BIOLOGY 
 R 
 G 
 

HAVVK OWL. 
 
OUR BIRDS 
 
 IN 
 
 THEIR HAUNTS: 
 
 A POPULAR TREATISE ON THE BIRDS OF 
 EASTERN NORTH AMERICA. 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. J. HIBBERT LANGILLE, M. A. 
 
 How pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
 Flitting about in each leafy tree; 
 In the leafy trees, so broad and tall, 
 Like a green and beautiful palace hall, 
 With its airy chambers, light and boon, 
 That open to sun and stars and moon, 
 That open into the bright blue sky, 
 And the frolicsome winds as they wander by." 
 
 MARY HOWITT. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 S. E. CASSINO & COMPANY. 
 
 1884. 
 

 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, 
 
 BY J. H. LANGILLE, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
To DR. ELLIOTT COUES, 
 
 WHOSE PRINTED WORKS, PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 AND 
 
 GREAT PERSONAL KINDNESS, 
 
 / 
 
 HAVE BEEN OF INESTIMABLE VALUE TO ANY SUCCESS 
 POSSIBLE FOR THIS BOOK, 
 
 IT IS 
 
 GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY 
 DEDICATED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 382690 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 HPHE first aim of this work is to render as popular and 
 attractive as possible, as well as to bring within a 
 small compass, the sum total of the bird-life of Eastern 
 North America. I have therefore given brief descriptions, 
 and for the most part full life histories, of all the species 
 commonly east of the Mississippi, giving special attention 
 to the songs and nesting, and dwelling upon the curious 
 and fascinating, of which there is so much in the lives of 
 these wonderful creatures. The narrative follows, in the 
 main, the order of the seasons, and groups itself about 
 certain interesting localities, as Niagara River and St. Clair 
 Flats, for instance. I give a good deal of attention to 
 migration, instinct, the analogy of nidification, the special- 
 ized forms and adaptations of structure in birds, etc., 
 endeavoring particularly to make all this readable. Par- 
 ticularly do I note the many evidences of a Designing 
 Intelligence in this department of nature. Hence the 
 
^ V .^ T! ^ "1 " +' 
 
 6 PREFACE. 
 
 author addresses himself especially to men of his own 
 profession the gospel ministry; and would earnestly urge 
 them to become, as far as possible, the interpreters of 
 nature as well as of the written word. Thus may they come 
 most fully into sympathy with the Great Teacher, who 
 pointed to the " fowls of the air " and the " lilies of the 
 field " as the most instructive object-lessons of a practical 
 faith. Let the pastor go with the little ones of his flock 
 to see the nest of the Oriole in the orchard, or of the 
 Pewee under the bridge; and he will not only go to the 
 orchard and to the bridge, but he will find his way into 
 the little heart. If he cannot become a naturalist, he 
 may acquire, at least, a general intelligence of natural 
 objects, thus finding many hours of healthful and happy 
 recreation, furnishing his own mind with food for thought, 
 and discovering ready avenues to other minds. In this 
 day of almost universal thirst for natural science, the 
 minister can ill afford to be ignorant of the natural world 
 around him. Happy, indeed, will it be for his ministry 
 if, instead of leaving the interpretation of nature to the 
 ungodly and the atheistic, he may show to the people 
 the thoughts of an infinitely wise and good Creator 
 embodied in the universe. What is said to the preacher 
 on this topic may apply also to the Sunday School teacher, 
 and, indeed, should apply to the secular teacher of every 
 grade. 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 The farmers of our country are, for the most part, a 
 very intelligent class, as the writer well knows from per- 
 sonal intercourse with them. Many of them might, and 
 should be, amateur naturalists. This would turn many 
 an hour of field -labor into a recreation, and could not 
 fail to be an important aid in the education of their 
 families. A. popular book, giving a pleasing account of 
 the habits and characters of the birds of the garden, 
 the orchard, the field and the forest, would be a work of 
 frequent reference, and might afford many an hour of 
 leisurely reading in connection with more or less obser- 
 vation, and thus would be a constant source of pleasure 
 and profit. 
 
