insect  prey.  They  are  particularly  fond  of  spiders  and  the  eggs  of  destructive 
moths,  especially  those  of  the  canker  worm,  which  they  greedily  devour  in  all 
stages  of  its  existence. 

In  winter,  when  hunger  is  satisfied,  they  will  descend  to  the  snow  and 
quench  their  thirst  by  swallowing  small  bits.  In  this  way  their  various  and  frugal 
meal  is  always  easily  supplied ;  atid  hardy  and  warmly  clad  in  light  and  very 
downy  feathers,  they  suffer  little  inconvenience  from  the  inclemency  of  the  sea- 
sons.    Their  roost  is  in  the  hollows  of  decayed  trees,   where  they  also  breed, 

mo 


making  a  soft  nest  of  moss,  hair  and  feathers,  and  laying  from  six  to  twelve 
eggs,  which  are  white,  with  sjjecks  of  hrown-red.  They  hegin  to  lay  ahout  the 
middle  or  close  of  April,  and  though  they  commonly  make  use  of  natural  or 
deserted  holes  of  the  woodpecker,  yet  they  frc(|uently  excavate  a  cavity  for  them- 
selves with  much  lahor.  The  first  brood  takes  wing  ahout  the  7th  of  10th  of 
June,  and  there  is  sometimes  a  second  hrood  toward  the  end  of  July.  The  y<iung, 
as  soon  as  fledged,  have  all  the  external  marks  of  the  adult,  the  head  is  equally 
hlack.  and  they  chatter  and  skip  ahout  with  all  the  agility  and  self-j)ossession  of 
their  parents,  who  appear  nevertheless  very  solicitous  for  their  safety. 

I'Vom  this  time  on  the  whole  family  continue  to  associate  together  thrcjugh 
the  autumn  and  winter.  They  seem  to  move  in  concert  from  tree  to  tree,  keeping 
up  a  continued  'tshc-dc-dc-dc-dc  and  'tshc-dc-dc-dc-dait,  preceded  hy  a  shrill 
whistle,  all  the  while  husily  engaged  picking  around  the  huds  and  branches,  hang- 
ing frf)iu  their  extremities  and  ])rocecding  often  in  reversed  ])osturc.  head  down- 
ward, like  so  many  tumblers.  l)rying  into  every  crevice  of  the  hark  and  searching 
round  the  roots  and  in  every  possible  retreat  of  their  insect  prey  or  its  larvt'e. 
If  th.e  object  chance  to  fall,  they  industriously  descend  to  the  ground  and  glean  it 
up  with  the  utmost  economy. 

Almost  the  only  note  of  this  bird  which  may  be.  called  a  song,  is  one  which 
is  frequently  heard  at  intervals  in  the  depth  of  the  forest,  or  from  the  orchard 
trees.  Although  more  frequently  uttered  in  spring,  it  is  now  and  then  whistled 
on  warm  days  even  in  winter;  it  may  be  heard,  in  fact,  in  every  month  of  the 
year.  It  consists  of  two.  or,  less  frequently,  three  clearly-whistled  and  rather 
melancholy  notes,  like  the  syllables  phcc-hcc,  not  drawled  like  the  song  of  the 
wood  Pewee.  and  sweeter  and  more  even  than  the  cry  of  the  Phoebe. 

The  Chickadee  is  found  in  summer  in  dry,  shady  and  secluded  woods,  but 
when  the  weather  becomes  cold,  and  as  early  as  October,  roving  families,  pressed 
by  necessity  and  failure  of  their  ordinary  insect  fare,  now  being  to  frequent 
orchards  and  gardens,  appearing  extremely  familiar,  hungry,  indigent,  but  in- 
dustrious. i)rying  with  restless  anxiety  into  every  cranny  of  the  bark  or  holes  in 
decayed  trees  after  dormant  insects,  spiders  and  larva;.  The  Chickadee  adds 
by  its  presence,  indomitable  action  and  chatter,  an  air  of  cheerfulness  to  the  silent 
and  dreary  winters  of  the  coldest  parts  of  Xorth  .America. 

The  Chickadee  is  very  generally  distributed  throughout  the  northern  part 
of  eastern  Xorth  .\merica.  Its  nest  is  built  as  far  south  as  Illinois  and  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  as  far  north  as  Labrador.  High  up  in  the  .Mleghany  Mountains  it 
nests  still  farther  south.  In  the  South  and  West  occur  closely  related  forms  with 
similar  habits. 


911 


Yellow-Throated    Toucan     {Ramphastos  erythroynchus 

Rhaniphostidae) 

By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

Length :     18  inches. 

The  Yellow-throated  Toucan,  a  large  billed  bird  found  in  tropical  America, 
bears  some  resemblance  to  the  hornbill  of  Asia  and  Africa.  The  most  striking 
feature  of  this  handsome  bird  is  the  monstrous  bill,  and  the  bird's  chief  mission 
seems  to  be  to  care  for  it,  as  it  frees  its  beak  from  every  stain  and  carefully  tucks 
it  away  among  its  feathers  or  rests  it  on  its  back  while  sleeping.  The  bill  seems 
entirely  out  of  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  bird,  but  it  is  of  a  light  honeycombed 
structure  and  is  not  so  heavy  as  it  appears.  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  bill 
masticates  the  food  since  the  bird  has  no  gizzard.  The  awkward  hopping  gait  is 
in  striking  contrast  to  the  easy  graceful  flight.  It  feeds  on  fruits  principally,  but 
eggs,  fish,  and  even  small  birds  may  enter  into  the  diet.  While  feeding  a  sentinel 
is  stationed  to  give  the  cry  "Toucano,"  from  which  the  name  is  derived.  Toucans 
live  in  flocks  in  forests,  nesting  in  hollow  trees.  These  birds  are  killed  not  only 
because  of  their  beautiful  plumage  but  also  as  food. 


?? 


"Old  Head  Hunter' 

By  Bert  G.  Hochwalt 

It  was  a  brilliant,  starry  night,  in  early  autumn.  A  full  moon  rode  high  in 
the  vaulted  heavens  and  shed  its  rich,  mellow  rays  over  fields  and  forests,  where, 
filtering  through  the  leaves  of  the  dark  and  silent  trees  it  cast  fantastic  splotches 
of  white  light  upon  the  woodland  paths.  The  chirp  of  crickets  and  the  monotonous 
drone  of  numerous  other  nocturnal  insects  still  filled  the  air,  while  the  occasional 
call  of  some  night  bird  startled  the  intruder  with  its  weird  and  mysterious 
sounds. 

During  a  lull  in  the  insect  serenade  there  came  floating  slowly  upon  the  crisp 
night  wind  the  hoarse,  discordant  hoot  of  a  great  horned  owl  from  somewhere  in 
the  distance.  Scarcely  audible  at  first,  it  rose  in  sound  and  volume  until  all 
the  furry  nightfolk  of  the  forest  scampered  in  terror  to  places  of  safety,  and 
well  they  might,  for  they  knew  the  prowess  and  hunting  ability  of  "Old  Head 
Hunter,"  as  the  folks  in  the  neighboring  village  called  this  wraith-likc  bird,  be- 
cause of  the  numerous  depredations  he  committed  in  their  poultry  yards  and 
dove  cotes ;  taking  only  the  heads  of  his  victims,  as  the  brains  were  the  tid-bits 
he  delighted  in.  Again  "Old  Head  Hunter"  was  preparing  to  exact  his  nightly 
toll  from  among  the  smaller  denizens  of  the  forest. 

In  almost  uncanny  silence,  on  swift  hawk-like  wings  he  came  sailing  through 
the  woodland  and  alighted  on  the  dead  branch  of  a  towering  oak,  from  where 
he  made  his  sallies  upon  his  unfortunate  victims.     A  deep-toned  "to-whoo-hoo- 

912 


YELLOW-THROATED  TOUCAN. 
'■'.  Life-sii-e 


uuMrtmo,  CHICAGO 


lio(}.  to-uhoo-lioo"!  that  souiuk-d  like  a  muftk-d  roll  of  llmiKkr  startled  the  furry 
folk,  antl  aj^'ain  sent  them  scampering  to  i)laces  of  safety.  But  one  poor  unfor- 
tunate little  mouse,  prohahly  a  bit  holder  than  the  rest,  ventured  too  far  from  its 
place  of  safety,  and  before  it  had  time  to  escape,  the  sharj)  claws  of  "<  )!,| 
Head  Hunter"'  had  sunk  into  its  back;  with  a  squeak  of  terror  the  moi 
borne  in  triumi)h  to  the  ilead  oak  limb,  where  the  great  horned  owl,  fur  .-^ucii 
"Old  Head  Hunter"'  was,  began  to  devour  his  victim.  With  his  powerful  beak 
he  ripped  the  head  from  the  body,  which  he  cast  to  the  ground.  Another  rip  and 
he  laid  bare  the  brains,  which  he  guljjcd  down  with  evident  relish. 

"Olil  Head  Hunter,"  unlike  the  rest  of  his  tribe,  was  not  content  with 
dt\ci:rirg  his  victims,  but  only  delighted  in  eating  their  brains,  so  that  he 
always  kept  up  a  relentless  attack  upon  quail,  grouse,  snipe,  rats,  .squirrels,  mice, 
chickens,  turkeys,  in  short  about  evcryting  he  could  kill.  His  nightly  toll  was 
between  ten  and  twenty  victims,  and  the  neighboring  villages,  unwilling  to  tamely 
submit  to  his  maraudings  upon  their  poultry  coops,  offered  rewards  for  his  body. 
But  "Old  Head  Hunter"  was  too  wary  for  all  them  and  invariably  eluded  their 
most  cunning  schemes  to  capture  or  to  kill  him. 

In  another  i)art  of  the  forest  all.  was  serene  and  calm.  .\  break  among 
the  stately  trees  permitted  a  flood  of  rich  yellow  light  to  silver  tlie  ground.  In 
this  spot  a  mother  rabliit  was  giving  her  half-erown  children  their  evening 
exercise.  Running  about,  gamboling  over  the  rich  carjiet  of  fallen  leaves,  the 
young  cotton-tails,  probably  soon  to  be  food  lor  the  hunters'  guns,  w^re  having, 
oblivious  to  all  impending  danger,  a  delightful  time.  Suddenly  a  great  ominous 
shadow  poised  over  them.  The  mother  rabbit  squeaked  her  call  of  alarm,  but  too 
late!  A  short  scuffle,  a  clapping  of  huge  wings  and  one  of  her  little  family  fell 
victim  to  the  ravenous  maw  of  "Old  Head  Hunter,'"  who  sailed  silently  back 
to  his  perch  to  devour  his  latest  prize.  Where  only  a  few  minutes  before  peace 
and  freedom  dwelt,  now  a  poor  mother  was  mourning  the  loss  of  one  of  her 
voung,  powerless  to  avenge  its  untimely  death.  The  brains  of  the  young  rabbit 
only  served  to  whet  "Old  Head  Hunter's"  appetite,  and  with  another  long  and 
weird  hoot  he  was  off  in  search  of  another  victim,  which  this  time  happened  to  be 
a  large  rat  that  momentarily  exposed  himself  as  he  ran  across  a  moonlit  space  near 
a  farm  yard.  In  a  few  seconds  the  rodent  was  beheaded  and  the  brains  devoured. 
A  pigeon  straggler  in  a  dove  cote  near  the  scene  of  the  last  tragedy  wai  the 
next  to  fall  a  prey  to  the  rapacious  bird  of  the  night.  "Old  Head  Hunter"  was 
fairly  gloating  in  blood.     The  terror  of  the  woods  was  in  his  glory. 

Having  feasted  on  pigeon  brain,  "Old  Head  Hunter,"  not  wishing  to  take 
any  more  chances  in  such  close  proximity  to  a  human  habitation,  sailed  back 
toward  the  woods  in  search  of  another  variety  of  brain  special.  He  had  not 
long  to  wait. 

In  a  marshy  bog  that  bordered  his  domain,  a  small  flock  of  ducks  had 
paused  for  rest  and  food  on  their  long  migration  southward.  His  sharp  ears 
caught  their  squawks  of  contentedness  as  they  settled  for  the  night;  his  piercing 

913 


eyes  discerned  them  among  the  reeds  and  swooping  with  a  rush  he  descended 
upon  the  flock  and  his  sharp  claws  tore  into  the  soft  back  of  a  mallard  duck. 
With  a  sqawk  of  terror  the  unfortunate  bird  was  borne  to  ''Old  Head  Hunter's"' 
perch,  where  he  speedily  went  the  way  of  his  predecessors. 

Just  as  "rosy-fingered  dawn"  was  tinting  the  eastern  sky  the  Great  Horned 
Owl  disposed  of  his  last  victim,  a  song  sparrow  that  had  stirred  out  a  little  too 
early.  As  the  darkness  of  the  forest  began  rapidly  giving  way  to  the  grey 
twilight  of  the  early  morning,  he  slowly  and  silently  sailed  away  to  his  home, 
somewhere  in  the  depths  of  the  tamarack  swamp,  where  he  still  lives  unmolested 
and  unavenged,  for  he  has  builded  wisely,  as  the  approach  to  his  castle,  owing 
to  the  tangled  undergrowth  and  insecure  footing,  is  almost  impossible  for  human 
pursuers. 


Ruby -Crowned    Kinglet  {Regulus  Calendula) 

By  W.  Leon  Dawson 
Range. — North  America  at  large,  south  to  Guatemala,  north  to  the  Arctic 
Coast,  breeding  chiefly  north  of  the  United  States  and  in  the  higher  ranges  of 
the  West. 

"Where's  your  kingdom,  little  king? 
Where's  the  land  you  call  your  own? 
Where's  your  palace  and  your  throne? 
Fluttering  lightly  on  the  wing 
Through  the  blossom  world  of  May, 
Whither  lies  your  royal  way? 
Where's  the  realm  that  owns  your  sway. 
Little  King?"- 
Dr.  Henry  Van  Dyke  is  the  questioner,  and  the  little  bird  has  a  ready  answer 
for  him.     It  is  "Labrador"  in  May,  and 

"Where  the  cypress'  vivid  green 
And  the  dark  magnolia's  sheen 
Weave  a  shelter  round  my  home" 
in  October.     I'ut  under  tlie  incitement  of  the  poet's  playful  banter  the  Kinglet 
enlarges  his  claim : 

"Never  king  by  right  divine 
Ruled  a  richer  realm  than  mine ! 
What  are  lands  and  golden   crowns, 
Armies,  fortresses  and  towns. 
Jewels,  scepters,  robes  and  rings, 
What  are  these  to  song  and  wings? 
Everywhere  that  I  can  fly 
There  I  own  the  earth  and  sky ; 
Everywhere  that  I  can  sing 
There  I'm  happy  as  a  king." 

914 


And  sun-ly  iIutc  is  no  om-  wIki  laii  iniit  this  dainty  nionaiili  in  oni-  of 
his  ha|)|)y  ninods  without  payin}^  instant  hoinaj^r.  \\\>  iniptrium  is  that  of  the 
spirit,  and  those  who  boast  a  soul  ahovc*  the  elod  must  swear  feahy  to  this  most 
dehcatc  expression  of  the  creative  Inlinite.  tliis  thought  of  ( iod  made  hnninous 
and  vocal,  and  own  him  kinjj  by  rij^ht  divine. 

it  was  only  yesterday  I  saw  him,  I'"aster  day.  The  significant  dawn  was 
stiujj^linf;  with  jj;reat  masses  of  heajjed-up  clouds,  the  incredulities  an<l  fears 
of  the  world's  ni^ht ;  but  now  and  again  the  invincible  sun  found  some  tiny 
rift  and  poured  a  flood  of  tender  <jold  upon  a  favored  spot  where  stood  some 
solitary  tree  or  expectant  sylvan  company.  Along  the  river  bank  all  was  still. 
There  were  no  signs  of  spring  save  for  the  modest  springing  violet  and  the  pious 
buckeye,  shaking  its  latc-prisoncd  fronds  to  the  morning  air,  and  tidily  setting  in 
order  its  manifold  array  of  I-laster  candles.  The  oak  trees  were  gray  and  hushed, 
and  the  swamp  elms  held  their  peace  until  the  fortunes  of  the  morning  should  be 
decided.  Suddenly  from  down  the  ri\er  path  there  came  a  tiny  burst  of  angel 
music,  the  peerless  song  of  the  Ruby-crown.  Pure,  ethereal,  without  hint  of 
earthly  dross  or  sadness,  canu'  those  lini])i(l.  welling  notes,  the  sweetest  and  the 
gladdest  ever  sung — at  least  by  those  who  have  not  suffered.  It  was  not,  indeed, 
the  greeting  of  earth  to  the  risen  Lord,  but  rather  the  ;mniiiui:ition  of  the  glorious 
fact  by  heaven's  own  appointed  herald. 

The  Ruby-crowned  Kinglet  has  something  of  the  nervousness  and  vivacity 
of  the  typical  Wren.  It  moves  restlessly  from  twig  to  twig,  Hirting  its  w'ings 
with  a  motion  too  (|uick  for  the  eye  to  follow,  and  fre(|uently.  uttering  a  titter 
of  alarm,  chit-tit  or  chit-it-it.  During  migrations  the  birds  swarm  through  the 
tree-tops  like  Warblers,  but  are  oftener  found  singly  or  in  small  companies  in 
thickets  or  open  clusters  of  saplings.  In  such  situations  they  exhibit  more  or  less 
curiosity,  and  if  one  keeps  reasonably  still  he  is  almost  sure  to  be  inspected  from 
a  distance  not  exceeding  four  or  five  feet.  It  is  here  too  that  the  males  are 
found  singing  in  spring.  The  bird  often  begins  sotto  voce  with  two  or  three 
high  squeaks,  as  though  trying  to  get  the  pitch  down  to  the  range  of  mortal  ears 
before  he  gives  his  full  voice.  The  core  of  the  song  is  something  like  "tci\.',  tew, 
tew,  tew,  sweet  to  eat,  swcet-oo  eat,"  the  last  phrases  being  given  with  a  rising 
inflection,  and  with  an  accent  of  raxishing  sweetness.  The  tones  are  so  pure 
that  they  may  readily  be  whistled  by  the  human  listener,  and  a  niusical  contest 
provoked  in  which  one  is  glad  to  come  out  second  best. 

I  once  saw  a  Kinglet  in  a  royal  mood.  .\  young  Ruby-crown  was  carolling, 
and  (|uite  prettily,  in  the  lower  jjranchcs  of  an  old  oak  tree  hard  by.  I  was  watch- 
him  closely  to  see  if  I  might  catch  a  glint  of  red.  when  uj)  darted  an  old  rival 
and  flashed  a  jewel  so  dazzling  as  to  fairly  smite  the  eye.  Tiie  youngling  felt 
the  rebuke  keenly,  and  retired  in  great  confusion.  It  seems  that  when  the  bird 
is  angry  it  has  the  power  of  erecting  its  crest  and  so  unveiling  the  full  glory  of 
the  rubv  crown. 


91; 


The    Canada    Grouse     {Branta    Canadensis) 
By  Seth  Mindwell 

Length:     15  inches. 

The  Canada  Grouse,  also  called  the  Spruce  Partridge,  frequents  the  ever- 
green forests  and  swamps  and  the  shrubby  areas  of  British  America  east  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  in  Alaska  it  is  a  resident  of  the  Pacific  coast.  In  its 
southern  flights  it  seldom  passes  beyond  the  latitude  of  the  northern  portion  of 
New  England  and  Minnesota. 

This  bird  is  an  interesting  member  of  the  bird  family  Tetraonidae,  which  also 
includes  the  birds  variously  called  bob-white,  quail  and  partridge,  the  ptarmi- 
gans and  the  prairie  hen.  The  family  includes  about  two  hundred  species,  about 
one-half  of  which  belong  to  the  Old  World.  There  arc  twenty-five  distinct 
species  of  the  subfamily  of  grouse.  .  These  are  practically  confined  to  the  higher 
latitudes  of  the  northern  hemisphere  and  are  strictly  speaking  non-migratory.  In 
fact,  nearly  all  the  birds  of  this  family  are  resident  throughout  the  year  in  the 
localities  where  they  are  found. 

They  are  terrestrial  in  their  habits,  and  when  frightened  they  usually  depend 
on  hiding  in  places  where  their  dull  colors  will  least  attract  attention,  but  they 
will,  occasionally,  fly  into  trees  when  flushed. 

The  Canada  Grouse,  like  all  the  related  species,  is  a  bird  of  rapid  flight.  The 
feathers  of  their  small  wings  are  stiff,  causing  a  whirring  sound  during  flight. 
The  male  during  the  mating  season  gives  a  great  deal  of  attention  to  his  appear- 
ance. He  is  quite  black  in  general  color  and  more  or  less  barred  with  white  un- 
derneath and  above  with  gray  or  reddish  brown.  The  female  is  not  quite  as  large 
as  the  male,  and  is  not  as  dark  in  color.  Above  the  eye  of  the  male  there  is  a 
small  area  of  bare  skin,  which  is  a  bright  vermilion  color. 

These  gentle  and  retiring  birds  mate  in  the  early  spring  and  remain  together 
through  the  breeding  season.  Captain  Bendire  states  that  he  has  good  reason 
for  believing  that  the  mating  may  last  for  more  than  one  season,  as  he  has  fre- 
quently found  a  pair,  in  the  depth  of  the  winter,  when  no  other  individuals  of  the 
same  species  were  near.  The  nest,  consisting  of  loosely  arranged  blades  of  grass 
and  a  few  stalks  and  twigs,  is  built  by  the  hen  on  a  slight  elevation  of  ground, 
usually  under  the  low  branches  of  a  spruce  tree. 

The  number  of  eggs  varies  greatly.  Mr.  Ridgway  says  that  they  vary  in  num- 
ber from  nine  to  sixteen.  The  eggs  also  vary  greatly  in  color  from  a  pale,  creamy 
buff  through  various  shades  of  brownish  buff,  and  arc  irregularly  spotted  with  a 
deeper  brown,  though  occasionally  they  are  spotless. 

During  the  spring  and  summer  months  the  food  of  the  Canada  Grouse  con- 
sists very  largely  of  the  berries  of  plants  belonging  to  the  Pleath  family,  such  as 
the  blueberry,  the  huckleberry  and  the  bcarberry,  as  well  as  the  tender  buds  of  the 
spruce.     In  the  winter  it  feeds  almost  entirely  on  these  buds,  and  the  needle-like 

916 


leaves  of  the  spruce,  the  fir  or  the  tamarack  trees.    At  times  they  seem  to  show 
a  preference  for  certain  trees,  and  will  nearly  strip  the  foliage  from  them. 

As  a  food  for  man  their  flesh  is  far  from  satisfactory.  It  is  dark-colored 
and  stron^'ly  flavored  with  the  odor  of  their  natural  food.  However,  certain 
Indian  tribes  arc  said  to  relish  them  and  hunt  them  extensively. 