 In short, I have tried to meet a wide demand never 
 yet met in this country to have a book on birds for every- 
 body. I write almost entirely from personal observation, 
 incorporating in my work a full report for Western New 
 York and the adjoining regions of the Great Lakes, and 
 a pretty full report for Nova Scotia; also a good deal of 
 direct information from Hudson's Bay, by means of an 
 excellent correspondent. This last feature of original 
 investigation should specially commend the work to the 
 scientist. 
 
 I would here acknowledge the cordial aid received 
 through correspondence with a large circle of naturalists 
 and amateurs, whose names appear in different parts of 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 the work ; and also the great personal kindness in the 
 way of friendly entertainment, on the part of a large 
 circle of friends, during many years of travel and inves- 
 tigation over different parts of the field under review. 
 
 The illustrations, which should add much to the character 
 of the book, have been nearly all furnished by Dr. Coues, 
 whose scientific nomenclature, as given in his former works, 
 I have adopted throughout. On this subject, now so much 
 in distress, I claim no authority; and those wishing the 
 check-list of the Smithsonian Institution can easily procure 
 
 it. 
 
 J. H. LANGILLE. 
 
 June 26th, 1884. 
 
 BUFFALO, N. Y. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 
 HOAR-FROST. 
 
 IT was early winter. The ground was covered with snow, 
 but the atmosphere had been laden with a dense falling 
 mist. The temperature falling below the freezing point, 
 throughout the night a zephyr-like wind from the north- 
 east continued to crystallize the moisture on every object, 
 arraying the landscape in a most magnificent hoar-frost. 
 The delicate plumose or spinulose ornaments increased every 
 twig and spear of grass to many times its size. The spray of 
 trees and shrubs seemed almost as dense as when arrayed in 
 a young foliage; telegraph wires were as thick as cables; 
 and the delicate array of spinulose plumes on the evergreens 
 was of greater magnitude than their own dark covering. 
 The exquisite delicacy and beauty of the patterns of crystal- 
 lization were indescribable. The whole landscape was a 
 charming fairy-land. The genius of a Greek mind might 
 well have conceived that all the hosts of rural and sylvan 
 deities had been at work; while, in this inimitable robe of 
 snow-white purity, the Christian theist might read the 
 thoughts of Him who is the Author of the beautiful, as well 
 as of the true and the good. 
 
10 THE HORNED LARK. 
 
 THE HORNED LARK. 
 
 In the dead calm every object was motionless. Perfect 
 stillness reigned. The slightest sound was awakening. 
 What could be more pleasing to the lover of nature at such 
 a time than the graceful flight and the musical notes of 
 birds ? Ever and anon, small, loose flocks of Horned Larks 
 (Eremophila alpestris) appeared, alighting in the fields and 
 along the highway; and they seemed as social and happy as 
 so many Frenchmen, as they flew, and ran, and squatted, 
 and hopped, vying with each other in their soft conversa- 
 tional tseep) tseepes. 
 
 This is one of the most characteristic birds of Western 
 New York. In Orleans County, and westward, throughout 
 the year, unless it be in December, there is none which one 
 is more liable to meet. Though in much smaller flocks, it 
 may as frequently appear in the snow-storm as the Snow 
 Bunting, and is much more common in the finer weather of 
 midwinter than the Goldfinch or the Lesser Redpoll. From 
 the frozen fields or the frost-clod fence it greets us with its 
 song already in early February, several weeks before we 
 hear the soft warble of the Bluebird, or the resonant notes 
 of the Song Sparrow, and so gives us the first bird-song of 
 the year. When the earth is soaked and the air is chilled from 
 the thaws of spring, it is as merry and chipper and full of 
 song as ever. It is amidst the merry throngs of May, trav- 
 erses the heated dust of the highway in July and August, 
 and in the mild, hazy days of Indian summer, gives forth a 
 respectable echo of its more vigorous song of the breeding 
 season. Until very recently the breeding habitat of this 
 species has been wholly consigned to the far north; but it is 
 now well understood that it breeds abundantly in the lake 
 counties of Western New York, and more or less to the 
 eastward as far as Troy, raising two broods, the first being 
 
THE HORNED LARK. 11 
 
 very early. Rev. Wm. Elgin, of Rochester, N. Y., a com- 
 petent observer, writes to me as follows: "On the 28th of 
 April, 1875, I discovered in the Park, near the lake at Buffalo, 
 the nest of a pair of Horned Larks, containing four young 
 birds which I took to be at least eight days old. I had 
 observed the parent birds in that locality early in the 
 month, and had been watching their movements ever since, 
 being convinced from their actions, when first noticed, that 
 they were nesting. But my search was not rewarded till 
 the day above named. When the parent birds were first 
 seen, the ground was bare, but about the 10th there fell 
 several inches of snow, which lay on the ground several 
 days, during which time the temperature frequently fell 
 almost to zero. Under these circumstances, it seemed to 
 me a marvel that any of the eggs hatched, since the bird 
 must have been sitting while the ground and in fact her- 
 self was covered with snow. Yet the nest was admirably 
 contrived for this weather, being placed in a small basin 
 scooped out of the level ground, and carefully lined with 
 fine dried grass, the top being on a level with the surface. 
 Such a case of nidification certainly argues a marked 
 degree of hardihood in the species. Another circumstance, 
 which fell under my observation, would tend also to con- 
 firm this opinion. On the 7th of April, 1878, near the 
 village of Wayne, Steuben County, I observed a female 
 Horned Lark feeding a pair of young in the road; the 
 young being so far matured as to be able to fly from the 
 road to the fence, a distance of fully three rods. In this 
 case the nest must have been begun early in March." 
 
 These instances accord with the nests reported as found 
 near Racine, Wisconsin, while the snow was on the ground. 
 
 On the 6th of April, 1880, as I was crossing a meadow a 
 few days after a snow-fall of some three or four inches, a 
 
12 THE HORNED LARK. 
 
 female Horned Lark flew out from under the snow near my 
 feet. Thrusting my finger carefully through the cold cov- 
 ering, I touched the eggs, still warm; and picking out care- 
 fully the snow which had fallen into the nest as the bird 
 left it, I found four eggs about half incubated. Who would 
 not be impressed with the fidelity of this bird to her charge, 
 thus allowing herself to be snowed over, and continuing to 
 sit, as she no doubt would have done, till she thawed out 
 again ? 
 
 The second set of eggs is laid in June. The full fledged 
 young are of a mottled gray color, somewhat like the first 
 plumage of young Screech Owls. The nest is made of 
 stubble, rootlets, and dried grasses, sometimes having a little 
 wool or horse-hair in the lining. It is well sunken into the 
 ground, and is generally a frail, loose and inartistic struct- 
 ure. The eggs, commonly four, about .88 x .62, are gray- 
 ish-white, thickly speckled all over with greenish-brown, 
 having a similar under-marking of pale lilac or purplish- 
 brown. They cannot be easily mistaken for any other eggs 
 in this locality. 
 
 Mr. James Booth, of Drummondville, Ontario, for over 
 thirty years a distinguished taxidermist for Niagara Falls, 
 Buffalo, and the region round about, says that the Horned 
 Larks did not breed here formerly; that this southern ex- 
 tension of their breeding habitat is a recent and noticeable 
 change. With this corresponds the testimony of Mr. T. 
 Mcllwraith, of Hamilton, Ont. 
 
 Audubon found the nests of this species common on the 
 moss-clad coasts of Labrador. Mr. James Fortiscue, an 
 excellent correspondent of mine, who is chief factor of the 
 Hudson's Bay Company at York Factory, reports it as a 
 summer resident about Hudson's Bay, building its nest " in 
 grass along the coast." 
 
THE HORNED LARK. 13 
 
 The species has been known to breed in Canada West, in 
 southern Iowa, Indiana, and in the northwest generally, while 
 one variety is known to breed in New Mexico. This latter 
 variety is said to be smaller and brighter colored than the 
 common type, while that of the northwest is larger and 
 lighter in color. As one approaches the Atlantic States, 
 the Horned Lark is irregularly migratory in large flocks; 
 this common type being in no respect different from its 
 European representative. 
 