Mr.  Bishop,  in  "Forest  and  Stream,"  relates  the  folluwinjj  very  interesting 
account  of  the  strutting  of  the  male  Canada  (Irousc  when  in  captivity.  He  says, 
"I  will  describe  as  nearly  as  I  can  his  conduct  and  attitude  while  strutting:  The 
tail  stands  almost  erect,  the  win.^s  are  slightly  raised  from  the  body  atid  a  little 
ilrooped.  the  head  is  still  well  up,  and  the  feathers  of  breast  and  throat  are  raised 
and  standing  out  in  regular  rows,  which  press  the  feathers  of  the  nape  and  hind 
neck  well  back,  forming  a  smooth  kind  of  ca|ie  on  the  hack  of  the  neck.  This 
smooth  cape  contrasts  beautifully  with  the  rufUled  black  and  white  feathers  of  the 
throat  and  forebrcnst.  The  red  comb  over  each  eye  is  enlarged  until  the  two 
nearly  meet  over  the  top  of  the  head.  This  comb  the  bird  is  able  to  enlarge  or 
reduce  at  will,  andw  bile  he  is  strutting  the  expanded  tail  is  moved  from  side  to 
side.  The  two  center  feathers  do  not  move,  but  each  side  expands  and  con- 
tracts alternately  with  each  step  the  bird  walks.  The  movement  of  the  tail  pro- 
duces a  peculiar  rustling,  like  that  of  silk.  This  attitude  gives  him  a  very  dignified 
and  even  conceited  air.  He  tries  to  attract  attention  in  every  possible  way,  by 
flying  from  the  ground  up  on  a  perch,  and  back  to  the  ground,  making  all  the  noise 
be  can  in  so  doing.  Then  he  will  thump  some  hard  substance  with  his  bill.  I 
have  had  him  fly  up  on  my  shoulder  and  thump  my  collar.  .At  this  season  he  is 
very  bold,  and  will  scarcely  keep  enough  out  of  the  way  to  avoid  being  stepped  on. 
He  will  sometimes  sit  with  his  breast  almost  touching  the  earth,  his  feathers  erect 
as  in  strutting,  and  making  peculiar  nodding  and  circular  motions  of  the  head 
from  side  to  side ;  he  will  remain  in  this  position  two  or  three  minutes  at  a  time. 
He  is  a  most  beautiful  bird,  and  shows  by  his  actions  that  he  is  perfectly  aware 
of  the  fact." 

There  seems  to  be  a  diversity  of  opinion  regarding  the  method  followed  by 
this  grouse  to  produce  the  drumming  sound.  Mr.  Everett  Smith,  as  quoted  by 
Captain  Rcndire.  says,  "The  Canada  Grouse  performs  its  drumming  upon  the 
trunk  of  a  standing  tree  of  rather  small  size,  preferably  one  that  is  inclined  from 
the  perpendicular,  and  in  the  following  manner:  Commencing  near  the  base  of 
the  tree  selected,  the  l)ird  flutters  upward  with  somewhat  slow  progress,  but 
rapidly  beating  wings,  which  produce  the  drumming  sound.  Having  thus  ascended 
fifteen  or  twenty  feet  it  glides  quietly  on  the  wing  to  the  ground  and  repeats  the 
maneuver."  According  to  this  and  other  authorities  a  tree,  usually  spruce,  hav- 
ing a  diameter  of  about  six  inches  and  inclining  at  an  angle  of  about  fifteen  degrees, 
is  selected.  Frequently  these  trees  are  used  so  extensively  and  for  so  long  a  time 
that  the  bark  on  the  upper  side  will  be  much  worn.  Other  authorities,  and  among 
them  Indians,  who  live  in  the  regions  frequented  by  this  grouse,  claim  that  the 
drumming  is  produced  while  flying  from  the  branches  of  a  tree  to  the  ground, 
repeating  the  operation  several  times  in  succession,     .\nother  authority  describes 

917 


the  drumming  of  the  male  as  follows:  "After  strutting  back  and  forth  for  a  few 
minutes,  the  male  flew  straight  up,  as  high  as  the  surrounding  trees,  about  four- 
teen feet ;  here  he  remained  stationary  an  instant,  and  while  on  suspended  wing 
did  the  drumming  with  the  wings,  resembling  distant  thunder,  meanwhile  drop- 
ping down  slowly  to  the  spot  from  where  he  started,  to  repeat  the  same  thing 
over  and  over  again." 

The  Canada  Grouse  is  easily  domesticated  and  would  make  an  interesting  and 
amiable  bird  pet,  because  of  their  peculiar  habits. 


The  Brown  Thrush  or  Thrasher  the  King 

of  Singers 

By  W.  H.  Pomeroy,  Stamford 

As  I  was  sitting  on  a  stump  by  the  beautiful  Rippowam,  one  Sunday  after- 
noon early  in  May,  listening  to  the  purling  of  the  waters  as  they  hurried  toward 
Long  Island  Sound,  suddenly  to  my  ears  came  an  exquisite  melody  filled  with 
joyous  gladsomeness,  gurgling,  trilling,  warbling,  lilting,  rollicking  along  in  an 
abandoned  fashion.  Recognizing  the  singer  by  his  song,  I  made  my  way  through 
the  brush  and  soon  reached  an  opening,  across  which,  perched  on  the  tip  of  a 
forty  foot  tree,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  joyous  fanfare  of  melody,  sat  a  beautiful 
specimen  of  North  America's  famous  song  bird,  the  brown  thrush  or  "thrasher." 

South  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line  you  will  be  told  that  the  mocking  bird 
is  the  world's  most  famous  singer.  I  have  listened  to  him  in  his  gilded  cage 
and  in  his  native  wilds,  and  I  note  this  difiference  between  him  and  his  northern 
cousin.  When  one  has  listened  to  the  mocking  bird  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes, 
one  has  heard  about  all  of  his  repertoire.  Listen  to  the  brown  thrush  for  half 
an  hour  today,  and  again  tomorrow,  and  again  the  day  after,  and  you  will  have 
only  just  begun  to  appreciate  his  marvelous  versatility  as  an  imitator  of  other 
birds,  to  say  nothing  of  hi?;  own  variations  which  he  adds  ad  libitum,  never  seem- 
ing to  tire. 

In  the  order  of  the  excellence  of  their  singing,  the  brown  thrush  should  be 
accorded  first  place,  while  his  modest  little  cousin,  the  catbird,  easily  takes  second 
place,  and  the  mocking  bird  stands  third  on  the  list.  All  three  are  "mockers" 
and  seem  to  be  distant  cousins.  They  have  many  characteristics  in  general.  The 
brown  thrush  however  has  one  trait  that  dififerentiatcs  him  from  the  other  two, 
a  characteristic  which  concerns  his  domestic  relations  and  is  not  generally  known 
even  by  bird  lovers.  In  fact  I  have  seen  no  reference  to  it  in  the  difi'erent  books 
that  I  have  consulted  on  the  subject. 

For  several  seasons  I  was  puzzled  by  the  name  "thrasher"  given  to  him  by 
country  people.  Numerous  inquiries  elicited  nothing  by  way  of  explanation, 
except  that  one  bewhiskered  old  fellow  said,  "They  thrash  the  ground,  and  that 

918 


is  why  \vf  call  tlifiii  thrashers."  This  soiiiKk-d  "lishy"  to  inc.  and  was  not  satisfv- 
\ng.  I  resolved  to  ohserve  personally  and  larcfnlly  The  result  of  my  ohserva- 
tions  may  he  of  interest  to  your  readers. 

When  making  love  to  his  lady  fair  he  selects  a  level  hit  of  j^roun<l  closely 
screened  by  overhan^'inj:^  hushes.  IVom  this  he  removes  all  leaves  and  ^rass 
and  ruhhish  sweepiufj  the  j)lace  clean.  If  conditions  are  favorahle  he  will  some- 
times prepare  two  or  three  of  these  thrashing  places  adjacent  to  one  antjthcr. 
Hither  he  calls  his  sweetheart,  and  on  her  arrival  he  hegins  a  grotesfjue  dance, 
ho|)pin}^  and  cavorting;  in  a  fantastic  manner,  and.  jtnnpin}^  up  a  foot  or  two,  he 
strikes  the  earth  with  cupped  wince's,  making^  a  sound  out  of  all  proportion  to  his 
size.  This  may  he  distinctly  heard  at  a  distance  of  from  two  hundred  to  three 
hundred  feet. 

There  is  douhtless  some  analogy  hctween  this  performance,  the  strutting  of 
the  turkey  gohbler  and  the  drunmiing  of  the  male  grouse.  It  seems  to  be  an 
attempt  to  charm  his  lady  fair.  I  do  not  know  that  a  full-grown  man  could 
succeed  in  witnessing  it.  hut  1  am  sure  that  a  small,  barefoot  boy  could  do  so. 
lUit  any  one  may  hear  his  marvellous  song. 

It  should  he  remembered,  however,  that  the  i)eriod  during  which  the  thrush 
sings  is  brief  indeed,  covering  in  Xew  Kngland  scarcely  more  than  two  or  three 
weeks  in  May.  The  catbird  sings  longer.  He  may  he  heard  on  almost  any 
morning,  w-elcoming  the  sunrise  with  his  sweet  and  joyful  music.  Again  in  the 
late-  afteriioon  he  delights  in  speeding  the  .jiarting  day  with  his  t,dorious  song. 
He  often  continues  to  sing  through  June  and  even  into  July. 

He  is  a  willing  assistant  to  the  maternal  catbird,  acconi|)anying  her  on  all 
her  journeys  in  search  for  food  for  their  hungry  family,  yet  he  is  a  happy-go- 
lucky  sort  of  fellow  ;  good  cheer  is  his  middle  name.  On  his  account  the  world 
is  a  brighter  place  to  live  in.  Human  husbands  might  well  learn  a  lesson  from 
him. 

The  paternal  thrush  takes  life  more  seriously,  hrom  the  time  when  the 
first  brown  splotched  eggs  are  laid  in  the  nest  under  the  birch  tree,  he  devotes 
himself  to  the  mother  thrush,  and  later  on  to  the  little  thrushes,  not  even  taking 
time  to  sing,  and  you  will  not  have  the  privilege  of  again  hearing  his  wonderful 
music  until  next  year.  This  may  be  the  reason  why  so  few  become  acquainted 
with  him  and  learn  to  know  and  love  his  wonderful  song.  He  is  also  one  of  the 
first  birds  to  migrate  to  the  south,  leaving  us  as  soon  as  the  young  are  strong 
enough  to  imdertake  the  journey. 


When  waves  of  Summer  heat  roll  o'er  the  land. 

Is  Nature  robed  in  coolest,  freshest  green ; 
But  when  cold  nights  and   frosts  are  near  at  hand. 

Her  raiment  is  the  brightest  to  be  seen. 

Emma  Peirce. 


919 


The  Great  Blue  Heron 

By  John  James  Audubon 

Few  of  our  waders  are  more  interesting  than  the  birds  of  the  Heron  family. 
Their  contours  and  movements  are  always  graceful,  if  not  elegant.  Look  on  the 
one  that  stands  near  the  margin  of  the  pure  stream !  See  his  reflection  dipping 
as  it  were  into  the  smooth  water,  the  bottom  of  which  it  might  reach  had  it 
not  to  contend  with  the  numerous  boughs  of  these  magnificent  trees !  Flow  calm, 
how  silent,  how  grand  is  the  scene !  The  tread  of  the  tall  bird  himself  no  one 
hears,  so  carefully  does  he  place  his  foot  on  the  moist  ground,  cautiously  sus- 
pending it  for  a  while  at  each  step  of  his  progress.  Now  his  golden  eye  glances 
over  the  surrounding  objects,  in  svirveying  which  he  takes  advantage  of  the 
full  stretch  of  his  graceful  neck.  Satisfied  that  no  danger  is  near  he  lays  his 
head  on  his  shoulder,  allows  the  feathers  of  his  breast  to  droop  and  patiently 
waits  the  approach  of  his  finny  prey.  You  might  imagine  what  you  see  to  be 
the  statue  of  a  bird,  so  motionless  it  is.  But  now  he  moves ;  he  has  taken  a 
silent  step  and  with  great  care  he  advances ;  slowly  does  he  raise  his  head  from 
his  shoulders,  and  now  what  a  sudden  start !  His  formidable  bill  has  transfixed 
a  perch,  which  he  beats  to  death  on  the  ground.  See  with  what  difficulty  he 
gulps  it  down  his  capacious  throat,  and  then  opens  his  broad  wings  and  slowly 
flies  to  another  station. 

The  Great  Blue  Fleron  is  met  with  in  every  part  of  the  Union.  Although 
more  abundant  in  the  low  lands  of  our  Atlantic  Coast  it  is  not  uncommon  in 
the  country  west  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains.  It  have  found  it  in  every  State 
in  which  I  have  traveled,  as  well  as  in  all  our  territories.  It  is  well  known 
from  Louisiana  to  Maine,  but  seldom  occurs  farther  east  than  Prince  Edward 
Island,  in  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  not  a  Heron  of  any  kind  did  I  see 
or  hear  of  in  Newfoundland  or  Labrador.  Westward  I  believe  it  reaches  to 
the  very  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

It  is  a  hardy  bird  and  bears  the  extremes  of  temperature  surprisingly, 
being  in  its  tribe  what  the  Passenger  Pigeon  is  in  the  family  of  Doves.  It  is 
not  rare  in  the  middle  States,  though  more  plentiful  to  the  west  and  south  of 
Pennsylvania. 

Extremely  suspicious  and  shy,  this  bird  is  ever  on  the  lookout.  Its  sight 
is  as  acute  as  that  of  any  Falcon,  and  it  can  hear  at  a  considerable  distance, 
so  that  it  is  enabled  to  mark  with  precision  different  objects  it  sees,  and  to  judge 
with  accuracy  of  the  sounds  which  it  hears.  Unless  under  very  favorable  cir- 
cumstances it  is  almost  hopeless  to  attempt  to  approach  it.  I  have  seen  many 
so  wary  that  on  seeing  a  man  at  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  they  would  take 
to  wing,  and  the  report  of  a  gun  forces  one  off  his  grounds  from  a  distance  at 
which  you  would  think  he  could  not  be  alarmed. 

The  Blue  Heron  feeds  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  as  well  as  in  the  dusk  and 
dawn  and  even  at  night  when  the  weather  is  clear,  his  appetite  alone  dctcnnining 

920 


liis  actiuus  III  till-  n-iif.  t  .  Win  I  am  certain  that  when  (hslurhed  during,'  dark 
nights  it  ftfls  hcwildt-rcd  and  ahghts  as  soon  as  possible.  When  jjassing  from 
one  pari  of  the  country  to  another  at  a  (hstance  the  case  is  dilTerent.  and  on 
such  occasions  they  fly  at  night  high  above  the  trees,  continuini,'  their  movements 
in  a  regular  manner. 

1  he  crjnimcncement  of  the  nesting  season  ni  the  Circat  Blue  Heron  varies 
according  to  the  latitude,  from  the  beginning  of  March  to  the  middle  of  June. 
In  I'lorida  it  takes  place  about  the  first  of  these  periods,  in  the  middle  States 
about  the  15th  of  May,  and  in  Maine  a  month  later. 

It  is  at  the  approach  of  this  period  only  that  these  birds  associate  in  pairs, 
they  being  gejicrally  quite  solitary  at  all  other  times.  E.xcept  during  the  nesting 
season  each  individual  seems  to  secure  for  itself  a  certain  district  as  a  feeding 
ground,  giving  chase  to  every  intruder  of  its  own  species.  At  such  times  they 
also  repose  singly,  for  the  most  part  roosting  on  trees,  although  sometimes  taking 
their  station  on  the  ground  in  the  midst  of  a  wide  marsh,  so  that  they  may  be 
secure  from  the  approach  of  man.  This  unsocial  temper  pro1)ably  arises  from 
the  desire  of  securing  a  certain  abundance  of  food,  of  which  each  bird  requires  a 
large  quantity. 

The  nest  of  the  Blue  Heron  is  large  and  Hat,  externally  composed  of  dry 
sticks  and  matted  with  weeds  and  mosses  to  a  considerable  thickness.  \\  hen 
the  trees  are  large  and  convenient  you  may  see  several  nests  on  the  same  tree. 
Three  eggs  are  laid  in  the  nest.  They  are  very  small  compared  with  the  size  of 
the  bird,  measuring  only  two  and  a  half  by  one  and  a  half  inches.  They  are  of 
a  dull  bluish  white  color,  without  spots,  and  of  a  regular  oval  form. 

The  male  and  female  sit  alternately,  receiving  food  from  each  other,  their 
mutual  affection  being  as  great  as  it  is  toward  their  young,  which  are  provided 
for  so  abundantly  that  it  is  not  uncommon  to  find  the  nest  containing  a  surplus 
of  fish  and  other  food. 

As  the  young  grow  older  they  are  less  frequently  fed,  although  still  as 
copiously  supplied  whenever  opportunity  offers.  But  now  and  then  I  have 
observed  them,  when  the  nests  were  low,  calling  for  food  in  vain.  The  quantity 
which  they  now  require  is  so  great  that  all  the  exertions  of  the  old  birds  appear 
at  times  to  be  insufficient  to  satisfy  their  voracious  appetites.  They  do  not  pro- 
vide for  themselves  until  fully  able  to  fly.  when  their  parents  chase  them  off  and 
force  them  to  shift  as  they  can. 

This  species  takes  three  years  in  attaining  maturity,  and  even  after  that 
period  it  still  increases  in  size  and  weight.  When  just  hatched  the  young  birds 
have  a  very  uncouth  appearance,  the  legs  and  neck  being  very  long  as  well  as 
the  bill.  By  the  end  of  a  week  the  head  and  neck  are  sparingly  covered  WMth 
long  tufts  of  silky  down,  of  a  dark  gray  color,  and  the  body  shows  young 
feathers,  the  quills  large  with  soft  blue  sheaths.  At  the  end  of  four  weeks  the 
body  and  wings  are  well  covered  with  feathers  of  a  dark  slate  color,  broadly 
margined  with  brownish-red  ;  the  bill  has  grown  wonderfully,  the  legs  are  quite 

021 


strong  and  the  birds  are  able  to  stand  erect  on  the  nest  or  on  the  objects  near  it. 

They  are  now  seldom  fed  oftener  than  once  a  day,  as  if  their  parents  were 
intent  on  teaching  them  that  abstinence  without  which  it  would  often  be  difficult 
for  them  to  subsist  in  after  life.  At  the  age  of  six  or  seven  weeks  they  fly  off, 
and  at  once  go  in  search  of  food,  each  by  itself.  These  birds  feed  on  fish,  frogs, 
lizards,  snakes,  shrews,  meadow  mice  and  other  animals. 

The  Great  Blue  Heron  occurs  throughout  North  America  south  of  the 
Arctic  regions.  It  extends  through  the  West  Indies  and  the  northern  part  of 
South  America.    It  winters  from  the  middle  States  southward. 


The  Habits  of  the  Wilson's  Phalarope 

(Phalaropus  tricolor) 
By  F.  M.  Woodruff 

The  family  Phalaropodidse  has  a  very  restricted  membership,  comprising 
only  three  species,  two  of  which  are  found  principally  along  the  sea  coasts  of 
the  Northern  Hemisphere.  Wilson's  Phalarope,  unlike  its  relatives,  is  distinctly 
an  American  bird.  Its  range  is  chiefly  inland,  extending  from  the  Mississippi 
Valley  and  Great  Lake  Region  westward  and  north  into  the  British  provinces. 

Few  persons  aside  from  those  who  are  closely  in  touch  with  Nature  can  claim 
even  a  passing  acquaintance  with  this  beautiful  creature,  the  Phalarope.  Its 
soft,  delicate  plumage  consists  of  various  shades  of  chestnut,  black,  gray  and 
white,  giving  an  elegant  and  symmetrical  appearance  to  the  bird,  which  is  equaled 
only  by  its  graceful  and  gentle  demeanor.  Fortunate  is  he  who  can  survive  an 
attack  from  mosquitoes  and  venture  among  the  mossy  bogs  and  quagmires  to 
study  the  Phalaropes  in  their  nature  haunts.  After  such  a  visit  one  can  scarcely 
refrain  from  admiring  their  unsuspicious  and  peaceful  conduct.  Well  do  I  re- 
member my  initial  experience  with  this  little  shore  'bird.  It  is  only  one  of  the 
many  anecdotes  which  are  jotted  down  in  the  note  book  of  the  field  ornithologist, 
but  it  formed  a  vivid  impression  upon  my  mind.  In  company  with  a  friend  I 
was  traversing  a  prairie  marsh,  near  Chicago,  where  bobolinks  and  meadow  larks 
abounded.  Our  destination  was  a  dense  copse,  resorted  to  annually  by  warblers 
and  flycatchers  during  the  breeding  season.  We  were  admiring  the  aerial  per- 
formance of  a  marsh  hawk,  when  we  were  greeted  on  either  side  by  a  male 
Phalarope  and  a  pair  of  Bartram's  sandpipers. 

Both  species  were  entirely  new  to  us  in  the  wild  state,  and  so  complete  was 
this  surprise  that  we  were  unable  to  account  for  their  sudden  and  unexpected 
appearance.  The  sandpipers  hovered  about  on  quivering  wings,  continually 
uttering  their  long-drawn-out  plaintive  yet  melodious  whistle. 

The  Phalarope  displayed  no  less  an  amount  of  uneasiness  as  he  darted  back 
and  forth  in  an  undulating  manner.  His  voice  was  a  feeble  "onk.  onk,"  and 
lacked  the  distinctness  of  the  Bartram's  clear  whistle,  which  was  audible  at  the 

922 


§"?  = 

Co'/ 

**  T     C 

?  ~  c/. 

~  o'  ~ 
•so    — 


distance  ul  half  a  iiiilc.  Il  was  aboiil  llic  iniiMlc  ul  June-,  rather  a  late  date  for 
finding  eggs  of  either  riialarojH.'  or  sandpiper,  and  after  an  extensive  search  we 
abandoned  the  place,  baflled  in  our  atteiu])ts  to  discover  either  nest  or  ycnuig. 