 Ordinarily the Horned Lark is strictly terrestrial. When 
 alighted it is most commonly seen resting on the ground 
 or walking; it is a great walker, maintaining its center of 
 gravity by a graceful, dove-like motion of the head. Seldom, 
 if ever, is it seen in a tree, aspiring, when at rest, merely to 
 the top rail of the fence. It has one trick, however, stfangely 
 in contrast with its ordinary lowliness, and which once 
 greatly perplexed me. It was a sunny afternoon, late in 
 May. Hearing its song, now quite familiar to me, I strolled 
 warily through the open field, hoping to find its nest. But 
 whence came the song? It was as puzzling as the voice of 
 a ventriloquist. Now it seemed on the right, and now on 
 the left, and now in some other direction. Presently I 
 caught the way of the sound, and lo ! its author was soaring 
 high in air, moving in short curves up, up, singing for a few 
 moments as it sailed with expanded wings before each 
 flitting curve upward, till it became a mere speck in the 
 zenith, and finally I could scarcely tell whether I saw it 
 or not. But I still heard the song, one that never can be 
 mistaken, so unlike is it to that of any other bird. At first 
 one is at a loss whether to be pleased with it, and is 
 tempted to compare it to the screaking of an ungreased 
 wheelbarrow. " Quit, quit, quit, you silly rig and get away" it 
 seems to say: the first three or four syllables being slowly 
 
14 THE HORNED LARK. 
 
 and distinctly uttered, and the rest somewhat hurriedly run 
 together. However, like the faces and voices of certain 
 people, this ditty sweetens on acquaintance, and finally be- 
 comes a real source of pleasure. 
 
 But I must not be diverting. I am still looking into the 
 deep blue, when the black speck unmistakably reappears, 
 and gradually enlarges as the bird approaches. Down, 
 down it comes, meteor-like, with wings almost closed, until 
 one fears it will dash out its life on the earth. But no, 
 it alights in safety, and steps along with all its wonted 
 stateliness, dividing the time between its luncheon and its 
 song. Many a time since, and sometimes as early as the last 
 days of February, I have witnessed the same maneuver, 
 and always with renewed pleasure. So Bayard Taylor is 
 not mistaken after all, when, in his " Spring Pastoral," he 
 speaks of 
 
 " Larks responding aloft to the mellow flute of the Bluebird." 
 
 And though the song of our bird can bear no comparison 
 to the astounding song-flights of the European Skylark, 
 their similarity of manner indicates the relationship of the 
 two species. 
 
 In the northwest, on the prairies about the Upper Missouri 
 and its tributaries, is the Missouri Skylark, so admirably 
 described by Dr. Coues, and which, in its lofty flight and 
 great powers of song, seems scarcely if at all second to the 
 famous bird of the Old World. 
 
 The Horned Lark is 7 7.50 inches long, somewhat larger 
 than our ordinary-sized sparrow, its shape being about as 
 peculiar as its voice. The bill is rather long for a song- 
 bird, quite pointed, and a little curved; on its head are two 
 tufts of erectile black feathers, from which it receives part 
 of its common name. As in the case of other larks, but 
 unlike the rest of the song birds, the scales of the leg extend 
 
THE LESSER REDPOLL. 15 
 
 around behind; and its hind claw is very long and straight. 
 This lark is always in a squatting position, with drooping 
 tail when at rest. With a long, black patch on each cheek, 
 a somewhat triangular black spot on the upper part of the 
 breast, reddish light-brown above and dull white beneath, 
 with yellow throat, long pointed wings tipped with black, 
 and a tail of 'the same color, a peculiar undulating flight 
 often accompanied with a soft tseep or tseepes, whether sitting, 
 walking, or flying, this bird readily appeals to the eye of the 
 observer. It was formerly placed in the Fringillidce family 
 among the sparrows and their relatives, but now stands with 
 a Lark family, formed by later ornithologists. In the main, 
 it is a seed-eating species, but also subsists largely on in- 
 sects. 
 
 THE LESSER REDPOLL. 
 