Svveral  years  later,  while  in  North  Dakota.  I  formed  a  more  extensive  ac- 
cjuaintance  with  Wilson's  I'halarope.  an<l  ha<l  the  pleasure  of  meeting  not  only  the 
male,  hut  his  better  half.  Contrary  to  the  laws  of  Nature  in  general  regarding 
other  families  of  the  feathered  congregation,  the  l'halar(jpes  possess  peculiar 
characteristics  decidedly  their  own.  The  female  is  superior  in  size  and  more  bril- 
liantly colored  than  her  mate.  She  also  shirks  the  domestic  tasks  so  far  as  her 
sex  i)ermits,  and  the  household  responsibilities  are  assumed  by  the  male.  Mrs. 
IMialarope  does  the  courting,  displaying  her  plumage  to  the  best  advantage  before 
the  shy  and  indifferent  male,  who  Hies  from  pond  to  pond.  .She  f(jllows  per- 
sistcntlv  and  endeavors  by  a  scries  of  bows  and  gesticulations  to  win  his  favor. 
The  male  hollows  out  a  small  place  in  a  mossy  bog  or  damp  meadow,  sufficient 
to  hold  four  eggs,  which  are  ashy  yellow  in  color  and  densely  marked  and  streaked 
with  rich  brown  and  black.  The  eggs  average  one  and  twenty-eight-hundrcdths 
inches  in  length  by  ninety-four-hundredths  of  an  inch  in  width,  and  are  usually 
very  pointed.  Some  nests  are  .scantily  lined  with  grass  blades  or  stems,  but, 
judging  from  their  usual  appearance  and  the  exposed  situation  in  which  the 
eggs  arc  often  found.  I  doubt  if  the  male  exerts  himself  when  constructing  their 
domicile.  Nevertheless  he  sits  patiently  upon  the  eggs  until  three  weeks  have 
elapsed,  when  the  voung  leave  the  shell  to  follow  their  father  about  in  search  of 
food. 

The  little  fellows  are  chestnut-brown,  streaked  with  a  darker  shade. 

In  the  meantime  the  females  have  congregated  in  small  groups  and  may  be 
seen  running  about  the  water  margin  or  swimming  buoyantly  upon  the  tranquil 
surface  of  pond  or  lagoon.  These  birds  excel  other  waders  in  swimming,  because 
their  toes  are  scalloped,  or  semipalmated.  and  well  adapted  for  such  purposes. 

Twenty  years  ago  Illinois  was  a  favorite  summer  home  for  the  Wilson  Pha- 
larope.  but  they  are  becoming  scarce,  and  from  what  I  can  learn,  the  bird  is  now 
regarded  as  a  rare  breeder  east  of  the  Mississippi  River,  except  perhaps  in  Wis- 
consin, where  thcv  still  gather  during  June  to  rear  their  young  around  the  bor- 
ders of  isolated  lakes. 


923 


Marsh    Hawk    {Circus  Hudsonius) 

The  ashy  upper  parts,  white  rump  and  long  tail  of  the  adult  male  sufficiently 
distinguish  this  hawk;  while  the  fuscous  upper  parts  and  buff  under  parts  much 
streaked  with  brown  distinguish  the  female  and  young. 

Range  :  Breeds  through  much  of  Canada,  south  to  the  middle  United  States ; 
winters  in  the  United  States,  especially  in  the  south. 

Though  not  exclusively  a  marsh  frequenter,  as  its  name  might  seem  to  imply, 
this  hawk  prefers  open  country,  and  its  favorite  hunting  grounds  are  meadow 
and  marsh,  in  which  it  nests  on  the  ground.  It  flies  rather  low,  the  better  to 
see  and  drop  suddenly  upon  the  luckless  meadow  mice — its  favorite  food.  Un- 
fortunately small  birds  form  part  of  its  fare,  and  there  are  localities,  like  Cape 
Cod  and  Martha's  Vineyard,  in  Massachusetts,  where  this  hawk  has  earned  a 
bad  reputation  as  a  destroyer  of  poultry  and  game.  However,  over  much  the 
larger  part  of  the  vast  territory  it  inhabits,  the  marsh  hawk  is  a  rodent  eater,  and 
the  debt  of  gratitude  it  lays  upon  the  farmer  is  large.  This  debt  should  be  fully 
discharged  by  preserving  the  bird  and  encouraging  its  presence  unless  it  is 
caught  committing  overt  acts.  In  other  words,  as  this  hawk  is  very  beneficial 
over  most  of  its  range,  individual  hawks  should  be  presumed  to  be  innocent 
unless  detected  in  transgression. 


The  Abandoned  Nest 

By  Melicent  Humason  Lee 

Slight   structure,   woven   to   a   birchen   bough, 
What  memories  hast  thou 
When  winter  breezes  blow,  and  furry  snow 
Clings  to  the  sedges  of  thy  withered  brow? 
Dost  thou  remember  how,  in  spring,  a  bride 
Brought  bits  of  bark  and  tucked  them  in  thy  side, 
And  quilt  from  hornet's  nest,  and  lacey  foam 
From  spider's  web  to  decorate,  her  home  ? 

What  tenderness,  what  ecstasy,  what  zest 
Inspired  her  young  breast 

To  tear  from  cloistered  couch  the  cat-tail  seeds, 
And  meet  the  warmth  a  little  birdling  needs! 
How  many  feeble  chirps  have  filled  thy  cave? 
How  many  beaks  have  begged  the  food  she  gave  ? 
Now,  but  a  blast  explores  thy  cradle  crude, 
Where  once  a  mother  reared  her  little  brood. 


924 


Pectoral  Sandpiper  (I'isohiu  niacniatu) 

Ranfjc:  Breeds  on  the  Arctic  coast  frcjin  iiortlicrn  Alaska  l<j  mouth  of 
Yukon  and  northeastern  Mackenzie;  winters  in  South  Anieriea  from  Peru  and 
l?oHvia  to  northern  Chile,  Arjjentina,  and  central  l'ataj,Mjnia. 

The  "grass  l)ird."  or  "krieker,"  does  not  share  the  predilecti(jn  of  many 
of  its  relatives  for  the  sea  beach,  hut  prefers  mud  Hats  and  marshes.  In  late 
fall  the  grass  on  the  salt-water  marshes  is  high  enough  to  hide  the  krieker, 
and  yet  not  oflfer  resistance  to  its  progress,  and  it  is  suri)rising  how  difficult 
it  is  U)  see  one  as  it  stands  motionless  watching  the  enemy  with  unalarmed 
eyes.  This  sandpij)er  arrives  on  the  IJcring  Sea  coast  to  breed  in  May,  and 
Xelson's  account  of  its  song  will  surprise  those  who  know  the  species  only 
when  migrating.  Si)eaking  of  a  night  passed  in  the  Yukon  delta,  he  says: 
"As  my  eyelids  began  to  dr(»op  and  the  scene  to  become  indistinct,  suddenly 
a  low.  hollow,  booming  note  struck  my  ear.  Again  the  sound  arose  nearer 
and  more  distinct,  and  with  an  effort  1  brought  myself  back  to  the  reality  of 
my  position  and,  resting  upon  one  elbow,  listened.  A  few  seconds  passed  and 
again  arose  the  note  ;  a  moment  later  and,  gun  in  hand,  I  stood  outside  the 
tent.  The  open  tlat  extended  away  on  all  sides,  with  apparently  not  a  livin"- 
creature  near.  (  )nce  again  the  note  was  repeated  close  l)y,  and  a  glance 
revealed  its  author.  Standing  in  the  thin  grasses  ten  or  fifteen  yards  from 
me,  with  its  throat  inflated  until  it  was  as  large  as  the  rest  of  the  bird,  was  a 
male  .i.  maciilata.  The  note  is  deep,  hollow,  and  resonant,  but  at  the  same 
time  liquid  and  musical,  and  may  be  represented  by  a  repetition  '■•'  t'^^-  sylla- 
bles too-u,  too-u.  too-u.  too-u.  too-u,  too-u,  too-u,  too-u." 


White-Winged  Scoter  {Oidcmia  dcrjiamU) 

Range :  Breeds  from  the  coast  of  northeastern  Siberia,  northern  Alaska, 
:iorthern  Mackenzie,  and  northern  Ungava  south  to  central  British  Columbia. 
Alberta,  northern  North  Dakota,  and  southern  Quebec  ;  winters  on  the  Asiatic 
coast  to  Bering  Island,  Japan,  and  China,  and  in  Xorth  America  from 
I'nalaska  Island  to  San  Quintin  Bay,  Lower  California,  the  Great  Lakes,  and 
the  Atlantic  coast  from  the  (iulf  of  St.  Lawrence  south  (rarely)  to  Florida; 
non-breeding  birds  occur  in  summer  as  far  south  as  Rhode  Island  and  Mon- 
terey, California. 

The  general  habits  of  this  scoter  correspond  closely  with  those  of  its 
relatives.  It  winters  in  great  numbers  in  company  with  other  roots  on  the 
coasts  of  the  New  England  and  Middle  States,  and  also  along  our  west  coast, 
especially  in  Oregon  and  Washington.  Scoters  are  denizens  of  the  sea  and 
are  almost  as  much  at  home  there  as  the  fish,  crustaceans,  and  shell  fish  upon 
which  they  feed.  So  large  are  some  of  the  shell  fish  that  have  been  found  in 
their  stomachs  that  it  is  difficult  to  understand  how  the  birds  manage  to 
swallow  them. 

025 


Bird  Notes 

By  Clara  Kern  Bayliss 

When  the  cradles  are  deserted  and  the  young  no  longer  need  care, — 
what?  From  the  middle  to  the  last  of  July  the  nests  are  rapidly  closing  out 
and  a  strange  silence  falls  upon  birddom.  For  a  time  there  is  some  chirping 
of  the  young  who  still  beg  for  food  though  they  are  as  large  as  their  parents ; 
but  the  great  jubilee  of  the  springtime  is  hushed  and  the  birds  which  were 
so  omnipresent  seem  to  have  vanished. 

In  the  hot  days  of  August  almost  the  only  bird  notes  heard  are  the 
JVichify,  ivichity,  luichify,  7\.'ich  of  the  Maryland  Yellow-throat,  the  ]Vheche- 
chcchee  of  the  never-tiring  Wren,  and  the  noisy  Thief!  TJifcf!  of  the  Jay 
which  strikes  on  our  ears  more  disagreeably  now  that  there  are  no  other 
sounds  to  engulf  it.  At  the  noontide  there  is  the  strident  rasp  of  the  Cicadae ; 
but  never  a  morning  now  are  we  awakened  by  the  inspiring  call  of  the 
Meadowlark  or  the  clear,  ringing  medley  of  the  Brown  Thrasher  which  in 
the  early  days  of  spring  made  us  glad  to  be  alive. 

As  the  silence  deepens  we  begin  to  hear  the  IVJicc-liec  of  the  Titmouse 
and  the  lively  See  me  and  Per-chick-o-py  of  the  'Wild  Canary"  or  Goldfinch. 
Perhaps  these  calls  have  been  with  us  all  along,  unheard  in  the  general  chorus, 
as  the  flight-song  of  a  single  bee  claims  our  attention  in  winter  while  that  of 
a  whole  hive  passes  unnoted  in  summer. 

But  although  so  cjuiet,  the  birds  have  not  yet  gone.  They  have  hidden 
away  to  change  their  clothing.  Some  day  you  may  see  a  Brown  Thrasher 
drop  out  of  a  tree  and  steal  in  and  out  along  the  rose  hedge  searching  for 
food  and  trying  to  keep  out  of  sight.  (Are  birds  really  vain  of  their  looks?) 
No  wonder  that  he  doesn't  want  to  be  seen,  for  he  is  not  the  sleep  creature  of 
earlier  days,  but  a  forlorn,  ragged  tramp  who  would  tell  you  very  meekly 
that  "he  doesn't  feel  able  to  work."  Or  perhaps  you  find  him  among  the 
1)rush  of  a  sheltered  hollow  where  the  winds  of  heaven  may  not  fan  him  too 
roughly  in  his  semi-nudity.  And  he  will  not  fly  up,  nor  utter  his  saucy  Quirt, 
nor  do  anything  but  hop  weakly  from  twig  to  twig  of  the  low  tangle  and 
make  a  faint,  wheezy  sound  in  his  throat.  And  you  say,  "Can  it  l)e  that  this 
's  the  same  creature  which  the  farmers  call  the  Planting  Bird,  because  when 
they  planted  their  corn  he  perched  audaciously  on  the  topmost  bough  and 
sang  in  imperative  tones.  J^rop  it!  Drop  it!  Pick  it  up!  Pick  it  up!  Come  here! 
Come  here!  Cover  it  up!  Vll  pull  it  up! 

All  birds  moult  in  the  fall.  Goldfinches  and  Tanagers  moult  the  body 
feathers  again  in  the  spring.  Bobolinks,  Tanagers,  Goldfinches,  Bay-breasted, 
Redpoll,  and  Myrtle  Warblers  wear  the  dull  colors  of  the  female  until  the 
pre-nuptial  moult.  Orchard  Orioles  and  Redstarts  breed  the  first  year  with- 
out acquiring  adult  plumage,  which  does  not  come  to  some  birds  until  the 

926 


third  yc;ir.  I  he  chaiij^i-  oi  color  in  lh(j>e  who  do  not  moult  in  spriu;;  is  due 
to  the  brcakiu^  olT  or  wrarinj^  oft  of  the  feather  ends  where  they  are  saw- 
toothed  to  the  main  feather;  (jr  to  a  real  chan;^e  of  color  hy  fading  which 
begins  at  the  outer  edges  ant!  gradually  extends  in  toward  the  (|uill. 

Some  morning  in  the  early  i>art  of  September  you  may  see  your  hrown 
Thrasher  in  his  new  coat  preening  himself  on  a  dead  limb  of  a  pear  tree. — 
and  dead  liml).s  are  convenient  things  to  have  for  bird  study,  fie  takes  a  long 
time  for  his  toilet,  spending  a  half  hour  in  getting  the  new  feathers  arranged 
to  suit  him;  and  when  it  is  done  he  makes  crazy  flights  into  the  air  and  back 
to  see  if  he  can  fly  as  well  as  in  the  old  suit. 

.\  few  days  later  if  you  go  about  cautiously,  you  may  hear  a  low  (Jiiirt, 
Quirt,  in  the  little  cherry  tree.  It  is  not  the  defiant  note  of  the  summer  when 
you  ventured  near  his  haunts,  but  a  low  sound  as  if  he  were  speaking  to  himself. 
And  presently  you  may  hear  a  strange  thing:  a  Thrasher's  whole  song,  note 
for  note,  whispered  sotto  voce,  with  bill  closed,  as  if  he  didn't  want  any 
one, — not  even  his  nearest  and  dearest, — to  hear  him.  I  ie  is  trying  to  find  out 
if  his  voice  as  well  as  his  plumage  has  come  back  to  him.  It  makes  y<ju  feel 
queer  to  witness  this  private  rehearsal.  When  you  sj)ied  upon  his  young  in 
the  nest  you  never  felt  so  much  like  a  conscienceless  intruder:  and  yet  yoii 
are  glad  to  the  marrow  to  have  heard  and  seen  it. 

.\nd  that  is  about  the  last  you  will  see  of  him  until  he  returns  to  yt)U  in 
the  spring.  Hut  where  will  he  and  the  other  birds  si)end  the  winter."  And 
v.hat  will  become  of  the  Bronze  Grackle  with  the  leg  broken  and  standing  at 
right  angles  to  his  body?  He  can  fly  and  can  jicrch  ;  but  will  he  be  able  to 
keep  up  in  that  tiresome  journey  of  the  multitudes? 

Manv  of  the  birds  slip  away  unnoticed;  but  everyone  observes  the  migra- 
tion of  the  Canadian  Cicesc  because  they  fly  low  and  keep  up  a  loud  honking, 
and  because  the  sharply  defined  form  of  the  flock  impresses  itself  on  your 
mind.  The  farmer  says  they  shape  themselves  into  a  "drag"  as  they  follow 
the  patriarch  of  the  flock  ;  and  their  lines  are  as  straight  as  those  of  soldiers 
on  parade.  Once  only,  have  we  known  them  to  break  ranks  in  disorder,  and 
that  was  one  night  wdicn  they  were  terrified  and  confused  by  an  oncoming 
storm  which  flashed  blinding  lightnings  in  their  i)atli  whichexer  way  they 
wheeled. 

In  our  childhood  an(»ther  migration  forced  itself  upon  the  attention  of 
all.  Every  autumn  the  skies  were  darkened  and  the  newly  sown  wdieat  fields 
were  covered  by  immense  flocks  of  wild  Pigeons;  but  that  spectacle  is  a  thing 
of  the  past  and  no  one  seems  to  know  w  hat  has  become  of  the  Pigeons. 


927 


Surf  Scoter  {Oidemia  perspicillata) 
Range:  Breeds  on  the  Pacific  coast  from  Kotzebne  Sound  to  Sitka,  and 
from  northwestern  Mackenzie  and  Hudson  Strait  to  Great  Slave  Lake,  cen- 
tral Keewatin,  and  northern  Quebec;  winters  on  the  Pacific  coast  from  Aleu- 
tian Islands  south  to  San  Ouintin  Bay,  Lower  California,  and  on  the  Great 
Lakes. 

The  surf  duck  is  possibly  the  most  abundant  of  the  three  species  of 
scoter  ducks,  and  in  fall  and  winter  it  visits  the  northern  parts  of  the  United 
States  on  both  coasts  in  great  numbers.  Tt  appears  off  the  coast  of  Massa- 
chusetts early  in  September.  Some  idea  of  the  vast  numbers  of  these  birds 
may  be  gained  from  the  observations  of  Nelson  who,  late  in  the  breeding  sea- 
son of  1878,  saw  near  Stewart  Island,  Alaska,  a  continuous  raft  of  them  about 
ten  miles  long  and  from  a  half  to  three-fourths  of  a  mile  in  width.  All  these 
appeared  to  be  males  and  therefore  represented  only  half  of  the  birds  of  this 
species  breeding  in  the  locality.  The  surf  scoter  is  a  powerful  swimmer  and  a 
superb  diver  and  is  almost  as  much  at  home  in  the  surf  as  a  fish.  It  lives  on 
various  kinds  of  shellfish,  chiefly  mussels.  Naturally,  having  no  means  of 
breaking  open  the  bivalves,  it  has  to  swallow  them  whole,  and  such  are  the 
bird's  powers  of  digestion  that  it  has  no  difficulty  in  disposing  of  the  thick- 
shells. 


Sanderling   (Calidris  leucopkaca) 
Range:     Breeds    from    Melville    Island,    Ellesmere    Land,    and    northern 
Greenland   to   Point   Barrow,   Alaska,   northern    Mackenzie,   Iceland,   and   in 
northern  Siberia;  winters  from  central  California,  Texas,  A^irginia,  and  Ber- 
muda to  Patagonia. 

The  sanderling  breeds  on  the  far-away  Arctic  coast,  and  in  early  fall  be- 
gins its  wanderings  southward.  These  take  it  much  over  the  known  world. 
Even  the  Hawaiian  Islands,  in  mid-ocean,  more  than  2,000  miles  distant  from 
the  bird's  nearest  breeding  grounds,  are  not  too  remote  to  attract  it,  though 
it  is  never  numerous  there.  The  sanderling  is  well  named  "beach  bird,"  for 
sandy  beaches  are  its  favorite  places  of  resort.  No  prettier  sight  can  be  imag- 
ined than  a  flock  of  these  little  white  birds  when  l)usily  engaged  hunting  for 
food.  As  the  foam-topped  breakers  rush  up  the  l)each,  and  retreat  to  gather 
force  for  another  dash,  they  plough  up  the  sand,  and  expose  for  a  few  brief 
seconds  multitudes  of  sand  fleas  and  minute  shell  fish.  These  jre  the  chosen 
food  of  the  sanderlings,  and  to  gather  their  harvest  they  keep  pace  with  the 
progress  of  the  waves,  now  advancing,  now  retreating,  ever  ready  to  snatch 
any  hapless  creature  less  nimble  than  they.  Sanderlings  fly  in  small  com- 
panies, and  often  a  few  individuals  mingle  with  flocks  of  larger  species.  Though 
naturally  so  tame  and  unsuspicious  as  hardly  to  recognize  the  ]")resence  of 
man,  they  associate  in  such   small  numbers  that  they  are  not  greatly  exposed. 

928 


The  \\  hitc-Eyed  Vireo 

Uy  Juliii  James  Audubun 

This  iiiUTcstii)g  little  bird  enters  the  Slate  of  Louisiana  often  as  early  as 
the  first  of  March.  Indeed,  some  individuals  may  now  and  then  be  seen  a  week 
or  ten  days  sooner  provided  the  weather  be  mild.  It  throws  itself  into  the 
thickest  part  of  the  briars,  sumachs  and  small  evergreen  bushes,  which  form 
detached  groves  in  abandoned  fields,  where  its  presence  is  at  once  known  by 
the  smartness  of  its  song.  This  song  is  composed  of  many  difTerent  notes  emit- 
ted with  great  spirit  and  a  certain  degree  of  pomposity,  which  makes  it  differ 
materially  from  that  of  all  other  Vireos.  It  is  frequently  repeated  during 
the  day. 

These  birds  become  at  once  so  abundant  that  it  would  be  more  ditlficult  not 
to  meet  one  than  to  observe  a  dozen  or  more  during  a  morning  walk.  Their 
motions  are  as  animated  as  their  music.  They  pass  from  twig  to  twig,  upward 
or  downward,  examining  every  opening  bud  and  leaf,  and  securing  an  adult 
insect  or  a  larva  at  every  leap.    Their  flight  is  short,  light  and  easy. 

Their  migrations  are  performed  during  the  day,  and  by  passing  from  one 
low  bush  to  another.  Like  all  our  other  visitors  they  move  eatsward  as  the 
season  opens,  and  do  not  reach  the  middle  States  before  the  end  of  April  or 
the  beginning  of  May.  Notwithstanding  this  apparently  slow  progress,  they 
reach  and  disperse  over  a  vast  expanse  of  country.  I  have  met  with  some  in 
every  part  of  the  United  States  which  I  have  visited. 

Many  remain  in  Louisiana,  where  they  rear  two  broods,  perhaps  sometimes 
three,  in  a  season.  Of  this,  however,  I  am  not  quite  certain.  I  never  saw  them 
alight  on  the  ground,  unless  for  the  purpose  of  drinking  or  of  procuring  fibrous 
roots  for  their  nests.  They  are  fond  of  sipping  the  dewdrops  that  hang  at  the 
extremities  of  leaves-  Their  sorties  after  insects  seldom  extend  beyond  the 
bushes. 

About  the  first  of  April  the  White-eyed  \'ireo  forms  a  nest  of  dry  slender 
twigs,  broken  pieces  of  grasses  and  portions  of  old  hornets'  nests,  which  have 
so  great  a  resemblance  to  paper  that  the  nest  appears  as  if  studded  with  bits  of 
that  substance.  It  is  lined  with  fine  fibrous  roots  and  the  dried  filaments  of  the 
Spanish  moss.  The  nest  is  cup-shaped  and  pensile,  and  is  fastened  to  two  or 
three  twigs,  or  to  a  loop  of  a  vine.  The  eggs  are  from  four  to  five,  of  a  pure 
white,  with  a  few  dark  spots  near  the  larger  end.  In  those  districts  where  the 
Cowbird  is  found  it  frequently  drops  one  of  its  eggs  among  them. 

I  have  seen  the  first  brood  from  the  nest  about  the  middle  of  May.  Unless 
disturbed  while  upon  its  nest,  this  bird  is  extremely  sociable,  and  may  be  ap- 
proached within  a  few  feet,  but  when  startled  from  the  nest  it  displays  the 
anxiety  common  to  all  birds  on  such  occasions.  The  difference  of  color  in  the 
sexes  is  scarcely  perceptible. 

The  White-eyed  Vireo  is  found  through  a  large  part  of  the  United  States^ 

929 


ranging  from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean  in  one  direction  and 
from  southern  New  England  and  Minnesota  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  in  the  other. 
In  winter  it  extends  beyond  our  southern  borders  into  Guatemala  and  Honduras. 


The  Tufted  Titmouse  {Baeoiopkus  bkoior) 

By  W.  W.  Woollen 

The  subfamily  Parinse,  of  which  the  tufted  titmouse  is  a  member,  contains 
about  seventy-five  species.  Of  these  thirteen  belong  to  North  America.  The 
range  of  the  tufted  titmouse  extends  throughout  the  eastern  United  States,  north 
to  the  Connecticut  valley  and  southern  Michigan  and  west  to  central  Nebraska 
and  Texas.  Comparatively  few  of  them  are  found  in  New  England,  and  this 
perhaps  accounts  for  the  fact  that  not  much  has  been  written  about  them  in  the 
•east-  In  some  of  the  books  no  mention  is  made  of  them.  They  are  irregular 
migrants.  Most  of  them  remain  throughout  the  year  when  they  have  taken  up 
their  abode.  They  mate  in  April  and  May  and  breed  until  midsummer.  They 
nest  in  woodpecker  and  knot  holes  and  other  cavities,  generally  five  to  thirty  feet 
from  the  ground. 

Some  of  the  names  of  the  tufted  titmouse  are  crested  titmouse,  crested  tom- 
tit, Peter-peter,  and  sugar  bird.  The  adult  male  and  female  are  alike  in  size, 
contour,  color  and  appearance.  Both  have  conspicuous  crests  and  a  bill  which  is 
black ;  tongue  very  short,  truncate  and  ending  with  three  or  four  sharp  points ; 
eye  dark  hazel ;  lores  white ;  gray  above,  whitish  below  with  sides  of  reddish 
brown;  wing  feathers  relieved  with  dusky  on  their  inner  vanes ;  tail  a  little  forked, 
considerably  concave  below,  and  of  the  same  color  as  the  back. 

Their  food  consists  entirely  of  insects,  their  eggs  and  larvae,  and  for  this 
reason  they  are  of  our  most  useful  birds.  At  Somerleaze  they  have  shown  them- 
selves to  be  very  busy  workers  in  our  orchard  and  I  have  been  much  interested  in 
watching  them  going  over  our  elms  for  insects  and  worms  on  the  leaves.  In 
doing  this  they  catch  a  limb  with  their  feet  and  swing  with  their  heads  downward, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  inspect  the  under  side  of  the  leaves.  One  Sunday  afternoon 
in  1900  a  pair  of  them  brought  their  young  ones  to  the  trees  on  our  front  lawn 
and  this  gave  me  an  excellent  opportunity  to  observe  them  from  the  veranda  with 
a  glass.  The  young  ones  seemed  larger  than  their  parents,  and  such  voracious 
appetites  as  they  did  have !  The  parents  worked  faithfully  all  that  afternoon, 
and  did  nothing  but  feed  their  hungry  progeny.  One  of  the  trees  was  the  very 
large  wild  cherry  and  in  it  was  a  nest  of  tent  caterpillars.  The  titmice  discovered 
it,  attacked  it,  and  destroyed  every  caterpillar  in  it.  It  was  interesting  to  watch 
them  do  it.  They  would  fly  to  the  nest,  catch  a  caterpillar  and  fly  with  it  to  a 
limb  close  by,  mascerate  it,  and  then  fly  to  one  of  their  young  and  give  the  cater- 
pillar to  it.     During  that  afternoon   I  think  they  went  over  every  tree  on  the 

930 


2S3 


TUFTED  TITMOUSE. 

(  Parus  bicolor). 
About  Lifesiire. 


CO^VRIGMT   HOO,    Br 


rORD.   CMlf«r,0 


lawn,  aiul  there  were-  many  <>t   tlu-ni,  huntiii}^   for  insects  and   worms   for  tlieir 
yoimg  ones. 

Mr.  I'.askett,  in  "Tlu"  Story  of  the  Birds,"  says  that  "In  the  old  days  when 
smokehouses  of  the  rural  ret^ions  were  of  logs  unchinke<l,  these  little  fellows  dug 
into  the  hams  and  middlings,  and  the  crested  tit  is  especially  known  as  the  'meat 
eater'  among  some  of  the  southern  folk."  In  the  country,  at  my  father's  log 
.cabin  home,  was  one  of  those  unchinked  log  smokehouses,  and  how  well  do  I 
remember  when  the  cold  winter  days  came  how  the  titmice  would  visit  it-  And 
this  is  suggestive.  Now  that  the  old  smokehouses  have  disappeared,  why  not  put 
out  some  scraps  of  meat  for  the  birds  in  winter,  whcTi  the  insects  an<l  worms  are 
scarce  and  hard  to  find? 

One  who  has  not  been  reared  in  the  country  and  has  not  enjoyed  the  many 
pleasures  of  sugar  making,  is  without  some  of  the  things  which  help  to  make  the 
after  memories  of  life  most  delightful.  It  is  in  sugar  making  time  that  every- 
thing is  opening  into  new  life.  Spring  is  getting  ready  to  put  on  the  green  that 
makes  May  and  June  the  most  delightful  months  of  the  year.  .Vs  to  this  conclu- 
sion, some  may  difTer  with  me,  giving  the  preference  to  September  and  October. 
To  me  the  one  speaks  of  fresh  life  and  budding  youth  ;  the  other  of  old  age,  decay 
and  death.  It  is  in  spring,  in  the  language  of  the  Psalmist,  that  we  have  "showers 
that  water  the  earth."  And  who  has  not  enjoyed  these  showers?  It  is  at  this 
time  that  the  drops  of  water  falling  into  the  pools  and  rivulets  make  air  globules 
like  halves  of  soap  bubbles,  and  our  shadows  are  reflected  mirror-like  in  the  water. 
It  is  at  this  time  of  the  year  that  the  drying  leaves  rustle  as  we  walk  through  them 
gathering  the  sugar  water.  And  how  delightful  the  memory  of  the  neighborhood 
parties  at  night  about  the  furnace  of  the  sugar  camp  from  which  the  stirring  off 
was  being  made  for  the  wax  pulling  that  was  to  follow.  It  is  in  sugar  making 
time  that  we  as  children  go  hunting  for  that  delicious  bulbous  edible,  the  turkey 
pea  or  pepper  and  salt.  Among  the  plants  it  is  the  pretty  little  harbinger  of 
spring.  It  is  in  sugar  making  time  that  the  tufted  titmouse  is  in  full  song.  It  is 
then,  as  Mr.  Baskett  tells  us,  that  his  song  "is  that  sugary  sap-rising  call  to  'I'eter- 
peter-peter'  to  get  out  his  spiles  and  water  troughs."  It  is  then  that  their  clear, 
loud  whistle  of  "peto-peto-peto"  may  be  heard  at  Buzzard's  Roost,  for  we  have 
many  of  them  there. 

These  delightful  birds  are  very  inquisitive  and  sociable.  They  rather  enjoy 
the  company  of  man.  At  Somerleaze  an  elm  tree  stands  so  close  to  the  house  that 
the  limbs  almost  overhang  the  back  porch.  Here  I  have  frequently  sat  in  the 
afternoon  and  whistled  to  the  titmice  to  come-  They  would  be  over  in  our 
orchard,  and  hearing  my  whistle,  would  come  in  answer  to  it.  getting  as  near  to 
me  as  the  closest  limbs  would  permit,  and  look  inquiringly  at  me,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"Here  we  are,  what  do  you  want  with  us?''  And  then  I  wished  that  I  could  tell 
them  that  I  wanted  their  companionship.  I  sometimes  feel  that  it  is  a  hardship 
that  all  animal  life  cannot  communicate  with  each  other.  \\'ould  there  not  be 
less  wrong  inflicted  then?  Would  a  man  kill  a  bird  if  it  could  say,  "Sir,  will  you 
not  spare  my  life?  Have  I  done  you  any  wrong?  Have  T  not  been  your 
friend?" 

931 


The  Dove  Not  a  Peace  Bird 

Doves,  according  to  popular  tradition,  are  the  last  things  in  the  world  to 
•connect  with  war.  Doves  and  pigeons  are,  or  were,  pacifists  of  the  most  viru- 
lent type.  Another  cherished  yarn  has  to  go  by  the  wall,  for  an  authority  says 
that  "five  minutes  in  a  pigeon-cote  .  .  .  will  result  in  a  lifetime  of  wonder- 
ing why  the  idealized  bird  was  chosen  as  an  emblem  of  peace,  for  this  stout- 
hearted little  bird,  once  called  the  "dove  of  peace,"  is  now  known  and  cherished 
as  "the  war-pigeon." 

There  "being  nothing  new  under  the  sun,"  one  is  not  surprised  to  find  that 
the  ancient  Egyptians  and  Persians  used  pigeons,  just  as  to-day,  as  messengers 
in  war-time.  Then  from  the  Orient  to  Holland  and  Belgium  and  Merrie  England 
came  the  birds,  the  ancestors  of  the  pigeons  that  have  played  so  important  a 
part  in  driving  the  Huns  to  their  lairs. 

It  brings  the  subject  close  home  to  us  when  we  remember  that  in  the  Pigeon 
Division  of  the  Signal  Corps  Louis  Wahl  and  William  Smead,  of  the  New  York 
"Zoo,"  are  in  charge  and  that  Corp.  Donald  Carter,  once  in  the  Gardens,  is  in 
active  service  in  France,  among  "the  doves." 

Mr.  Lee  S.  Crandall,  in  The  Zoological  Society  Bulletin  (New  York),  has 
interesting  things  to  say  about  the  birds.  After  speaking  of  Smerles,  "Owls," 
Dragoons,  Horsemen,  Skinnums,  Cumulets,  etc.,  he  proceeds: 

From  this  seeming  chaos,  after  many  vicissitudes,  the  racing  homer,  un- 
equaled  in  speed,  endurance,  and  intelligence,  finally  was  evolved.  These  three 
characters  have  remained  the  great  objectives  of  the  breeder,  and  color  mark- 
ings, and  other  points  commonly  sought  among  dometsic  pigeons  have  been 
ignored.  Many  derivatives,  bred  for  exhibition  points  only,  have  risen  to  popu- 
larity, but  the  racer,  not  always  uniform  in  type  and  color,  though  never  failing 
in  courage  and  love  of  home,  still  remains  the  pigeon  of  pigeons. 

Having  proved  its  value  as  a  flier  in  Belgium,  the  newly  evolved  breed  was 
quickly  imported  into  England,  and  later  was  brought  to  America.  The  sport 
of  pigeon-racing  soon  became  popularized,  and  its  devotees  now  number  thou- 
sands. In  America  hundreds  of  races  are  flown  yearly,  under  the  auspices  of 
local  clubs  and  the  larger  national  organizations  with  which  they  are  affiliated. 
With  the  overrunning  of  Belgium  by  the  German  hordes  of  pickers  and  stealers, 
the  great  majority  of  the  famous  studs  of  racing  pigeons  were  seized  and  sent 
to  Germany.  However,  the  blood  of  these  great  strains  is  widely  spread  and 
strongly  cherished  in  England  and  in  America,  so  that  they  will  not  become 
lost  to  civilization. 

Through  a  confusion  of  names,  which  has  become  wide-spread,  the  homing 
pigeon  is  almost  invariably  referred  to  in  news  reports  as  the  "carrier."  He  is 
a  carrier  so  far  as  service  performed  is  concerned,  but,  unfortunately,  that  name 
was  long  ago  preempted  by  an  entirely  different  bird,  closely  related  to  the 
Dragoon  and  Horseman,  and  known  as  the  English  Carrier.     This  pigeon,  while 

932 


perhaps  ori^Miially  used  for  Hying,  now  is  useless  for  that  purpose  and  is  kept 
for  exhiljition  only.  It  is  a  large  bird,  with  extremely  long  neck  and  legs,  and 
carries  a  Inige  mass  of  flesh  about  the  eyes  and  on  the  beak.  This  misuse  of 
names  has  caused  much  of  the  credit  due  the  true  homer  to  be  given  a  pigeon 
which  would  not  home  from  a  distance  of  a  mile. 

Many  misunderstandings  have  arisen  as  to  the  homing  abilities  of  the  war- 
pigeon.  Many  persons  apjx^ar  to  believe  that  it  is  merely  necessary  to  whisper 
a  few  directions  in  the  bird's  ear,  toss  it  into  the  air,  and  watch  it  strike  out  for 
the  destination  indicated.  Other  fancies,  still  wider  of  the  truth,  are  numerous. 
There  is  nothing  supernatural  about  the  homer.  It  simply  has  a  strongly  devel- 
oped love  of  home,  a  wonderful  sense  of  direction,  and  the  strength  and  courage 
to  return  to  its  loft  when  released  at  a  distance. 

Sense  of  direction  is  strongly  developed  in  most  birds.  We  have  only  to 
consider  the  marvelous  migration  flights  of  many  species  to  realize  that  this  is 
true.  In  domestic  pigeons  this  sense,  doubtless  native  to  the  wild  rock-dove, 
from  which  they  are  descended,  has  degenerated  through  countless  generations 
of  life  in  captivity.  Only  in  the  homer  has  it  been  retained  and  magnified  by 
long-continued  breeding  and  selection  for  this  point  alone. 

All  sorts  of  theories  have  been  advanced  as  to  how  a  homer  finds  its  way, 
extraordinary  sight,  electrical  influences,  and  so  on,  and  so  on.  It  would  seem, 
however,  that  it  is  simply  that  mysterious  sense  direction,  common  to  all  birds, 
strengthened  and  developed  by  "the  intensive  training  to  which  the  young  homer 
is  subjected,"  One  important  part  of  this  is,  that,  from  the  very  first,  the  bird 
learns  well  its  home  surroundings.     To  continue: 

When  free  flying  is  begun,  four  hundred  miles  is  the  greatest  distance  birds 
of  the  year  usually  are  asked  to  accomplish,  but  exceptional  youngsters  occa- 
sionally have  done  six  hundred.  Five  hundred  miles  is  the  most  popular  long- 
distance race  for  old  birds,  but  contests  up  to  1,000  miles  are  flown  yearly. 
Eight  hundred  miles  were  accomplished  in  one  day  by  a  famous  bird,  but  dis- 
tances over  five  hundred  miles  usually  require  more  than  a  single  day. 

The  speed  at  which  homing  pigeons  fly  is  one  of  the  first  questions  that 
comes  to  the  mind  of  the  inquiring  layman.  This  varies  greatly  with  the  distance. 
the  shorter  distances  naturally  being  flown  in  much  faster  time.  Flights  of  one 
hundred  miles  with  a  favoring  wind,  often  are  made  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a 
minute,  or  even  better.  Recent  tests  under  the  supervision  of  the  Signal  Corps 
showed  that  held  messages  sent  by  means  of  homing  pigeons  were  delivered  in 
much  shorter  time  than  by  automobile  or  motorcycle. 

The  longest  oflicial  distance  flown  by  a  homing  pigeon  was  a  flight  from 
Denver,  Colorado,  to  Springfield,  Massachusetts.  1,689  miles.  A  little  more  than 
twenty-three  days  were  required  for  this  feat,  the  bird  flying  only  by  day, 
gleaning  its  food  from  fields  and  poultry  yards  as  it  came. 

The  fastest  time  for  1.000  miles  is  one  day  and  eleven  hours,  a  truly  remark- 
able performance.     This  bird,  rejoicing  in  the  name  of  "Bullet,"  still  lives  in 

933 


Fort  Wayne,  Indiana.  It  is  a  satisfaction  to  know  that  both  these  world's  cham- 
pions were  produced  in  America,  giving  assurances  that  the  heritage  of  the 
now  scattered  lofts  of  Belgium  has  not  been  neglected  in  this  country.  Grand- 
children of  both  these  famous  birds  are  included  in  the  flock  recently  installed 
in  the  New  York  Zoological  Park.  Others  of  almost  equally  illustrious  descent 
complete  the  new  exhibit,  which  is  proving  of  great  interest  to  our  visitors. — 
Literary  Digest. 


The  Fulvous    Tree -Duck    (Dendrocygna  hicolor) 

By  I.  N.  Mitchell 

The  Tree-ducks  are  natives  of  tropical  or  semi-tropical  countries.  Two 
species  are  found  in  the  United  States,  the  bird  of  our  illustration  and  the  Black- 
bellied  Tree-duck.  The  range  of  the  fulvous  species  extends  from  the  southern 
border  of  the  United  States,  and  in  Nevada  and  California,  southward  through 
Mexico,  and  reappears  in  the  southern  portion  of  Brazil  and  in  the  Argentine 
Republic.  It  has  also  been  reported  as  a  visitor  to  the  States  of  North  Carolina 
and  Missouri. 

Mr.  Frank  M.  Woodrufi^,  in  speaking  of  his  experience  while  on  a  collecting 
tour  in  Texas,  says :  "I  found  the  Fulvous  Tree-duck  in  small  numbers  resident 
on  Galveston  Island,  but  found  them  abundant  and  nesting  in  the  heavy  timber 
along  the  Brazos  River,  sixty  miles  from  Galveston.  In  the  early  morning,  as 
we  would  leave  our  boat  and  make  our  way  to  our  blinds,  on  some  small  inland 
pond  where  we  had  prepared  for  collecting,  we  would  flush  immense  flocks  of 
this  duck,  which  would  fly  over  our  heads  at  rather  a  low  altitude,  and  continuously 
calling.  On  several  occasions  we  obtained  specimens  by  firing  into  a  flock  while 
it  was  still  so  dark  that  we  could  scarcely  define  the  outlines  of  the  individual 
birds.  The  fulvous  tree-duck  generally  feeds  in  the  night,  and  usually  at  a  place 
several  miles  from  the  nesting  site.  They  leave  the  feeding  grounds  on  the  first 
sign  of  approaching  day-  During  my  stay  of  three  months  in  the  Brazos  River 
region,  only  on  one  or  two  occasions  did  I  have  an  opportunity  to  observe  this 
bird  by  the  light  of  day.  In  form  it  resembles  a  miniature  swan.  It  stands  very 
high  on  its  legs  and  presents  a  wonderfully  curious  and  graceful  appearance  as 
it  walks  along  the  shore,  feeding  on  shellfish  and  decaying  matter. 

"Owing  to  the  nature  of  its  diet,  which  consists  chiefly  of  grain,  roots,  and 
water  plants,  the  flesh  of  this  bird  is  esteemed  as  an  article  of  food,  and  many  are 
killed  for  such. 

"Nest:  Located  in  the  hollow  of  a  tree,  the  bottom  of  the  cavity  usually 
being  lined  with  feathers.  They  lay  from  ten  to  fifteen  pure  white  eggs,  and  as 
many  as  thirty-two  have  been  found  in  one  nest,  but  these  were  probably  laid  by 
two  or  more  females." 

934 


FULVOUS  TREE-DUCK. 

iDendrocygna  fulva  ) 

Nearly  ,'i  Life-size- 


copym&MT  1900.  Br 

»      VUMFORS,    CHIC'-.'. 


Valley   Qliail    {/^ophortyx  califontica  calif uniica) 

Range. — I'acific  coast  rcgicjii  trum  ^oiitlnvc^tirii  (  )regoii  south  to  Monterey 
County,  California;  introduced  mU)  X'ancouver  Island,  Washington,  and  Colo- 
rado. 

The  two  f(jrnis  of  (|uail  inhabiting  the  coast  and  valley  regi<jns  of  Oregon 
and  California,  though  differing  enough  in  i)lumage  to  constitute  races,  are  very 
similar  in  habits-  As  its  name  imj)lies,  the  bird  prefers  valleys  to  movnitains, 
although  it  may  range  ui)\vard  as  high  as  four  thousand  feet,  at  about  which 
point  it  meets  the  habitat  of  its  larger  relative,  the  mountain  quail.  The  valley 
quail  is  widely  distributed,  and  being  very  i)rolitic,  it  is,  or  was,  exceedingly 
abundant  over  most  of  its  range.  ICastern  sportsmen,  knowing  only  our  Bob- 
white,  would  find  it  dithcult  U)  credit  tales  that  might  be  told  of  the  numbers 
of  valley  qiiail  that  formerly  congregated  in  favorable  localities.  Flocks  of  over 
two  hundred  were  common  enough,  but  in  the  late  seventies  and  eighties  I  have 
occasionally  seen  several  thousand  assembled  together  near  water.  When  flushed, 
successive  bands  of  hundreds  rose  simultaneously  with  an  extraordinary  whir 
of  wings,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  their  flying  forms-  Such  sights  are  of  the 
past,  although  the  valley  quail  is  still  numerous  in  many  regions.  It  is  on  good 
terms  with  civilization  and  is  prone  to  frequent  cultivated  tracts,  especially  vine- 
yards and  gardens,  even  on  the  outskirts  of  populous  towns.  Its  fondness  for 
grapes  does  not  endear  it  to  the  vine  grower,  and  he  often  has  to  resort  to 
extreme  measures  to  protect  the  bunches  of  ripe  fruit  which  probably  furnish 
the  quail  not  with  food  but  with  water,  for  this  quail  discovered  the  virtues  of 
grape  juice  long  before  it  was  put  on  the  market. 


Baby  Birds 

By  Archibald  Rutledge,  Jr. 

TF.X    VF..\RS    OI'"    AGE 

Baby  birds  are  in  the  nest. 
In  the  cast  and  in  the  west ; 
Now  the  sun  is  going  down 
In  her  red  and  yellow  gown. 