 On this same day of indescribably beautiful hoar-frost my 
 garden was visited by an immense flock of birds, common 
 throughout New England and the Middle States during 
 winter, but resident in the more northern climes in summer. 
 They came in a cloud, the graceful curves of their undulating 
 flight intersecting each other at all angles, while here and 
 there one seemed to be describing unusually long, sweeping 
 curves amidst the dense moving mass, as if throwing out a 
 challenge to its more moderate companions. Cree-cree-cree- 
 cree, skree-shree-shree-shree, coming in soft, lisping voices from 
 hundreds of little throats, at once swells into a grand volume 
 of sound, which indicates that nearly all are taking part in 
 the animated conversation. They alight indiscriminately 
 on trees, shrubs, and weeds, and also on the ground, and 
 begin their search for food. Taking alarm readily, they 
 resort to the leafless tree-tops in the vicinity, or, rising high, 
 they leave the spot. This is decidedly our most beauti- 
 ful bird of the winter. About the size of a canary, 5-5.50 
 
16 THE LESSER REDPOLL. 
 
 and 8.50 in extent, the general color of the upper parts is 
 a rich dark brown, every feather being delicately fringed 
 with grayish white; around the base of the bill and extend- 
 ing down the throat is a band of dusky black; the top of the 
 head is bright glossy crimson; on the lower part of the 
 back, where the feathers are so deeply fringed with white 
 that the brown almost disappears, there is a slight touch of 
 carmine; and in the mature male the breast and under parts, 
 which are ordinarily white streaked with brown on the sides, 
 are finely tinged with rose-color. How these delicate tints 
 of rose and carmine set off the winter landscape, appearing 
 as gay as peach-blossoms in the leafless brown of early 
 spring. Redpoll is a member of the same family with the 
 sparrows (the Fringillida). From its noticeable resemblance 
 to them and its delicately-tinted breast, it is sometimes 
 called the Rose-breasted Sparrow, but is commonly known 
 as the Lesser Redpoll. Dr. Coues gives the habitat of the 
 Redpoll (/Egiothus linaria), "From Atlantic to Pacific, 
 ranging irregularly southward in flocks in winter, to the 
 Middle States (sometimes a little beyond) and corresponding 
 latitudes in the west." As to its breeding, he cites Audu- 
 bon, who says that it breeds "in Maine, Nova Scotia, New- 
 foundland, Labrador and the fur countries." The latter 
 also describes the eggs as from four to six in number, 
 measuring five-eighths of an inch in length, rather more than 
 half an inch in diameter, and pale bluish-green in color, 
 sparingly dotted with reddish-brown toward the larger end. 
 Mr. C. O. Tracy, of Taftsville, Vt., says in the Ornithol- 
 ogist and Oologist, June, 1883: "The last of March, 1878, I 
 found the nest and eggs of this species. The nest, now 
 before me, is composed of fine, dry twigs, dried grasses, 
 fine strips of fibrous bark, bits of twine, hair, fibrous roots, 
 moss, dried leaves, pieces of cocoons, feathers, thistle-down, 
 
THE CHICKADEE. 17 
 
 and other material, which are neatly woven together into a 
 compact structure and lined with hair. It was placed very 
 loosely among the top branches of a small spruce, about six 
 feet from the ground, and contained three fresh eggs of a 
 very pale bluish-green color, sparingly marked with spots 
 and splashes of different shades of brown at the larger end. 
 Dimensions, 72 X 48, 72 X 47, 71 X 48." 
 
 I once saw several of these birds which Mr. Bing of 
 Rochester had trapped and trained. One had a soft belt 
 around his body, under his wings, to which was fastened a 
 small chain and a bucket about as big as a thimble, with 
 which he drew water out of a deep dish, and drank. 
 Another had a tiny car on a platform outside the cage; and 
 as this little vehicle was fastened to the inside of the cage 
 by a chain and contained his food, he would draw it in 
 whenever he wished a repast. Even after witnessing all 
 this, I felt that, to me, the bird was but a stranger, for I 
 had never heard its song nor seen its nest. A closely allied 
 species or variety is found in Europe. The so-called Mealy 
 Redpoll may be regarded as a paler variety of the common 
 Redpoll an Arctic race, not difficult to recognize, repre- 
 senting in America the true Mealy Redpoll (A. canescens) 
 of Greenland. The broad, whitish fringe of the plumage, 
 the elegant rose-white rump, and the pale, rosy breast give 
 a peculiar delicate beauty to this variety. 
 