When  morning  breaks   with   rosy   light, 
So  very  different  from  the  night ; 
When  clouds  are  sailing  overhead, 
.\nd  when  the  baby  birds  are  fed, 

The  mother  bird  begins  to  try 
To  teach  the  little  birds  to  fly. 
And  then  at  last  they  fly  away. 
They  venture  further  every  day 

935 


Notes  on  the  Lyre  Bird   (Menura  vktoriae) 
By  A.  E.  Kitson 

The  \'ictoria  lyre  birds  are  restricted  to  the  densely  timbered,  moist,  hilly,, 
and  mountainous  parts  of  eastern  Victoria,  for  they  must  have  abundance  of 
moisture,  and  food  consisting  of  insects,  grubs,  worms,  etc.  The  jMelbourne  to 
Sydney  railway  may  be  taken  as  the  approximate  western  limit  of  these  birds. 
They  have  not  been  found  to  the  west  of  that  line,  nor  even  nearly  up  to  it  in 
many  parts.  The  reason  apparently  is  that  no  densely  timbered  and  scrubby 
humid  ranges,  with  permanent  creeks  in  them,  occur  to  the  west  of  this  line  on 
the  northern  side  of  the  main  divide,  for  neither  Putter's  Range  nor  the  Mokoan 
Range  near  Benalla  possesses  these  characteristics-  The  main  divide  itself, 
where  the  railway  crosses  it  at  Kilmore  Junction,  at  an  altitude  of  1-,145  feet,  is 
rather  low,  and  is  not — apparently  never  was — densely  scrubbed.  Again,  although 
eminently  suitable  country  for  these  birds  is  comprised  by  the  Macedon  Ranges 
and  those  in  the  Blackwood  district,  near  and  on  the  main  divide,  also  by  the 
Otway  Ranges,  no  lyre  birds  are  found  there.  In  the  case  of  the  last,  the  reason 
is  undoubtedly  its  isolation.  It  is  completely  cut  ofif  from  the  other  hilly  and 
mountainous  districts  of  Victoria  by  the  great  volcanic  plains  of  the  western  dis- 
trict, which  would  form  an  effectual  barrier  to  the  dispersion  of  the  lyre  bird 
southward,  even  if  it  were  present  on  the  main  divide  to  the  north.  The  bird  is 
so  shy  that,  unless  abundant  cover  be  quite  close  at  hand,  it  will  not,  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances,  venture  into  the  open  forest  country,  much  less  cross  wide 
tracts  devoid  of  arboreal  vegetation.  It  is  not  so  obvious  why  the  lyre  bird  is  not 
present  in  the  thickly  timbered  and  scrubby  country  of  the  Macedon  Ranges,  but 
apparently  this  also  is  due  to  its  comparative  isolation.  On  the  east  it  is  separated 
by  a  wide  dissected  volcanic  plain,  forming  a  natural  barrier.  The  only  prac- 
ticable bridge  of  dispersion  exists  in  the  main  divide  itself,  which  from  Wandong^ 
on  the  railway  takes  a  general  northwesterly  course-  to  Mount  William,  thence 
southwesterly  and  southerly  to  Mount  Macedon.  About  Mount  William  itself 
there  was,  in  its  original  state,  a  small  area  which  might  have  been  suitable  for  lyre 
birds,  but  on  the  portions  between  Wandong  and  Macedon  the  want  of  sufficient 
moisture  and  scrub  is  perhaps  the  reason  of  their  absence.  The  birds  seem  to 
have  spread  over  southeastern  Australia  from  New  Guinea  by  following  through 
Queensland  and  New  South  Wales  the  mountains  that  form  the  watershed 
between  the  Darling-Murrumbidgee  basin  and  the  Pacific  Ocean ;  and  this  within 
comparatively  recent  time,  considered  from  a  geological  point  of  view. 

It  is  a  matter  for  wonder  that  in  suitable  country  lyre  birds  have  existed  in 
such  numbers  as  they  have  done.  The  native  carnivorous  fauna  destructive  to- 
them  comprise  the  dingo  or  wild  dog  (Canis  dingo),  the  "tiger  cat"  (Dasyurus 
rnaciilatus),  and  the  "native  cat"  {D.  vivcrrinns).  These  animals,  especially  the 
first  two — which  are  much  less  numerous  than  the  "native  cats" — frequent  lyre- 
bird country.     These  birds  build  their  nests  in  spots  usually  accessible  to  dingoes,. 

936 


lii».3 


LVKE  BIKU. 
I  Life-si/e. 


and  lasily  so  U)  the  clinihiiijj  "cats."  They  have  ahnost  invariably  only  one  young 
one  a  year,  and  yet  in  most  of  Gippsland  and  the  northeastern  district  lyre  birds 
exist  in  much  greater  numbers  than  many  of  the  other  larger  birds  which  nest  in 
much  less  dangerous  situations,  such  as  the  gray  magpie,  king  lory,  wonga-wonga, 
and  bronze-winged  pigeons,  laughing  jackass,  and  black  cockatoo.  The  lyre  bird 
is  a  day  bird  anil  roosts  in  trees  at  night,  so  except  at  nesting  time  it  is  jiractically 
safe  from  attack.  It  is  a  strong,  active  bird,  and  couM,  even  if  attacked  by  a  "cat" 
in  a  tree,  either  free  itself  or  drag  the  "cat"  to  the  ground  in  its  first  struggle.  But 
it  is  comparatively  helpless  when  in  the  nest,  and  certainly  the  young  are  com- 
pletely so.  One  fact,  however,  aids  in  its  protection-  The  nest  is  usually  not 
easily  seen,  especially  if  the  female  bird  is  insitle  with  her  tail  raised  over  her 
head,  as  is  her  wont,  thus  nearly  filling  up  the  entrance  and  breaking  the  noticeable 
black  cavity  of  the  empty  nest. 

Near  the  source  of  the  King  River  I  have  seen  the  birds  going  to  roost  in  tall 
green  trees.  They  can  not  fly  upward  like  an  ordinary  bird,  but  rather  partially 
jump  upward  in  a  slanting  direction  with  their  outspread  wings  aiding  them  by 
soaring,  not  flapping.  To  get  into  these  tall  young  trees,  ranging  up  to  nearly  100 
feet  in  height,  they  went  up  by  stages,  taking  advantage  of  short  and  long  tree 
ferns  and  the  branches  of  smaller  trees. 

But  the  days  of  the  lyre  bird  are  numbered  unless  it  develops  the  habit  of 
nesting  in  trees  or  spots  inaccessible  to  its  far  more  dangerous  enemy,  an  intro- 
duced one,  the  European  fox.  Scattered  feathers  and  occasional  feet  are  fre- 
quently met  with  in  some  parts  of  the  country  and  attest  the  depredations  of  the 
fox,  which  has  now  spread  over  nearly  the  whole,  if  not  the  whole,  of  the  State, 
and  has  moreover,  developed  the  faculty  of  ascending  slightly  leaning  trees. 

.\s  regards  South  Gippsland  the  lyre  bird  is  doomed  to  extinction,  and  that 
by- the  agency  of  man.  The  mass  of  hilly  country  between  the  valleys  of  the 
Latrobe  on  the  north ;  the  Tarago,  Lang  Lang,  and  the  Bass  on  the  west ;  the 
Powlett  and  Tarwin  and  the  narrow  strip  between  Foster  and  Merriman  Creek 
on  the  south  and  southeast,  was  a  large  tract,  covered  with  an  extremely  dense 
vegetation  and  in  a  continuously  moist  or  wet  state  before  settlement  took  place. 
It  was  united  to  the  main  mass  of  the  mountain  system  of  eastern  Victoria  by  a 
narrow  elevated  tract  of  volcanic  and  similarly  timbered  country  between  Warra- 
gul  and  Longwarry.  In  every  gully  and  on  every  spur  the  lovely  notes  of  the  lyre 
bird  could  be  heard,  and  evidence  of  its  occupation  could  be  seen  on  every  hand. 
Thousands  of  these  birds  must  have  sported  about  this  country,  making  the  other- 
wise rather  silent  forest  a  huge  natural  concert  hall.  Now,  alas,  the  march  of 
settlement,  w^ith  its  breechloaders,  forest  spoliation,  and  bush  hres,  has  brought 
about  a  sad  change  from  a  naturalist's  point  of  view.  With  the  disappearance  of 
the  scrub  goes  the  lyre  bird,  and  as  the  country  gets  cleared  from  various  sides, 
so  patches  only  of  scrubby  country  are  left.  These  become  the  temporary  home 
of  such  of  the  outcasts  as  have  escaped  the  gun,  the  clearing,  and  the  fire,  till  they, 
in  their  turn,  become  felled  and  burnt,  when  the  lyre  birds  disappear. 


93; 


The  Yellow-Headed  Blackbird 

(Xanfhoccphalus  xanthocephalus) 

By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

Description. — Adult  male:  Head,  neck  all  around,  and  breast  orange  yel- 
low ;  lores  and  feathers  skirting  eyes  and  bill,  black ;  a  double  white  patch  on 
folded  wing  formed  by  greater  and  lesser  coverts,  but  interrupted  by  black  of 
bastard  wing ;  usually  a  little  yellow  about  vent  and  on  tibiae ;  the  remaining 
plumage  black,  dull  or  subdued,  and  turning  brown  on  wing-tips  and  tail.  Female: 
Dark  brown;  line  over  eye,  throat,  and  upper  breast  dull  yellow.  Length  10.00- 
11.00  (254.-279.4);  wing  5.30-5.60  (134.6-142.2);  tail  4.00-4.50  (101.6-114.3); 
bill  .90  (22.);  tarsus  1.25  (31.8).  Female  smaller,  length  8.00-9.50  (203.2- 
241.3). 

Recognition  Marks- — Robin  size ;  yellow  head  and  breast. 

''Nest,  a  light  but  large,  thick-brimmed  fabric  of  dried  reeds  and  grasses  slung 
to  growing  ones,  5-6  inches  in  diameter  and  about  as  deep.  Eggs,  3-6,  1.00-1.15 
(25.4-29.2)  long  by  0.75  (19.1)  broad;  grayish-green,  spotted  as  in  Scolecophagus, 
with  reddish-brown,  not  scrawled  as  in  Agclahis"  (Coues). 

General  Range. — Western  North  America  from  Wisconsin,  Illinois  and 
Texas  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  from  British  Columbia  and  the  Saskatchewan 
River  southward  to  the  Valley  of  Mexico.  Accidental  in  Middle  and  Atlantic 
States. 

This  Blackbird  is  essentially  a  bird  of  the  Prairies,  and  it  is  eminently  fitted 
for  obtaining  its  living  on  the  ground,  since  its  legs  and  feet  are  strongly  devel- 
oped as  if  by  and  for  scratching.  Large  numbers  spend  the  winter  sociably  in 
the  tule  swamps  of  Texas*  and  California,  breaking  up  into  smaller  companies 
after  the  migration  has  been  accomplished,  and  distributing  themselves  among 
the  inland  marshes  of  the  Great  Plains,  and  locally  throughout  the  West,  where 
they  breed  much  after  the  fashion  of  Redwings.  The  species  is  of  a  rather  roving 
disposition,  one  specimen  having  been  taken  in  Greenland  in  1820.  Small  bunches 
have  several  times  been  recognized  on  the  wing  by  competent  observers  here  in 
Ohio,  and  Wheaton  cites  the. instance  of  a  pair  being  seen  in  a  low  meadow  near 
Groveport,  in  Franklin  County,  where  it  was  thought  to  have  bred,  in  the  summer 
of  1873. 


938 


299 


VELLOW-HEADED  BLACK  BIRD. 

=^  Life-size. 


COPVRIOMT    l»00.    BV   A, 


UMFORD     CHICAGO 


Scaled    Qliail    U  (///'>f/>/(7  squamata  SijKuiiuiUi ) 

Range. — From  central  Arizona  to  western  I'exas,  north  to  southern  Colo- 
rado and  over  most  of  the  I'anhandk-  of  Texas,  east  nearly  to  central  Texas, 
and  south  to  the  Valley  of  Mexico. 

The  cottontop,  as  the  scaled  (|uail  has  been  dubbed  from  its  conspicuous 
whitish  crest,  has  a  restricted  range  in  the  United  States  along  our  southern 
border.  The  country  it  frequents  is  dry  and  barren,  and  chaparral  and  mesquite 
form  its  favorite  cover.  On  account  of  the  dry  nature  of  quails'  food  they  are 
greatly  dependent  upon  water,  and  hence  the  presence  of  large  numbers  of 
cottontops  may  be  taken  as  a  i)retty  sure  indication  that  a  stream  or  watcrhole 
is  not  far  away.  Western  (|uail  of  whatever  species  have  learned  to  trust  to  their 
legs  rather  than  their  wings  to  carry  them  out  of  harm's  way,  and  the  cottontop 
forms  no  exception  to  the  rule.  When  alarmed,  a  bevy  will  scatter  hither  and 
yon  among  the  rocks  or  brush,  to  come  together  again  when  the  supposed  danger 
is  past.  When  hard  pressed  it  is  an  adept  at  close  hiding.  The  bluish  gray 
plumage  of  the  cottontop  harmonizes  well  with  its  usual  surroundings  and  no 
Joubt  the  confidence  the  bird  reposes  in  its  protective  coloration  is  justified  by 
long  experience.  Protected  by  the  remoteness  of  its  desert  home  this  quail 
should  long  survive  the  fate  of  some  of  its  less  fortunate  relatives,  though  the 
automobile,  with  its  power  to  annihilate  distance,  is  a  new  danger  which  it  has 
yet  to  meet. 

The  habits  of  the  chestnut-bellied  scaled  quail  arc  so  similar  to  those  of  ihe 
present  species  as  not  to  call  for  separate  mention.  The  bird  ranges  from  the 
lower  Rio  Grande  X'alley  in  Texas  to  Coahuila  and  Xuevo  Leon,  Mexico. 


939 


Marbled  Godwit   (Umosa  fedoa) 

By  Howard  Jones 

Synonym. — Brown  Marlin. 

Description. — Adult:  General  color  pale  cinnamon  or  ochraceous-buff ;  the 
head  and  neck  all  around  streaked  and  spotted  with  brownish  dusky ;  the  back,  etc., 
heavily  and  irregularly  barred  with  the  same — a  typical  feather  from  the  scapulars 
has  a  broad  dusky  center  shaped  like  a  dandelion  leaf,  the  complementary  spaces 
being  ochraceous-buff,  or  irregularly  white ;  the  primary  coverts,  and  outer  webs 
of  three  outer  primaries  brownish  dusky;  the  breast  (especially  on  sides),  the 
sides,  flanks  and  lower  tail-coverts,  with  fine  wavy  bars  of  dusky;  the  superciliary 
line  and  throat  immaculate ;  the  axillars  and  lining  of  wings  darker — say  pale 
cinnamon-rufous;  bill,  slightly  upturned,  yellow  at  base,  blackening  toward  tip; 
V^  feet  and  legs  blackish.  Immature:  Similar  to  adult,  but  immaculate  on  breast; 
sides  and  flanks  less  distinctly  and  extensively  barred.  Length  16.50-21.00  (419.1- 
533.4)  ;  wing  9.15  (232.4)  ;  tail  3.13  (79.5)  ;  bill  4.28  (108.7)  ;  tarsus  2.74  (69.6). 

Recognition  Marks. — Crow  size ;  large  size ;  long,  slightly  upturned  bill ;  pale 
cinnamon  coloration ;  "marbled"  appearance  of  upper  parts. 

'Nesting. — Nest,  on  the  ground.  Eggs,  3  or  4,  light  olive-brown,  finely  speckled 
and  spotted  with  dark  brown  and  purplish  gray.    Av.  size,  2.18  x  1.64  (55.4x41.7). 

General  Range. — North  America,  breeding  in  the  interior  (from  Iowa  and 
Nebi^ska  northward  to  Manitoba  and  the  Saskatchewan),  Migrating  in  winter 
to  Guatemala,  Yucatan,  etc.,  and  Cuba. 

This  good  wight  has  wit  enough  at  least  to  avoid  our  coasts  of  late;  and 
Professor  Jones  in  his  recent  catalog  is  able  to  add  nothing  to  Dr.  Wheaton's 
records.  The  bird  cannot  be  blamed  exactly,  since  one  of  the  last  records  was 
of  thirty-three,  which  were  "shot  in  one  day,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Little  Miami, 
some  years  ago  by ,  Esq." 

According  to  Dr.  Coues,  the  center  of  the  bird's  abundance  in  summer  in- 
cludes the  northwestern  prairie  states  and  the  region  of  the  Saskatchewan.  "It 
breeds  in  Iowa,"  he  says,  "and  in  Minnesota  and  eastern  Dakota,  where  I  observed 
it  in  June,  and  where  the  eggs  have  been  procured.  I  found  it  on  the  plains 
bordering  the  Red  River,  in  company  with  Long-billed  Curlews  and  great  num- 
bers of  Bartramian  Sandpipers,  nesting  like  these  species,  on  the  prairie  near  the 
river,  and  about  the  adjoining  pools,  but  not  necessarily  by  the  water's  edge.  In 
its  habits  at  this  season  it  most  nearly  resembles  the  Curlew,  and  the  two  species, 
of  much  the  same  size  and  general  appearance,  might  be  readily  mistaken  at  a 
distance  where  the  difference  in  the  bill  might  not  be  perceived.  On  intrusion 
near  the  nest,  the  birds  mount  in  the  air  with  loud  piercing  cries,  hovering  slowly 
around  with  labored  flight  in  evident  distress,  and  approaching  sometimes  within 
a  few  feet  of  the  observer." 

940 


••Of*! 

w  d 


The    Prairie     Hen    {Tympanuclius  amcyicanus) 
By  Amos  Butler 

Synonyms, — Prairie  Chicken;  Pinnated  Grouse. 

Description. — Adult  male:  Above  dusky-brown  to  blackish,  narrowly  barred 
and  spotted  with  ociiraceuus-butT  of  several  shades;  crown  blackish,  less  spotted 
with  biUT;  an  elongated  tuft  of  feathers  on  each  side  of  the  neck,  brownish-black, 
the  uppermost  feathers  rufous-and-bufl'y-strijicd  on  the  inner  webs;  tips  of 
feathers  rounded  or  truncated ;  beneath  the  neck-tufts  a  bare  space  of  orange- 
colored  skin,  largely  concealed  at  rest;  wing-quills,  light  fuscous,  spotted  with 
whitish  or  ochraceous-butT  on  external  webs;  tail,  rounded,  fuscous,  blackening 
toward  the  tip,  the  central  feathers  narrowly  white-tipped ;  chin,  throat,  and  sides 
of  head,  buffy  or  ochraceous  with  a  blackish  malar  stripe  and  an  obscure  spot  of 
same  color  on  side  of  throat;  remaining  under  parts  evenly  barred  with  light 
grayish-brown  and  white,  tinged  more  or  less  with  ochraceous  on  sides  and  some- 
times on  breast;  nearly  unmarked  on  lower  belly  and  crissum;  tarsi  fully 
feathered,  plain  ochraceous.  .Idiilt  female:  Similar,  but  neck-tufts  smaller  and 
shorter;  tail  regularly  and  narrowly  barred  with  ochraceous-bufT  or  tawny.  Ivt- 
maturc:  Brownish  above,  with  medial  white  streaks  and  heavy  blotches  of  black; 
chest,  brownish-tinged  and  spotted  rather  than  barred.  Measurements  of  six 
Monroeville  Prairie  specimens  in  O.  S.  U.  museum. — Two  males :  length  18.25 
(463.6)  ;  wing  9.25  (235.)  ;  tail  3.85  (97.8)  ;  bill  from  nostril  .52  (13.2)  ;  neck- 
tufts,  3.30  (83.8).  Four  females:  length,  17.15  (435.6)  ;  wing,  8.32  (211.3)  ;  tail 
3.50  (88.9)  :  bill  from  nostril  .49  (12.5)  ;  neck-tufts  1.65  (41.9). 

Recognition  Marks. — Crow  size ;  general  barred  appearance ;  elongated, 
erectile  tufts  on  side  of  neck ;  distensible  air-sacs  distinctive. 

Nest,  on  the  ground  in  open  fields  or  in  the  edges  of  swamps,  lined  with 
grasses  and  feathers.  Eggs,  8-15,  usually  about  a  dozen,  dull  buffy-drab  or  olive, 
usually  unmarked  but  sometimes  speckled  with  brown.  Average  size,  1.70  x  1.27 
(43.2x32.3). 

General  Range. — Prairies  of  the  Mississippi  Valley;  south  to  Louisiana  and 
Texas,  east  to  Kentucky,  Indiana,  Ohio,  Michigan  and  Ontario,  west  through  east- 
ern portions  of  North  Dakota,  Indian  Territory  and  intervening  states,  north  to 
Manitoba ;  general  tendency  to  extension  of  range  westward,  and  contraction  cast- 
ward  ;  migration  north  and  south  in  Minnesota,  Iowa  and  Missouri. 

The  life  histor>'  of  the  Prairie  Hen  of  Ohio  will  probably  never  be  written  ; 
certainly  not  unless  some  one  is  at  great  pains  to  interview  the  older  hunters  of 
the  passing  generation,  and  succeeds  in  piecing  together  scraps  of  information 
which  have  lain  long  dormant  in  memory.  Having  become  quite  extinct  within 
twenty  years,  the  bird  was  confined  to  a  few  restricted  localities  in  the  north- 
central  and  north-western  parts  of  the  state  for  as  many  more,  and  it  has  been  a 
half  century  since  it  was  common  even  in  those  regions.  So  far  as  known  the 
last  survivors  were  seen  during  the  early  '80s  in  Erie  and  Huron  counties.  The 
last  record  for  Franklin  County  is  that  given  by  Dr.  J.  M.  Wheaton ;  November 
16,  1878. 

941 


It  is  idle  at  this  late  date  to  bewail  the  loss  of  this  noble  game-bird.  Its  ways 
were  to  a  certain  extent  incompatible  with  those  of  civilization.  Experience  has 
amply  proven  that  the  rural  portion  of  a  community  will  not  stand  the  sole  burden 
of  support  of  a  grain-eating  bird,  which  genteel  sportsmen  from  the  city  are 
allowed  to  slaughter  at  periodical  seasons — and  there  is  an  end  of  discussion. 
Apparently  the  only  alternative  lies  in  imported  birds  of  various  sorts  (the  tamer 
the  better),  and  in  private  game-preserves. 

Fortunately  the  species  under  consideration  has  been  fully  studied  in  the 
prairie  states  farther  west,  and  the  brief  sketch  which  follows  is  based  chiefly  on 
observations  in  Illinois  and  Iowa. 

During  the  first  days  of  April  a  mellow  rolling  boom  comes  over  the  prairies 
in  the  early  morning  or  late  afternoon  hours.  If  the  birds  are  plentiful  the  soft 
ook-ah-oom-hoo-hoo-oo-oo  may  sound  from  several  scratching-grounds  or 
"walks"  at  once.  In  the  corner  of  some  large  meadow  or  on  some  prairie  knoll 
a  company  of  twenty  or  thirty  cocks  and  hens  are  gathered,  the  former  bustling 
and  bursting  with  excitement,  the  latter  affecting  utter  indifference. 

The  cocks  ruffle  all  their  feathers,  throw  forward  the  erectile  feather-tufts 
of  the  neck,  inflate  the  distensible  air-sacs  until  they  look  like  ripe  oranges ;  then 
rush  forward  across  the  ball-room  floor  with  lowered  heads  and  scraping  wings 
while  the  air  escapes  in  that  tender,  penetrating  sob  which  reverberates  a  mile 
away.  As  the  show  proceeds  the  ladies  get  interested,  yield  somewhat  of  their 
frigid  manner,  and  move  about  coyly  among  the  strutting  gallants.  At  the  first 
few  dances  only  pleasant  mutual  acquaintance  is  promoted,  but  on  subsequent 
occasions,  as  attentions  become  more  serious,  conflicting  interests  are  sure  to  be 
developed  among  rival  cocks,  and  fierce  and  bloody  battles  ensue.  To  the  victor 
belongs  the  choice  of  maidens,  and  that,  too,  on  a  generous  scale.  Of  course, 
under  such  circumstances  conjugal  fidelity  is  a  thing  unknown,  and  it  becomes  a 
marvel  that  the  females  will  pay  daily  visits  to  the  scene  of  these  disgraceful 
scrimmages. 

The  female  hides  her  nest  in  some  grass  tussock  of  the  open  prairie,  or  in  a 
deep,  feather-lined  depression  at  the  edge  of  a  swale,  and  sits  closely  upon  ten  or 
a  dozen  eggs.  When  thoroughly  frightened  from  her  nest  she  is  not  likely  to 
return,  or  if  she  does,  and  finds  the  eggs  handled,  she  will  break  them  up  in  dis- 
gust. Incubation  is  completed  in  from  three  to  four  weeks,  and  the  little  brood 
is  promptly  led  off  to  forage  or  hide  at  the  behest  of  the  wary  and  devoted 
mother. 

The  flock  follows  its  mother  until  nearly  full  grown.  As  fall  comes  on  sev- 
eral family  troops  are  merged,  and  the  company  thus  formed  is  joined  by  the 
hitherto  exiled  males.  Under  the  contingency  of  persecution  by  gunners  the  flock 
scatters  to  right  and  left,  each  member  rising  in  turn  and  making  off  rapidly  with 
a  vocal  rattle  which  adds  to  the  excitement  of  whirring  wings.  The  bird  is  capa- 
ble of  sustained  flights  of  several  miles,  much  of  which  is  accomplished  by  stiff 
downward  sails  of  long  duration.  In  the  prairie  states  west  of  the  Mississippi 
the  females  and  young-of-the-year  retire  several  degrees  south  in  winter,  but  the 
hardier  males  usually  endure  the  rigors  of  the  season  in  the  North. 

942 


W'hltC-Kyed   \^rC()    d'irco  nozrboraccnsis) 
I'.y  j.  A.  Wlicalon 

Description. — .Unit:  Aboxc  l)ii^,'lit  <)li\f-|^ria'n.  tlullcr  on  cervix;  brighter 
on  forehead  ami  runii);  wings  aiul  tail  dusky,  with  bright  edgings  of  olive-green; 
two  yellowish  white  bars  forniet!  by  tij)s  of  middle  and  greater  coverts;  spurious 
quill  nearly  half  as  long  as  second  jjriniary ;  second  shorter  than  sixth;  point  of 
wing  formed  by  third,  fourth  and  fifth;  below  white  or  sordid;  sides  and  flanks 
wasiied  with  bright  yellow ;  lores  and  a  ring  around  eye  bright  yellow ;  bill  and 
feet  dark;  iris  white. — hazel  in  young.  Sj)ecimens  differ  chiefly  in  the  yellowness 
or  sordidness  of  under  parts.  Length  4.50-5.25  (  114.3-133.3)  ;  wing  2.45  (62.2)  ; 
tail  1.92  (48.8)  ;  bill  from  nostril  .28  (7.1). 

Recognition  .Marks. — Warbler  size;  yellow  lores  and  eye-rings  and  yellow 
sides;  yelk)wish  white  wing-l)ars,  as  distinct  from  / '.  gih'us,  which  it  nearest 
resembles  in  point  of  size  ;  white  irises- 

Xest,  of  usual  \  ireo  construction,  susjjended  from  forked  twigs,  thrCe  or 
four  feet  high  in  underbrush  or  thickets.  I'-gus,  3  or  4  white,  dotted  sparingly 
with  reddish  brown  or  dark  i)urple.     Av.  size,  .76  x  .56   ( 19.3  x  14.2 j. 

General  Range. — Eastern  United  States  west  to  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
north  to  southern  New  England  and  Minnesota ;  south  in  winter  from  I'Morida  to 
Guatemala  and  Honduras.    Breeds  from  Florida  and  the  Cjulf  States  northward. 

The  manners  of  this  "well-connected"  bird  have  evidently  suffered  through 
close  association  with  that  "prince  of  mountebanks,"  the  Yellow-breasted  Chat. 
Like  the  larger  mime  the  Vireo  frequents  brushy  ravines  and  thickets  at  the 
edge  of  the  woods,  where  he  prowls  and  pries  and  practices  all  the  tricks  of 
the  lightning  change  artist,  and  is  ready  at  any  time  to  join  his  voice  in  a  volley 
of  abuse  levelled  at  the  chance  intruder.  If  you  are  not  apprised  of  his  presence 
by  a  sharp  click  heard  in  the  depths  of  the  thicket,  the  feathered  farceur  will 
mount  a  nodding  wand  and  throw  the  succession  of  vocal  somersaults  which  he 
calls  his  song.  Tup  to  li'cc-o,  chipiti  burtuck,  comes  with  surprising  energy  and 
distinctness  from  so  small  a  throat  and  you  are  ready  to  follow  at  once  upon 
the  chase  to  which  the  wary  bird  invites  you. 

Mimicry  is  the  White-eye's  specialty.  He  follows  it  not  only  from  a  desire 
to  be  tuneful  Init  from  siiecr  love  of  mischief.  Once,  in  Lawrence  County,  we 
heard  a  remarkable  succession  of  sounds  coming  we  knew  not  whence.  The 
ravine  was  full  of  birds  and  we  surmised  Chat  and  Catbird  and  Mockingbird, 
until  we  came  at  last  upon  the  center  of  attraction.  .\  White-eyed  X'ireo  was 
hopping  to  and  fro  upon  a  willow  branch  and  singing  vociferously  while  birds 
of  half  a  dozen  other  species  were  ranged  about  him  giving  rapt  attention, — 
among  them  a  jealous  Catbird,  who  listened  with  bill  agape  and  drooping  wings. 
The  Punchinello  paused  froni  time  to  time  to  think  up  new  coinbinations  while 
the  audience  shifted  uneasily.  Then  he  would  break  out  with  a  new  production, 
a  iuml)le  of  three  or  four  phrases  from  different  artists,  an<l  this  he  would  repeat 

943 


over  and  over  with  slight  modifications  at  intervals  of  four  or  five  seconds. 
The  Chat  note,  a  nasal  aoun,  was  a  favorite  preface,  but  we  recognized  also 
Towhee,  Summer  Tanager,  Song  Sparrow,  Catbird,  Carolina  Wren,  English 
Sparrow,  Wood  Thrush,  and  Warbling  Vireo,  in  the  order  named. 

But  while  the  bird  is  a  good  deal  of  a  wag  and  something  of  a  scold,  we  are 
always  ready  to  applaud  his  humor,  and  we  may  as  readily  condone  his  "nippy" 
tongue  when  we  remember  that  it  is  wielded  in  a  good  cause.  The  White-eyed 
Vireo  builds  low,  seldom  above  seven  or  eight  feet  from  the  ground,  and  it  is 
naturally  anxious  for  the  safety  of  its  eggs  or  little  ones.  It  is  only  when  the 
welfare  of  these  is  threatened  that  the  bird  becomes  disagreeable  and  personal, 
and  not  always  then. 

The  nest  shown  in  the  near-by  illustration  was  pointed  out  to  me  by  a 
friend,  Mr.  C.  H.  Morris  of  McConnelsville.  The  bird  was  on  but  she  occupied 
the  center  of  a  little  bower  which  was  guarded  by  a  wall  of  drooping  vines  and 
bristling  blackberry  stems.  With  fear  and  trembling  I  cut  an  entrance  way, 
removing  the  stems  one  by  one,  and  glancing  apprehensively  at  the  sitting  bird, 
but  she  sat  on,  unmoved.  Next,  the  camera  was  brought  in  and  advanced  by 
slow  stages  toward  the  watchful  bird.  Many  twigs  required  to  be  cut  away, 
and  there  was  much  flapping  of  camera-cloths,  gesticulating  of  unmanageable 
"legs,"  and  clicking  of  shutters,  but  the  white-eyed  beauty  sat  nicely  for  her 
portrait, — once,  twice,  thrice,  until  the  strain  became  too  great  for  her.  Next 
the  nest  and  eggs  were  photographed,  and  after  removing  the  Cowbird's  egg 
(which  appears  in  the  picture  just  above  the  nearer  rim)  the  rest  were  left  to 
be  gathered  later  in  the  day. 

Returning  some  five  hours  later,  the  bird-man  pressed  eagerly  into  the  copse, 
intending  to  collect  the  set  of  eggs  for  a  well-known  museum.  The  bird  was 
on  and  happy  now  in  a  new-found  confidence.  Nearer — nearer — came  the  col- 
lector. The  bird  sat  on.  Finally  moved  by  some  strange  impulse  the  man 
brought  his  face  down  close  to  hers,  not  above  a  foot  away,  and  gazed  wist- 
fully, searchingly,  into  those  trustful  eyes.  Then  that  old  hard  heart  of  mine 
melted  within  me  and  I  turned  and  fled. 


The    Surf    Scoter   {Oldemia  perspicillata) 
By  Frank  M.  Woodruff 

The  Surf  Scoter  is  also  known  by  several  other  popular  names,  such  as  the 
Surf  Duck,  the  Surf  or  Sea  Coot  and,  not  infrequently,  the  Booby.  The  name 
Velvet  Duck,  though  more  commonly  applied  to  the  white-winged  scoter,  is 
also  sometimes  used  to  designate  this  species. 

This  Scoter  is  an  American  species  and  is  only  an  accidental  visitor  to 
European  coasts.  Its  range  includes  the  "coasts  and  larger  inland  waters  of 
northern  North  America;  in  winter,  south  to  Florida,  to  the  Ohio  River  and  to 
San  Quentin  Bay,  Lower  California." 

944 


Our  illustration  is  that  of  a  male  bird.  The  female  is  a  sooty  brown, 
silvery  gray  below  ami  with  much  white  on  the  sides  of  the  head. 

Immense  llocks  of  the  younjj  of  this  species  winter  on  San  Diego  Bay, 
California.  Here  the  adult  birds  are  of  rather  rare  occurrence  for  they  are  able 
to  withstand  the  rigors  of  an  arctic  winter  and  stay  far  to  the  northward  where 
they  are  a  common  resident.  In  the  vicinity  of  San  Uiego  there  was  about  one 
adult  to  every  seventy-five  or  one  hundred  juvenile  birds.  The  former  may 
be  easily  distinguished  by  their  very  striking  velvety  black  plumage,  the  white 
markings  on  the  nape  and  forehead  standing  out  in  bold  contrast.  These  white 
markings  remind  one  of  the  white  bull's  eye  on  a  target.  Because  of  this 
striking  color  characteristic  the  Surf  Scoter  is  frequently  called  the  Target 
Head  by  the  California  hunters. 

They  are  wary  birds  and  it  is  often  necessary  to  make  a  long  detour  in 
order  to  reach  a  spot  near  to  a  flock  without  attracting  their  attention,  as  they 
ride  the  crest  of  the  waves  in  a  heavy  surf.  The  younger  birds  will  remain 
in  the  surf  so  close  to  the  shore  that  frequently  they  are  cast  high  and  dry  upon 
the  beach-  When  this  haiipens  it  is  ver>'  amusing  to  watch  them  awkwardly 
scramble  back  and  enter  the  water  again.  The  older  birds  are  usually  much  more 
shy,  remaining  far  out  on  the  water  where  they  congregate  in  pairs,  though  some- 
times there  may  be  six  or  eight  together. 

As  the  tides  enter  San  Diego  Bay  they  carry  in  the  loose  seaweeds  in  which 
are  entangled  numerous  dead  starfish  and  other  forms  of  marine  life.  These  form 
the  principal  food  not  only  of  the  Scoters,  but  also  of  all  the  water  fowls,  such  as 
other  species  of  ducks,  the  cormorant,  the  pelican  and  the  beautiful  California 
gull. 

The  note  of  the  Surf  Scoter  is  to  me  the  most  pleasing  of  all  the  ducks.  It  is 
a  soft,  mellow  whistle  ending  in  a  cluck !  cluck ! 

Mr.  Xelson  states  that  the  Surf  Scoter  appears  in  the  vicinity  of  St.  Michaels, 
Alaska,  about  the  middle  of  May  and  nests  commonly  in  the  marshes  of  the  delta 
of  the  Yukon  river.  It  also  nests  in  large  numbers  on  the  Atlantic  coast  from 
Labrador  northward. 

Dr.  Coues,  speaking  of  these  birds  as  he  observed  them  in  Labrador,  says: 
"Thov  are  tough  birds  and  remarkably  tenacious  of  life  and  require  a  heavy  charge 
to  kill  them.  They  are  known  as  Bottle-nosed  Coots,  a  name  given  in  allusion  to 
the  very  peculiar  shape  and  color  of  the  bill. 

Its  nest,  usually  placed  on  grassy  knolls,  in  fresh-water  marshes  near  the 
sea,  is  made  of  dried  weeds  and  grasses  and  lined  with  the  down  of  the  bird.  It 
is  evident  that  the  female  performs  all  the  duties  of  incubating  the  eggs  and  carry- 
ing for  the  young,  for  during  the  nesting  period  large  flocks  are  observable  that 
consist  entirely  of  males,  constantly  feeding  in  their  accustomed  haunts. 

This  ocean  duck  feeds  "on  small  mollusks  and  fishes,  for  which  it  dives  al- 
most constantly,  both  in  the  sandy  bays  and  amidst  the  tumbling  surf,  sometimes 
fishing  at  the  depth  of  several  fathoms  and  floating  buoyantly  among  the  surf  of 
the  rao-ino-  billows,  where  it  seems  as  unconcerned  as  if  it  were  on  the  most  tran- 
quil waters." 

945 


Black-Throated  Green  Warbler  {Dendroka  virens) 

By  W.  Leon  Dawson 

Description. — Ad  it  It  male:  Throat  and  breast  above  and  on  sides  glossy 
black ;  sides  of  head  and  neck  bright  yellow ;  a  hne  through  eye,  expanding 
behind,  olive-green;  above  bright  olive-green,  clearing  to  yellow  in  front  and  on 
sides  of  crown;  spotted  or  streaked  with  black  on  middle  back,  and  sometimes, 
minutely,  on  crown ;  upper  tail-coverts  ashy  or  olivaceous-edged ;  wings  and 
tail  dusky  with  ashy  edgings  on  external  webs ;  two  broad  white  wing-bars ;  outer 
pair  of  tail-feathers  almost  entirely,  and  succeeding  pairs  decreasingly  white  on 
inner  webs;  middle  of  breast,  belly  and  crissum  pale  yellowish  white;  bill  black; 
feet  dark  brown.  Adult  female:  Similar,  but  with  less  black  streaking  on  back, 
and  with  black  of  throat  and  sides  extensively  veiled  by  yellowish  skirtings  of 
feathers.  Immature:  Like  female,  but  with  more  yellow  below,  and  with  black 
of  throat  still  more  thoroughly  concealed  by  yellow  tips.  Length  4.50-5,40 
(114.3-137.2)  ;  av.  of  ten  Columbus  specimens:  wing  2.49  (63.2)  ;  tail  1.91  (48.5)  ; 
bill  .38  (9.7). 

Recognition  Marks. — Medium  size;  bright  yellow  of  cheeks  and  forehead 
contrasting,  or  not,  with  black  of  throat. 

Nest,  of  twigs,  bark-strips,  grass,  moss  and  feathers,  placed  ten  to  fifty  feet 
high  in  coniferous  trees.  Eggs,  4,  white  with  creamy  or  buffy  tints,  speckled  and 
spotted  with  lilac-gray  and  rufous-brown,  usually  gathered  in  loose  wreath  about 
larger  end.    Av.  size,  .63  x  .49  (16.  x  12.5). 

General  Range. — Eastern  North  America  to  the  Plains,  north  to  Hudson 
Bay  Territory,  breeding  from  Connecticut  and  northern  Illinois  northward,  and 
south  along  the  Alleghenies  to  South  Carolina.     In  winter  south  to  Cuba  and  . 
Panama.    Accidental  in  Greenland  and  Europe. 

If  we  are  sometimes  disposed  to  envy  the  ornithological  pioneers,  Wilson, 
Audubon  and  the  rest,  because  of  their  unique  opportunities  for  observing  birds 
now  rare  or  extinct,  we  may  comfortably  reflect  upon  the  fact  that  that  most 
fascinating  and  distinctively  American  family,  the  Mniotiltidae,  is  yearly  mar- 
shalled before  our  eyes  in  a  way  that  was  denied  the  fathers.  The  chief  reason 
for  this  is  one  which  we  deplore  otherwise,  viz.,  the  continued  denudation  of  the 
forests.  It  is  probably  safe  to  say  that  in  Wilson's  day,  that  is,  during  the  opening 
decade  of  the  last  century,  eighty-five  per  cent  of  the  area  of  our  state  was  covered 
with  timber.  In  such  a  forest  even  of  the  great  Warbler  army,  whole  regiments 
might  pass  year  by  year  unnoticed,  and  many  species  be  held  rare  which  were 
really  abundant.  But  as  early  as  1885  the  forest  acreage  was  estimated  at  only 
seventeen  per  cent  of  the  whole.  These  are  the  latest  statistics  available,  but 
the  percentage,  without  doubt,  has  steadily  decreased  since  then.  In  this  respect, 
'■'■''^n.  we  are  favored;  for  if  tlie  birds  would  forage  at  all,  they  must  needs  avail 

946 


43« 


BLACK  THROATED  GREEN  WAkl.i  1 
(l)endroica  virenst. 
Life-si7e. 


themselves  of  our  restricted  food-lots  and  swarm  through  our  fenced  orchards. 
V\'e  are  unmasking  hidden  beauties,  and  compelling  relunctant  fays  to  show 
themselves. 

The  Pilack-throated  Green  Warbler,  as  an  indivi<lual,  is  little  troubled  over 
our  ingenious  compulsion,  for  it  is  not  at  all  unwilling  to  show  itself,  and  has 
never  learned  a  wholesome  fear  of  man's  presence.  It  is  one  of  the  commonest 
warblers  both  in  spring  and  fall,  and  seems  in  no  hurry  to  get  on,  but  there  is 
no  recent  evidence  that  it  ever  fails  to  make  the  passage  of  Lake  Eric.  Confined 
for  the  most  part  to  the  tops  of  trees,  it  not  infrequently  ventures  down  to 
inspect  you,  hopping  daintily  from  branch  to  branch,  and  leaning  forward  to  peer 
at  you  inquiringly  as  the  distance  decreases. 

The  song  is  an  odd  little  affair  of  lisping,  squeaky  notes,  but  as  innocent 
as  the  upturned  face  of  a  questioning  child.  Its  delicacy  defies  vocalization, 
but  Mr.  burroughs  has  proposed  a  graphic  representation  which  is  quite  unfor- 
gettable, " V •" 

Family  groups  of  six  or  seven  individuals  may  be  seen  early  in  the  fall 
hunting  close  together,  but  as  the  season  advances  the  weakening  bonds  of 
kinship  are  lost  in  the  sense  of  clanship,  and  this  in  turn  is  blended  with  the 
sense  of  racial  consanguinity,  which  more  or  less  affects  all  warblers.  Rev. 
W.  F.  Henninger  reports  a  remarkable  occurrence  which  took  place  near  South 
Webster,  in  Scioto  County.  He  says,  in  substance:  On  September  28,  1899, 
I  ran  into  a  company  of  Warblers  which  I  would  place  conservatively  at  two 
thousand  individuals.  It  was  like  a  regular  army  as  it  moved  up  a  long,  sloping 
hillside,  and  with  wonderful  rapidity.  The  wind  was  blowing  almost  a  gale 
from  the  north,  and  the  birds  allowed  themselves  to  be  urged  before  it  in  the 
direction  of  their  ultimate  retreat,  like  half-stubborn  autumn  leaves.  Lisping, 
chipping,  whirling,  driving,  they  hurried  on  and  I  after  at  full  speed,  panting, 
and  wishing  devoutly  for  a  better  chance  to  identify  the  fleeing  forms.  Arrived 
at  the  top  of  the  hill  the  army  suddenly  halted  and  when  I  arrived  breathless 
I  had  time  to  note  the  arrangement  by  species,  not  rigid  indeed,  but  sufficiently 
striking  to  command  attention.  In  the  center  were  seen  Hooded  Warblers  and  a 
sprinkling  of  Chestnut-sides.  On  either  side  of  these  in  turn  were  Black- 
throated  Greens  and  Sycamores,  about  two  hundred  of  each :  while  the  wings 
proper  were  held  by  Bay-breasts  and  Black-polls  in  enormous  numbers.  The 
order,  as  I  say,  was  not  strictly  maintained,  but  the  specific  grouping  within  the 
general  ranks  was  at  least  remarkable.  As  the  birds  deployed  to  feed  the 
specific  lines  were  not  quite  obliterated. 


947 


The  Killdeer 

By  Alexander  Wilson 

This  restless  and  noisy  bird  is  known  to  almost  every  inhabitant  of  the 
United  States,  being  a  common  and  pretty  constant  resident.  During  the  sever- 
ity of  winter,  when  snow  covers  the  ground,  it  retreats  to  the  seashore,  where 
it  is  found  at  all  seasons ;  but  no  sooner  have  the  rivers  broken  up  than  its  shrill 
note  is  again  heard,  either  roamnig  about  high  in  air,  tracing  the  shore  of  the 
river,  or  running  amid  the  watery  flats  and  meadows.  As  spring  advances  it 
resorts  to  the  newly  plowed  fields,  or  level  plains  of  bare  grass,  interspersed 
with  shallow  pools ;  or  in  the  vicinity  of  the  sea,  in  dry  bare  sandy  fields.  In 
some  such  situation  it  generally  chooses  to  lay  its  eggs,  about  the  beginning  of 
May.  The  nest  is  usually  slight,  a  mere  hollow,  with  such  materials  drawn  in 
around  it  as  happen  to  be  near.  In  one  instance  I  found  the  nest  of  this  bird 
paved  with  fragments  of  clam  and  oyster  shells,  and  very  neatly  surrounded 
with  a  mound  or  border  of  the  same,  placed  in  a  very  close  and  curious  manner. 
Tn  some  cases  there  is  no  vestige  whatever  of  a  nest. 

The  eggs  are  usually  four,  of  a  bright  rich  cream  or  yellowish  clay  color, 
thickly  marked  with  blotches  of  black.  They  are  large  for  the  size  of  the  bird, 
measuring  more  than  an  inch  and  a  half  in  length,  and  a  full  inch  in  width, 
tapering  to  a  narrow  point  at  one  end. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  alarm  and  anxiety  of  these  birds  during  the  nesting 
season.  Their  cries  of  killdeer,  killdeer,  as  they  winnow  the  air  overhead,  dive, 
and  course  around  you,  or  run  along  the  ground  counterfeiting  lameness,  are 
shrill  and  incessant.  The  moment  they  see  a  person  approach,  they  fly  or  run 
to  attack  him  with  their  harassing  clamor,  continuing  it  over  so  wide  an  extent 
of  ground  that  they  puzzle  the  pursuer  as  to  the  particular  spot  where  the  nest 
or  young  are  concealed.  In  this  respect  they  very  much  resemble  the  Lapwing 
of  Europe. 

During  the  evening  and  long  after  dusk,  particularly  on  moonlight  nights, 
their  cries  are  frequently  heard,  both  in  the  spring  and  fall.  From  this  circum- 
stance, and  from  their  flying  about  both  after  dusk  and  before  dawn,  it  appears 
probable  that  they  see  better  at  such  times  than  most  of  their  tribe.  They  are 
known  to  feed  much  on  worms,  many  of  which  rise  to  the  surface  of  the  ground 
during  the  night. 

The  Killdeer  is  more  abundant  in  the  Southern  states  in  winter  than  in 
summer.  Among  the  rice  fields  and  even  around  the  planters'  yards,  I  observed 
them  very  numerous  during  J""ebruary  and  March.  Their  flight  is  something 
like  that  of  the  Tern,  but  more  vigorous ;  and  they  sometimes  rise  to  a  great 
height  in  the  air.  They  are  fond  of  wading  in  pools  of  water,  and  frequently 
bathe  themselves  during  the  summer.     They  usually  stand  erect  on  their  legs, 

948 


and  rim  ur  walk  with  tlu-  budy  in  a  .stitT  horizontal  position;  ihc-y  run  witli  great 
swiftness,  and  are  also  strong  and  vigorous  in  the  wings. 

During  the  extrcinc  droughts  of  summer,  these  birds  resort  to  the  gravelly 
chamiel  of  brooks  and  siiallow  streams,  where  they  can  wade  about  in  search 
of  a(|uatic  insects.  At  the  close  ot  sununer  they  generally  descend  to  the  sea- 
shore in  small  flocks,  seldom  more  than  ten  or  twelve  being  seen  together.  They 
are  then  more  serene  and  silent,  as  well  as  difllcult  to  approach- 
In  summer  the  Killdeer  is  found  in  Xorth  America  as  far  north  as  New- 
foundland and  Manitoba.  In  winter  it  migrates  southward,  wintering  from  the 
lower  Mississippi  X'alley  and  Virginia  to  Central  and  South  America. 

The  Killdeer  has  become  very  rare  in  New  England,  so  that  in  many  states 
Wilson's  opening  sentence  is  no  longer  true. 


Mountain   Quail   {Oreorty.v  /^icta  plcta) 

Range. — Pacific  coast  from  southwestern  Washington  south  to  Monterey 
County,  California. 

All  our  American  quail  are  heaulitul,  but  this  superb  denizen  of  the  moun- 
tain sides  bears  away  the  palm.  Its  elegant  form,  rich  coloration,  its  long,  nod- 
ding black  plumes,  its  brown  gorget,  and  its  alert  carriage  lend  the  bird  an  air 
of  rare  distinction.  Our  plumed  knight  of  the  mountains  loves  not  the  low- 
country  with  its  dry  watercourses,  its  heat  and  dust,  but  chooses  for  his  perma- 
nent home  the  mountain  valleys  and  hillsides  with  their  pure  air  and  numerous 
streams.  This  quail,  with  its  two  varieties,  is  strictly  limited  to  the  west  coast 
where  it  ranges  from  Lower  California  into  Washington.  Formerly  it  was 
abundant  over  most  of  its  range,  and  it  is  yet  numerous  in  many  localities.  In 
Oregon  it  used  to  be  trapped  in  great  numbers,  and  as  long  ago  as  1880  was 
commonly  exposed  in  the  city  markets  in  crates  containing  twenty  or  more. 
Even  the  market  men  decried  the  practice,  but  nevertheless  cheerfully  sold  the 
birds  at  three  dollars  per  dozen.  A  sad  sight  it  was  to  see  these  beautiful  crea- 
tures captive  and  exposed  for  sale.  My  own  experience  with  the  mountain  quail 
dates  back  many  years.  All  the  covies  I  saw  in  California  and  Oregon  were 
comparatively  small,  always  less  than  ten,  and  the  bird  appears  rarely,  if  ever, 
to  associate  in  great  gatherings  composed  of  several  or  more  independent  covies. 
as  does  the  valley  and  Gambel's  quail.  \\'hen  in  their  ordinary  mountain  haunts, 
plumed  quail  are  tame  enough,  altogether  too  tame  for  their  own  safety,  but  I 
am  told  that  where  much  pursued  by  sportsmen  with  or  without  dogs,  they 
rapidlv  lose  their  unsophisticated  ways  and  learn  to  take  good  care  of  themselves- 

949 


The  Habits  of  the  King  Rail  (Raiius  ciegans) 

By  Gerard  Alan  Abbott 

The  family  Rallidae  includes  nearly  two  hundred  species  and  sub-species 
of  birds.  They  are  distributed  over  the  greater  portion  of  each  continent, 
the  coots,  gallinules  and  rails  being  the  American  representatives  of  this 
interesting  family. 

The  rails,  whose  feet  and  legs  are  remarkably  developed  for  the  purpose, 
traverse  the  almost  impenetrable  swamps  and  quagmires  with  unequaled  agility, 
taking  wing  only  as  a  last  resort.  Rails  are  less  aquatic  that  coots  or  galinules, 
and  though  not  gregarious  are  seldom  found  breeding  in  isolated  pairs.  Fre- 
quently several  varieties  of  rails  occupy  their  respective  nests  within  a  few  yards 
of  each  other,  and  again  all  three  species  will  deposit  their  eggs  in  a  single  nest, 
which  is  usually  that  of  a  King  Rail,  the  largest  of  the  genera. 

The  Marsh-hen,  King,  or  Red-breasted  Rail,  is  brown  in  color  of  varying 
shades,  and  the  feathers  are  streaked  or  mottled  with  black.  The  sexes  are 
indistinguishable  and  the  young  are  covered  with  down  which  is  jet  black.  The 
body  is  very  slim  and  compact,  enabling  its  owner  to  pass  through  tangled  vegeta- 
tion without  hindrance. 

The  restricted  breeding  range  of  the  King  Rail  includes  the  eastern  portion 
of  the  United  States,  westward  to  the  states- bounded  on  the  east  by  the  Mississippi 
River.  In  Wisconsin,  southern  Canada  and  Maine  this  Rail  is  known  only  as  a 
casual  visitor.  The  states  bordering  on  the  Great  Lakes — Illinois,  Indiana,  Ohio, 
Michigan  and  New  York — probaljly  contain  the  most  popular  resorts  of  the  King 
Rail,  where  it  nests  abundantly  in  suitable  localities.  South  of  the  Ohio  River 
the  King  Rail  occurs  in  limited  numbers  and  is  undoubtedly  a  permanent  resident 
wherever  found.  On  the  sea-coast  the  King  Rail  is  replaced  by  a  salt  water 
variety  known  as  the  clapper  rail.  The  two  species  are  closely  allied,  but  the 
latter  may  be  identified  by  its  smaller  size  and  paler  colors. 

I  have  devoted  considerable  time  to  the  study  of  the  King  Rail — both  during 
its  migrations  and  in  its  domestic  life — and  I  consider  it  one  of  the  m.ost  bold, 
shrewd  and  fearless  of  water  fowls.  No  one  should  be  surprised  at  the  antics 
of  a  rail.  A  neighbor  discovered  one  in  her  front  room  after  leaving  the  door  ajar 
one  morning.  King  Rails  have  been  observed  about  the  barnyard  in  company 
with  the  poultry.  On  several  moonlight  nights,  between  the  hours  of  eight  and 
ten,  during  the  months  of  May  and  June,  I  have  heard  and  seen  this  droll  looking 
bird  strolling  about  the  streets  of  Chicago,  perhaps  one-half  mile  distant  from 
the  nearest  marsh.  This  may  be  called  one  of  its  nocturnal  escapades,  and  as  it 
wanders  from  yard  to  yard  its  curiosity  increases.  It  ventures  upon  the  side- 
walk and  poses  under  the  light  of  a  street  lamp  and  suddenly  becomes  hilarious, 
"clucking,"  "cackling"  and  "creeking,"  its  hoarse  voice  breaking  the  silence  of 
the  calm  spring  atmosphere,  and  then  it  vanishes  as  if  by  magic. 

Nest  building  begins  in  April  and  often  requires  a  week  for  completion. 

950 


l-resli  f^gs  may  be  IoiiikI  from  the  tir>t  day  (jf  April  to  July,  the  time  var\ing 
according  to  locality  and  season.  On  or  about  the  eighteenth  of  May  is  the  best 
period  to  study  the  nesting  habits  of  this  rail  in  northern  Illinois  and  Indiana. 
Usually  a  complete  set  of  eggs,  ranging  from  eight  to  fourteen  in  number,  has 
been  laid  and  the  parents  have  begun  the  duties  of  incubation,  which  cover  a 
period  of  three   weeks. 

Clumps  of  tlead  rushes,  fallen  reeds  or  tussocks  of  marsh  grass  are  favorite 
nesting  places,  and  so  attached  do  the  birds  become  to  some  selected  corner  of  the 
marsh  that  the  same  pair  return  annually  to  their  chosen  spot.  The  nest  proper 
is  generally  built  of  those  materials  which  surround  and  conceal  the  site,  and  is 
so  constructed,  with  an  opening  on  the  side  sufficient  in  size  to  admit  the  owner, 
that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  see  from  al)ove  the  silting  bird  or  her  eggs  without 
first  parting  the  vegetation.  In  several  instances  I  have  been  obliged  to  lift  the 
incubating  bird  from  her  nest  that  I  might  obtain  a  view  of  her  treasures. 

The  eggs  exhibit  considerable  diversity  in  size,  shape  and  color.  Typical 
eggs  resemble  those  of  the  domestic  fowl  in  shape.  The  background  of  the  egg 
may  be  bluish  white,  creamy  bufT  or  light  brown.  The  markings  consist  of  specks, 
spots,  blotches  and  scrawls  of  numerous  shades  of  red.  brown  and  lilac.  In  size 
the  eggs  range  from  one  and  fifty-hundredths  inches  to  one  and  ninety-hundredths 
inches  long  by  one  and  twelve-hundredths  inches  to  one  and  twenty-eight- 
humlrcdths  inches  wide. 


95\ 


Clcipper  Rail   (Rallus  crepitans  crepitans) 

Range. — Breeds  from  Connecticut  to  North  Carolina;  winters  mainly  south 
of  New  Jersey. 

The  distribution  of  the  clapper  rail  complements  that  of  the  king  rail,  for 
the  clapper  inhabits  the  salt-water  marshes  as  its  relative  does  he  fresh-water 
meadows.  Though  occasional  as  far  north  as  Massachusetts,  the  clapper  rail 
does  not  begin  to  be  numerous  until  Long  Island  is  reached.  Farther  south  it 
inhabits  the  salt  marshes  in  great  numbers.  It  used  to  nest  abundantly  on  Cobb's 
Island  and  other  sandy  islands  along  the  Atlantic  coast  which  are  fringed  on 
the  landward  side  by  dense  beds  of  rushes.  When  on  Cobb's  Island,  I  once 
offered  a  small  boy  a  quarter  apiece  for  some  of  the  young  clappers,  as  I  had 
never  seen  them.  In  about  an  hour  he  returned  and  to  my  astonishment  turned 
out  of  his  cap  more  than  a  dozen  of  the  quaint,  black,  fluffy  youngsters,  some  of 
which  apparently  had  just  chipped  the  shell.  It  appeared  that  an  uncommonly 
high  tide  had  driven  the  birds  from  their  usual  haunts,  and  the  nestlings  were 
to  be  had  by  the  dozen  by  wading  through  the  reeds  and  picking  them  off  the 
piles  of  floating  debris.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  returning  most  of  them  to  their 
native  haunts,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  they  lost  themselves  among  the  reeds 
showed  that  they  needed  no  parental  lectures  on  the  art  of  concealment. 

A  closely  allied  species,  the  California  clapper  rail,  represents  the  eastern 
bird  on  the  Pacific  coast  of  Oregon  and  California.  As  the  name  implies,  clapper 
rails  are  noisy  birds,  and  their  harsh  notes  are  often  heard  coming  from  the 
thick  reeds  when  the  callers  are  invisible.  They  lay  from  seven  to  a  dozen  eggs 
and  are  so  prolific  that  with  a  decent  regard  for  seasons  and  bag  limits,  they 
should  hold  their  own  to  the  end  of  time. 


Rusty    Blackbird    {Scolecopkagns  caroUnus) 

By  Lynds  Jones 

Synonyms. — Rusty  Crackle;  Thrush  Blackbird. 

Description. — Adult  male  in  breeding  plumage:  Uniform  glossy  black,  with 
bluish  green  reflections ;  iris  pale  straw.  At  other  seasons  the  plumage  bears 
rufous  or  "rusty"  tips  above,  especially  anteriorly,  and  rufescent  or  buffy  tips 
below,  in  varying  proportions ;  a  light  line  also  over  the  eye.  The  full  nuptial 
dress  is  seldom  seen  in  Ohio,  but  may  be  found  by  narrowly  observing  the  latest 
migrants  in  spring.  Adult  female  in  breeding  plumage:  Blackish  slate,  lustrous 
above,  duller  below.  At  other  seasons  the  general  cast  of  plumage  is  lighter, 
and  the  overlay  of  rusty  or  buffy  is  similar  to  that  of  the  male.     Adult  male, 

952 


length  9.00-9.60  (228.6-243.8)  ;  wing  449  (114.)  ;  tail  3.68  (93.5)  ;  bill  .76  (19.3). 

I'cnialc  smaller. 

Rcco^'iiiiion  Marks. — Robin  size;  plumage  usually  rusty-tinged  during  mi- 
grations in  Ohio.  If  in  full  plumage  they  are  the  only  pure  black  birils  of  the 
size.  In  the  common  tlocks  of  "blackbirds"  in  early  spring,  the  high  whistling 
notes  belong  to  the  Rusties. 

Nesting.— ^ Does  not  breed  in  Ohio.  Nest,  of  slicks  and  coarse  grasses  held 
together  with  mud,  lined  with  hue  grasses  and  rootlets,  placed  in  bushes  or  high 
in  coniferous  trees.  E(j(js,  4-7,  grayish  or  pale  green,  speckled  and  mottled 
with  purples  or  reddish  browns,  and  without  streaks  or  lines.  A  v.  size,  1.00  .x  .76 
(25.4x19.3). 

General  Range- — Eastern  and  northern  North  .America,  west  to  Alaska  and 
the  Plains.  l^)rceds  frcim  northern  United  States  northward.  Winters  from 
Kentucky  and  Tennessee  southward. 

The  great  roving  hordes  of  "Blackbirds"  in  early  spring  are  likely  to  con- 
tain at  least  a  sprinkling  of  "Rusties,"  but  usually  they  are  not  so  eager  to  press 
on  as  are  the  impulsive  Redwings,  and  so  they  fall  out  of  the  ranks  by  dozens 
and  scores.  Succeeding  platoons  composed  of  these  birds  alone  keep  arriving 
from  the  south  during  the  last  weeks  in  March  and  the  first  in  April,  while 
many  do  not  depart  for  their  summer  home  in  the  far  north  till  the  first  or  even 
second  week  in  May. 

Rusty  Blackbirds  are  to  be  found  chielly  in  damp  woods  and  along  streams. 
While  with  us  they  are  rather  retiring,  partly  because  they  are  pilgrims — and 
it  behooves  all  such  to  be  modest — and  partly  because  they  undergo  the  spring 
moult  en  route.  The  last  trace  of  rusty  edging  must  be  removed  from  the 
feathers  before  the  breeding  ground  is  reached,  though  such  as  have  attained  the 
full  dignity  of  dress  suits  may  declare  their  hearts  to  the  ladies  before  they 
quit  Ohio. 

In  some  tiny  glade  in  the  heart  of  the  budding  forest  it  is  that  one  comes 
upon  a  company  of  these  sojourners,  feeding  perhaps  upon  the  ground.  They 
walk  about  with  easy  grace  or  shift  by  little  flights,  males  and  females  flocking 
together,  and  all  engaged  in  a  subdued  but  voluble  chatter.  An  instant  hush 
follows  the  signal  of  alarm  and  the  flock  rises  silently  to  the  neighboring  tree- 
tops  or  passes  to  a  distant  spot,  where  their  conversation  is  gradually  resumed. 
As  the  alarm  decreases  the  birds  come  gradually  dropping  down,  one  by  one, 
until  confidence  is  completely  restored  again. 

The  notes  of  the  Rusty  Blackbird  consist  of  a  bubbling  medley  of  I's  and 
r's  through  which  clear,  high-pitched  whistles  or  squeaks  are  interspersed  at 
will.  Gonuliillier  conveys  some  idea  of  the  liquid  quality  of  the  former,  and 
expresses  also  in  part  the  effort  which  is  required  to  produce  them.  The  eft'ect 
of  a  full  chorus  is  really  quite  pleasing.     If  not  "music"  it  is  at  least  among  the 


less  disagreeable  of  noises. 


953 


Winter  Birds* 

To  know  birds,  to  love  birds,  to  know  how  to  have  birds  love  you  is  a  great 
trio  of  educational  achievements. 

Scholarship  is  knowing  about  nature  and  human  nature,  education  is  know- 
ing nature  and  human  nature. 

Scholarship  is  crystallized  knowledge,  education  is  knowledge  in  action. 

The  easiest  and  most  beautiful  way  to  know  nature  in  action  is  through  birds. 
The  easiest  way  to  know  birds  most  completely  is  to  know  them  in  winter. 

In  spring,  summer  and  autumn  birds  have  no  need  of  you  and  they  care  little 
for  you  except  as  a  by-product  of  experience. 

All  nature  is  catering  to  the  birds  and  they  crave  bird  comradeship  from 
early  spring  to  late  autumn. 

But  in  winter  nature  often  plays  them  false.  Then  they  are  liable  to  be 
absolutely  dependent  upon  human  nature. 

Anybody  can  love  birds  in  their  song  days  and  nesting  time.  Then  the 
whole  bird  world  is  on  dress  parade,  but  in  winter  all  is  changed.  The  birds 
in  winter  are  like  a  bride  in  kitchen  attire,  while  in  summer  they  have  a  party 
dress  and  have  party  manners. 

Frank  M.  Chapman  is  one  of  the  birds'  best  friends,  or  rather  he  helps  all 
people,  children  especially,  to  befriend  birds. 

The  coldest,  wildest  days  in  winter  are  the  coziest  days  in  the  home.  When 
it  is  possible  or  undesirable  to  brave  the  rigors  of  a  northern  winter,  we  love  home 
and  indoor  life  most,  but  those  are  the  days  that  spell  terror  for  birds. 

If  the  winter  birds  could  talk  a  human  language  they  would  give  Frank  M. 
Chapman  a  nobler  and  more  glorious  reception  than  America  will  give  Foch 
when  he  comes  to  us,  for  he  has  done  more  to  make  the  winter  world  safe 
for  birds  in  civilized  communities  than  Foch  has  done  toward  making  the  world 
safe  for  democracy. 

In  our  "Winter  Birds''  Mr.  Chapman  has  done  more  for  us  and  for  the  birds 
in  proportion  to  the  price  of  the  book  than  he  has  done  elsewhere.  I  lis  chapters 
are  on  home  birds,  field  birds  and  forest  birds,  and  in  vivid  and  brilliant  descrip- 
tion and  through  illustration  he  makes  it  delightful  to  think  about  winter  birds,  to 
know  them,  to  serve  them,  to  have  them  appreciate  the  human  side  of  us. 


*"Our   Winter   Birds:    How    to    Know    and    How    to    Attract    Them."      By    Frank    AI. 
Chapman. 


954 


Index   to   \ Olunics   I,   II,   III,   I\,   \' 


Star  (*)  Indicates  Color  Plate 


About    Tarrots.     IV O'JS 

About   a   Sparrow.     IV C4:i 

Address  to  the  Woodlark.    IV 59T 

A  Few  of  tlic  Rird  Family.   V 78.")  • 

A  Little  Song.    V 'J07  • 

April    Rain.     Ill 44.T 

At  Morn  and  at  Eve.    II ~G7 

Audubon,  John  James.    Ill 40G 

Audubon's  Resting  Place.    II 34  4 

Autumn  Beauties.    Ill 50.'j 

Autumn   Day.   An.    II .'!44 

*Avocet,  The.    Ill •. 410 

Baby  Birds.    \' 935  • 

Back  Up  the  Game  Law.    1 172 

Baldpate.     Ill 3s9 

Behold  the  Birds !    II 305 

Before  and  After  Summer.   II 20.] 

Bird.  The.    1 175 

Birds.     II 2S'! 

Birds.     Ill 499 

Birds  and  Their  Young.    IV (■)S9 

Birds  and  Seasons  in  My  Garden.   III...  411 

Bird  and  the  Farmer.    II 225 

Birds  and  the  Citizen.    Ill 502 

Birds  and  Their  Songs.    I G2 

Birds  as  Preservers  of  Vegetation.   V...   903 » 

Bird  Calendar  by  the  Poets.    IV G55 

Bird  Citizens  in"  Winter.    II 204 

Birds  Christmas.    V 781  • 

Birds    Common    to   Field    and    Orchard. 

Ill 520 

Bird  Day.    II 272 

Birds  Destroy  Cotton-Boll  Weevil.   11...  274 

Bird  Family,  A  Few  of.   1 95 

Bird   Houses  and   Mow  to  Build   Them. 

IV 740 

Birds  in  Cemeteries.    1 113 

Birds  in  Orchard.    1 65 

Birds  in  Winter.    IV 605 

Birds  in  Winter  Fields.    1 9 

Birds  in  Southern  Hoosier  Hills.    II....  21.=j 

Birds  in  the  Lost  River  Valley.    II 251 

Bird  Law,  New.    1 59 

Birds.  More.    Ill 480 

Birds'  Names.    IV 620 

Bird   Neighbors.    II 278 

Birds'  Nests.    1 123 

Bird  Notes.   V 926  * 


Birds  of  a  Smoky  City.    II 218 

I'.irds  of   Killingworth.    II 215 

l'>irds  t)f  Town  and  Country.    Ill .106 

Birds  of  the  Prairie.    1 183 

Birds  That  Hunt.    II 289 

I'.ird  That  Sing  in  May.    1 77 

Birds  Sing.    1 154 

I'.irds.  Two  Little.    Ill 465 

*  Bittern,  The  Least.    II 282 

♦Blackbird,  The  Red  Winged.   II 202 

The  Rusty.  V 953  • 

*  The  Yellow  Headed.    V 938. 

♦Bluebird.     1 48-160 

The.      Ill 545 

The.    V 799  ' 

*  The  Mountain.    IV 579 

Blue  Jay,  Song  of.    Ill 544 

♦Bobolink.    1 22 

*Bob-White.    1 141 

II 352 

Eulogy.     II 209 

Brant.  The  Black.    II 353 

*  The   Black.     IV 756 

BufHehead.   Tiio.     Ill 469 

*  The.    IV 592 

^^Bunting,  The  Indigo.    Ill 550 

The  Lazuli.    Ill 387 

*  The   Painted.     HI 387 

*  The   Snow.    II 360 

P.urroughs,  John.    1 129 

Bush-Tit,  The.    II 344 

*  The.     V 818  • 

Buzzard.  The  Turkey.    II 363 

Canary  Bird.  The  Biography  of  a.    II..  376 

*Canvas  Back.    Ill 477-562 

♦Cardinal.     1 176 

The.    Ill 453 

♦Cassowary.     V 792  • 

♦Catbird,  The.    II 253 

Census,  Bird.    II 239 

♦Chat,  Yellow-Breasted.    1 144 

♦Chickadee.    1 20-47 

The.     II 200 

The.     HI 388 

The.    V 910  • 

Chicken.   The    Prairie.    Ill 423 

♦Cockatoo.  The  Rose-Breasted.    IV 681 

Comedy  and  Tragedy  in  Bird  Life.   III.. 444 


955 


Communion.    V 871' 

Coot,  The.    Ill 505 

The  American.    IV COT 

Courtin  Tarn,  In  De  Woodlan.    V 899» 

*Cormorant,  Brandts'.    IV 718 

*  The,  Double-Crested.    V : . .  788  ' 

*Cowbird,  The.    Ill 450 

*Crane,  The  Sandhill.    Ill 495 

The  Whooping.    IV 584 

*Creeper,  Brown.   1 110-119 

^Crossbill.    1 44 

*  The  White-Winged.   Ill 510 

*Crow,  The.    II 266 

The  Wise.    II 345 

Cuckoo,  A  Study  of.    IV 617 

Cuckoo,  The  Black-Billed.   V 865  v 

*  The  Yellow-Billed.    II 326 

*Curassows,  The  Crested.   IV 642 

*Curlew,  The  Eskimo.   Ill 442 

The  Hudson.    Ill 551 

*  The  Long-Billed.   Ill 546 

*Dipper,  The  American.   V 842  ' 

Do  Birds  Have  Sense.    1 24 

Dove  Not  a  Peace  Bird.   V 932  ; 

*Dove,  The  Mourning.  II 338 

*Dovekie,   The.    V 906* 

Dowitcher,  The  Crested.   IV 634 

Duck,  The  Black.    Ill 483 

The  Fulvous  Tree.    IV 619 

*  The  Fulvous  Tree.    V 934  • 

The  Great  Scaup.    V 857 ' 

The  Harlequin.   Ill 519 

*  The  Harlequin.   IV 664 

The  Labrador.  V 793  ^ 

*  The  Lesser  Scaup.  IV 729 

The  Ring-Necked.   V 856  • 

The  Ruddy.   IV 766 

*  The  Wood.    II 236 

The  Wood.    V 900  • 

Each  in  Its  Own  Way.    IV 645 

*Eagle,  The  Bald.    II 208 

*  The  Golden.    V 834^ 

Early  Autumn  Days.    IV 708 

Early  Spring.    II 275 

Echo  of  the  Heart.    V 791 ' 

Economic  Value  of  Birds.    1 97 

Eggs  of  Birds.   IV 667 

Egret,  White  Protecting.    II 210 

Eider,  The  King.   V 790  l 

The  Pacific.   V 856  ♦ 

The  Spectacled.    V 847  x 

The  Sleller's.  V 843  . 


English  Wild  Birds  for  British  Colum- 
bia.   II 299 

Far-Away  Days.  IV 753 

Feathered  Folks  Are  Worth  Knowing. 

Ill 449 

Feather,  Cost  of.    V 808  • 

Feeding  Winter  Birds.  II 223 

Feeding  Winter  Birds.    HI 397 

Feeding  Wild  Birds.   IV 609 

Few  Interesting  Facts  About  Bird  Mi- 
gration.   Ill 536 

Fifty  Kinds   of  Birds  Winter   in   New 

York.    IV 582 

Finch,  The  House.    Ill 399 

*  The  House.    V 784-* 

The  Purple.   II 375 

*  The   Purple.    Ill 394 

*Flicker,  The.    1 168 

Red-Shafted.   Ill 557 

*Flycatcher,  The  Ash-Throated.    III....  526 
The  Black.   V 789  » 

*  The  Olive-Sided.    V 876. 

*  The  Scissor-Tailed.    Ill 492 

*  The  Traill.  V 726 

Food  Habits  of  Birds.   IV 725-750 

Friends  of  Our  Forest.   V 825  » 

*Gadwall,  The.   V 838* 

*  The  Nest.  V 858  • 

^i^Gallinule,  The  Florida.   IV 625-748 

*  The  Purple.  II 223 

Getting  Ready  to  Welcome  the   Birds. 

Ill 417 

Geographical  Distribution  of  Birds.  IV.  598 

Glow-Worm  and  Mockingbird.    Ill 424 

Gnatcatchers.   The.    Ill 421 

Go  to  the  Birds,  Thou  Sluggard.   III. . .  513 

Godwit,  The  Hudsonian.    V 854* 

The  Marbled.    IV 736 

*  The  Marbled.    V 940  • 

*Golden-Eye,  The.   1 126 

The  Barrow's.  V 877  i 

*Goldfinch,  The.    I 6 

The.    V 844^ 

The  Arkansas.    Ill 549 

*  The  Nest.   V 820  ^' 

Goose,  The  Blue.    V 785  » 

The  Canada.    II 369 

*  The  Canada.    Ill 490 

The  Snow.   V 877% 

The  White-Fronted.   IT  1 426 

*  The  White-Fronted.    IV 580 

^Goshawk,  The  American.    HI 524 


956 


•Crackle,  The  Bronzed.    I J4 

*  The  Great-Tailed.    V y02  - 

•Grebe.  The  Horned.   Ill 4.'iS 

*  The   Picd-Bilied.    IV 594 

Grosbeak.  The  Black-Headc.l.    1 37 

*  The  Black-I leaded.   Ill                     ..  4:!7 
The  Blue.   IV 651 

*  The   Pine.    II 3.14 

*  The  Rose-Breasted.    1 133 

The  Rose-Breasted.    V 775  • 

Grosbeaks,  The.    Ill 486 

*Grousc,  The  Canada.    V 916  • 

*  The  Dusky.    II 346 

The  Franklin.    V 883  / 

*  The  Prairie  Sharp-Tailed.    Ill 430 

The  Spruce.  V 883  / 

*  The  RufTcd.  1 58 

Gull.  The  Franklin.   Ill 549 

The  Herring.    IV 715 

*  The  Ring-Billed.    II 3.54 

The  Sea.   V 778  . 

Haunts  of  Coot  and  Heron.   Ill 470 

*Ha\vk,  The  American  Sparrow.    IV....  612 

*  The  Broad-Winged.    V 880' 

The  Cooker's.   1 57 

*  The  Marsh.   1 75 

The  Marsh.    V 924  • 

*  The  Red-Shouldered.   1 146 

*  The  Red-Tailed.    1 120 

The  Red-Tailed.    IV 758 

*  The  Sharp-Shinned.   Ill 552 

The  Sparrow.   II 353 

*  The  Western  Red-Tailed.    IV 746 

Helping  the  Robin  to  Nest.   IV 665 

Hen.  The  Heath.   IV 736 

The  Prairie.    V 941* 

The  Sage.  V 882  « 

Heron,  The  Black-Crowned  Night.   III.   517 

*  The  Great  Blue.    II 302 

The  Great  Blue.    V 920, 

Hollyhocks,  The.    IV 633 

How  Birds  Find  Their  Way  Home.   II.  261 

How  Birds  Protect  Trees.   II 216 

How    Library    May    Stimulate    Local 

Bird   Study.    1 134 

How  Our  Birds  Spend  the  Winter.  III.  541 

How  the  Bluebirds  Came  Back.   Ill 428 

How  the  Woodpecker  Knows.   II 297 

How  to  Attract  Birds.    II 328 

How  to  Go  A-Birding.    II 257 

How  to  Study  Birds.   1 155 


•HumminKbird,  The  Black-Shinned.    IV.  742 

*  The  Broad-Tailed.  V 890  ' 

*  The   kivoli.    V 848' 

*  The  Ruby-Throated.   II 268 

The  Rufous.    1 164 

Hummingbirds,  The.    I\'..  ..  030 

*  I  I)is,  The  White-Faced  Glossy.    IV 616 

In  Defense  of  Our  heathcred  Friends. 

II 354 

I  Used  to  Kill  Birds.    II 211 

*Jay,  The  Blue.   1 3S-41-140 

The  Blue.    HI 481 

The   Blue-Fronted.    V 882^ 

*  The  Canada.  IV 033 

The  California.    II 271 

Jays,  Pacific  Coast.   HI 511 

*Junco,  The  Slate-Colored.    1 14 

The  Slate-Colored.    V 897  • 

Killdeer,  The.    II 301 

The.    V 901-948  . 

♦Kingbird,  The.    II 276 

The  Arkansas.    II 341 

*  The  Arkansas.    Ill 523 

♦Kingfisher,  The  Belted.    II 195 

Kinglet,  The  Golden-Crowned.   \' S38» 

*  The  Ruby-Crowned.   II 198 

The  Ruby-Crowned.    V 836-914  • 

♦Kite.  The   Everglade.    V 802* 

*  The  Swallow-Tailed.    IV 632 

Knot,  The.   V SSI . 

*  The,  or  Robin  Snipe.    V 904  • 

♦Lark,  The  Horned.    1 31 

♦Longspar,  The  Lapland.    Ill 438 

Looking  Toward  the  Light.   IV 743 

♦Loon,  The.    II 248 

♦Lory,  The  Blue  Mountain.  V 903  * 

Lunch  for  Winter  Birds.    IV 765 

♦Lyre  Bird,  The.   V 936  • 

Magpie,  The.    II 335 

*  The.    IV 654 

♦Mallard,  The.   II 322 

Martin,  The   Purple.    II 197-305 

*  The  Purple.   HI 400 

Martyrs  of  the  Woods.    IV 661 

Maytime.  IV 646 

♦Meadowlark,   The.    1 102-103 

The.    V 779  • 

Merganser,  The  American.  V 859  " 

*  The  Hooded.    Ill 570 

The  Red-Breasted.    V 860  . 


957 


Migrating  Birds.    II 337 

Migration  of  Birds.   IV 640 

*Mockingbird.   1 106-107 

Mockingbird,  The.    IV 585 

*Mot  Mot,  The  Mexican.   Ill 426 

*Murre,  The  Brunnich.    IV 694 

*Murrelet,  The  Marbled.    IV 634 

My  Birds.    1 127 

Nests,  Where  to  Look.   V 803  1 

Abandoned.    V 924, 

*Nighthawk.    1 174 

Our.    V 833- 

Nighthawk  and  Its  Ways.    Ill 568 

^Nightingale,  The.    II 364 

Nightingale  and  Glow-worm.   1 147 

Night  Flying  Birds.    V 783  . 

*Nutcracker,  The  Clarke's.    V 812". 

*Nuthatch,  The  White-Breasted.   II 298 

The  White-Breasted.    V 867  i 

Old  Head  Hunter.    V 912  » 

Oriole,  The  Audubon.    V 852i 

*  The  Baltimore.    1 180 

The  Bullock's.    1 96 

*  The  Golden.    II 216 

*  The  Orchard.    II..... 234 

Ornithology,  Romance  of.    1 165 

Osprey,  The.  II 239 

*  The.    Ill -..484 

Our  Bird  Neighbors.    1 33 

Our    Grosbeaks    and    Their    Value    to 

Agriculture.   Ill 454 

*Oven  Bird,  The.    Ill 498 

*Owl,  The  American  Barn.    IV 622 

The  Barn.    1 145-173 

*  The  Burrowing.   IV 744 

*  The  Great  Gray.    HI 410 

*  The  Great  Horned.   II 230 

*  The  Hawk.  IV 706 

*  The  Screech.    1 82 

*  The  Snowy.  II 207 

*Parrot,    The    Double    Yellow    Headed. 

IV 674 

*The  Owl.    IV 626 

*Peacock,  The.   II 296 

♦Petrel,  The  Wilson's.    II 342 

♦Pewee,  The  Wood.   1 154 

The  Wood.    V 867. 

*Phalarope,  The  Northern.    V 886  i 

*  The  Wilson.    IV 596 

*  The  Wilson  Nest.   V 922  > 


^Pheasant,  The  Golden.   II 290 

*  The  Impeyan.   V 771  ^ 

*  The  Ring-Necked.   II 312 

*Phoebe,  The.    II 260 

Pictures  of  Yesterday.   IV 675 

Pigeon,  The  Band-Tailed.  V 875  ► 

*  The  Passenger.    II 270 

The  Passenger.   IV 721 

*Pintail,  The.    IV 644 

Plea  of  the  English  Sparrow.   II 201 

*Plover,  The  Belted-Piping.    HI 482 

The  Black-Bellied.  V 884  -• 

The  Golden.  V 791 ' 

*  The  Snowy.    IV 590 

*  The  Upland.    II 314 

Protect  Our  Migratory  Birds.   Ill 540 

Protection  of  Birds  a  Farm  Asset.   IV..  646 

♦Ptarmigan,  The  White-Tailed.    V 776* 

*  The  Willow.    Ill 398 

*Pufifin,  The  Tufted.   HI 436 

Quail,  The  California.   HI 540 

*  The  Gambel's.  HI 518 

The  Merns.    V 860  ♦ 

The  Mountain.    V 949  ' 

The  Scaled.   V 939  » 

The  Valley.   V 935  » 

Rail,  The  Clapper.    V 952  • 

*  The  King.    HI 466 

*  The  King  Nest.    V 950  » 

*  The  Yellow.  IV 658 

Red-Bird,  The.    1 189 

Redhead,  The.    V 851. 

*Redstart,  The.    II 228 

Return  of  the  Birds.    V 782  ^ 

Return  of  the  Birds.  V 821* 

Road-Runner,  The.    II 341 

*  The.    V 786 » 

♦Robin,  The.    1 42-87 

The.    IV 591 

Robin,  To  the.    IV 621 

Robin,  To  the.    V 824  ^ 

Robin,  Our  Cornrade.    V 794^ 

Robin's  Counat% 807  « 

Robin's  Song,  The.    IV 705 

Sanderling.     V 928  • 

Sandpiper,   The.    1 133 

The  Pectoral.    V 925  i 

The  Spotted.   HI 509 

The  Spotted.   V 850  • 

♦Sapsucker,  The  Yellow-Bellied.    II....  212 
Save  the  Birds.    IV 757 


958 


*Scoter.  The  Surf.    \  ..92S-944  . 

The  Whitc-WinKL.l.    \' 92j  • 

Shall  America's  Songsters  Be  Slaught- 
ered'    II 324 

Shall  \Vc  Feed  the  Hirds?.  Ill .'.4s 

Shall  \Vc  Kill  Ilim?    Ill S.'.s 

Shall  \Vc  Save  the  Quail  from  I'.xtermi- 

nation?    Ill 440 

•Shoveller.   The.    V 846? 

♦Shrike.  The  Loggerhead.    IV RIO 

*  The  .Northern.    Ill :tlto 

Siskin.    The    Pine.     IV 710 

Skylark.  Our.    V 823' 

*  The.    II   244 

To    A.     11 232 

♦Snipe,  The  Wilson.    IV 602 

Some  Beneficial  Birds  and  Their   Pro- 
tection.   Ill    401 

Some  Odd  Bits  of  Bird  Life.   1 49 

Some  Wonders  of  Bird  Migration.   II..  364 

Song  of  the  Poplar.    Ill 543 

Songsters  of  the  Skokie.    II 2S4 

Sora.  The.     II 300 

Sparrow.     V 801  • 

Sparrow,  The  English  .Xs  a  Pest.    III..   494 

Sparrow,   The.    IV 627 

The   Ciiipping.     I\' 635 

*  The  Chipping.    II 2S3-3G6 

The    English.    1 101-173 

Sparrow,  The  English.  V 861  • 

The  English.    Ill 443 

*  The   Field.    IV 628 

*  The  Fox.    1 56 

*  The  Harris.   V 816  » 

The    House.     Ill 431 

The  Lark.    1 153 

*  The   Urk.    V 774. 

*  Tlie  Leconte's.    IV 7:58 

*  The  Savanna.   Ill 464 

*  The   Song.     1 178 

The  Song.    V 840 1 

*  The  Vesper.    1 118 

The  White  Crowned.    1 103 

*  The  White  Throated.    II 281-336 

Sparrows  and  Sparrows.    1 148 

Spirit  of  Nature  Study.    IV 761 

♦Spoonbill.  The  Roseate.    V 874' 

Spring.    II 281 

Spring  Birds  on  the  Kankakee.    1 70 

♦Starling.   The.     II 374 

Story  of  the  Wren.    IV^ 648 

Study  of  Birds,  The.    IV 713 

Summer  Haunts  of  Birds.    Ill 533 


•Sun  Bird.  The  Philippine.   V «22  • 

•Swallow.  The  Barn.   1 17 

The   ClifT.    Ill 483 

♦  The   Tree.    Ill 476-566 

The  N'iolet  Green.    V ft.'>4  • 

Swallow,  In  Praise  of.    V 905  • 

Swan.  The   Musical.    IV 731 

*Swif t.  The  Chinuiey.    1 80 

•Tanager,  The  Scarlet.    1 16 

Taiiager  Pe()i)le,  The.    Ill 572 

Teal.   The   I'duc-Winged.    V 893  • 

♦Tern.  The  Black.    I . .  .96-148 

♦  The   Caspian.    IV 652 

♦  The  Common.    II 280 

Thaw.   The.     Ill 530 

They    Didn't   Think.    Ill 469 

Things   Divine,  The.    IV 636 

Thoughts  for  the  Discouraged  Farmer. 

IV   722 

♦Thrasher,  The  Brown.    1 8 

♦  The    California.     V 878  | 

Thrush,  The.    II 161 

The.     II 291 

♦  The  r.ray-Cheeked.    Ill 468 

♦  The  Hermit.    II 310 

The    Hermit.     V S52  . 

The  Russet-Backed.    V 7^0- 

The  Varied.    II 256 

♦  The  Varied.    \' 866  « 

♦  The   Wood.     1 170 

The    Wood.     V 909  • 

Thrush,  The  Brown  Singers.    V 918  » 

Titmouse,  The.   Ill 571 

♦  The  European  Crested.    IV 716 

♦  The  Tufted.    V 891-930* 

To  a  Sea-Bird.   IV 653 

To  a  Waterfowl.   II 373 

♦Toucan,  The  Yellow  Throated.  V 912  ♦ 

♦Towhee,   The.    1 131 

♦  The  .\rctic.    V 893  • 

♦  The  California.    V 780  • 

The  California  Brown.    \' 781 » 

♦  The  White-Eyed.    IV 760 

Tragedy  in  Birdland.    1 121 

Trail  of  Pokagon.   II 356 

♦Turkey.  The  Wild.    1 162 

Utility  of  Birds  in  Nature.    II 89 

Valentine,  My.    Ill '. 389 

♦  Veery.  The.    1 84 

The.    V 872  • 


959 


*Vireo,  The  Red-Eyed.    1 88 

*  The  Warbling.    Ill 560 

The  White-Eyed.    V 929-943' 

The  Yellow-Throated.    1 137 

Warbler,  The  Audubons.    II 199 

*  The  Bay  Breasted.    II 340 

*  The  Black  and  White.   1 190 

The  Blackburnian.   IV 723 

*  The    Black-Poll.    Ill 405 

*  The  Black-Throated  Blue.   Ill 500 

The  Black-Throated  Green.   IV....  717 

*  The  Black-Throated  Green.    V....  946 « 

*  The  Blue-Winged.    1 94 

*  The   Canadian.     1 136 

The  Cape  May.    IV 711 

*  The  Chestnut-Sided.    IV 586 

The  Connecticut.    IV 747 

The  Golden-Winged.    IV 707 

*  The  Hooded.    IV 720 

*  The  Kentucky.    IV 686 

*  The  Magnolia.    Ill 556 

*  The  Myrtle.    1 46 

The   Nashville.     IV 641 

The  Northern   Parula.    IV 693 

*  The  Orange-Crowned.    Ill 478 

*  The  Palm.   Ill 514 

*  The  Parula.    Ill 536 

The    Pine.     IV 665 

*  The  Prairie.    IV 688 

*  The    Prothonotary.     Ill 420 

*  The  Swainson's.    V 844  ' 

*  The  Tennessee.   IV 673-754 

*  The  Townsend's.    Ill 533 

The  Worm-Eating.     IV 675 

*  The  Worm-Eating.    V 870  » 

*  The  Yellow.    1 104 

The  Yellow.    II 214 

Warblers,  The.    1 85 

Warblers,   The.    IV 659 

*Water-Thrust,  The  Louisiana.   Ill 422 

The  Northern.    IV 746 


*Waxing,  The  Cedar.    Ill 427-460 

*  The  Bohemian.   IV 676 

We  Thank  Thee.   1 40 

What  Bird  Life  Means  to  Us.    Ill 516 

*Wheatear,  The.    IV 712 

When  Sir  Oriole  Comes.    II 321 

Where  the  Black  Tern  Builds.    II 347 

Whip-Poor-Will,  The.    II 240 

*Whip-Poor-Will   Time.     II 243 

Widgeon,  The  European.   V 841 » 

*Willett,  The  Western.   IV 660 

Winter   Birds.    IV 739 

Winter    Birds.    V 772  ► 

Wisconsin  Bird  Convention.   II 292 

Woodcock,  The.    IV 714 

Woodpecker,  The  California.   1 188  >— 

The  California.    V 813  « 

*  The  Downy.    1 112 

*  The  Green.    V 8144 

*  The  Hairy.    II 370 

*  The  Pileated.    IV 662 

*  The   Red-Headed.    1 66 

Woodpecker.     V 896  \ 

*Wren,  The  Bewick's.     V 806  • 

*  The  House.    1 78 

The  House.    V 884-894  I 

*  The  Long-Billed  Marsh.    II 238 

*  The   Short-Billed   Marsh.    Ill 452 

*  The  Winter.     II 372 

Wren  Family,  The.   II 279 

Wren,  Little  Brown.    V 790^ 

Wren,  To  a  Wood's.   V 855  • 

Yellowhead,  The.    IV 608 

*Yellow-Legs,  The.  Ill 538 

*  The   Greater.     IV 696 

Yellow-Throat,  The  Maryland.    1 137 

*  The  Maryland.   II 362 

The  Maryland.    V 787-869  \ 

Your  Bird  Friends.  IV 678 


960 


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