 THE CHICKADEE. 
 
 I have finished my morning ramble, and am fairly seated in 
 my study, when lo ! a familiar voice calls me to the window. 
 Chickadee -dee-dee, chick, chick, chickadee, . chickadee-dee-dee-dee ; 
 most cheerful and winning voice of a winter's day ! There 
 they are, little Black-capped Titmice or Chickadees, finding 
 a satisfactory repast in those frosted evergreens, where my 
 
18 THE CHICKADEE. 
 
 eyes can detect nothing of the kind; standing upright, 
 tipping forward, stretching upward, leaning to right and 
 left, or hanging by the feet ; so brimful of contentment, 
 so sweet-spirited and confiding, with so much of the sun- 
 shine of hope in their voices, that they are a most signifi- 
 cant reproof to querulous, unsatisfied human nature. 
 
 Those above given are far from being the only notes of 
 the Black-capped Chickadee (Parus atricapillus], if they 
 have christened him. They seem to be especially his win- 
 ter song, whether he be in the door-yard, in the deep 
 forest, or in the crowded town; and the same vocal per- 
 formance can hardly be said to characterize him in summer, 
 though it is then occasionally heard. Throughout the year, 
 but especially in the breeding season, he has many quaint 
 little notes, sounding very much like subdued and familiar 
 conversation. Tse-de-yay, tse-de-yay; tsip, tsip; and a soft, 
 almost indescribable, peep, peep, are among his common 
 utterances in secluded parts of the deep forest. How 
 much of the happy, inner life of these little creatures may 
 be communicated in these soft, musical phrases ! But that 
 which pre-eminently constitutes the song of the Chickadee 
 is a soft, elfin whistle of two notes, heard occasionally even 
 in midwinter, but most commonly in the breeding season 
 Whee-hee. The former syllable is in the rising and the 
 latter in the falling inflection; the whole being uttered in a 
 soft, plaintive, tremulous, melting tone, which almost re- 
 strains one's breath while listening. It is the voice of 
 pathethic tenderness, and makes one feel how much of 
 conscious life may vibrate in the breast of a tiny bird. 
 
 Long years did I wait after becoming an ornithologist 
 before I could get a glimpse of the nest of the Chickadee. 
 On a beautiful, sunny 24th of May, in a thicket of Tona- 
 wanda Swamp, while I was studying the song of the Black- 
 
THE CHICKADEE. 19 
 
 throated Green Warbler, a Chickadee dropped into the side 
 of an old stump, just a few feet before me. The hole 
 which it entered was near the top, about two feet and a 
 half from the ground; and as the stump was mellow, it 
 was not many mmutes before I had sufficiently enlarged 
 the passage with my jack-knife to get a good view of the 
 inside. I have often felt the subduing influence of the 
 familiar, trustful ways of this little bird, but never did it 
 seem so gentle and confiding as now, peering up at me with 
 such a mingled look of surprise and firmness, which, to say 
 the least, was very disconcerting to an oologist. The exca- 
 vation was new, and evidently made by the bird itself. The 
 nest consisted of a loose but well-made felt of moss, fibres 
 of bark, down and hair. For safety and softness few nests 
 could surpass it. The seven eggs were a little smaller than 
 those of the common Wren, some .64 x .51, of a delicate, 
 flesh-tinted white, minutely dotted with red, the marks 
 thickening and running together at the large end. In all 
 respects this nest is representative. The nesting of any 
 bird, however, is subject to variation. Sometimes the 
 Chickadee makes its own excavation in a green tree, and 
 sometimes it appropriates the abandoned nest of the Downy 
 Woodpecker. It feeds especially on the larvae and eggs of 
 insects. 
 
 About the size of a canary, some 5-5.25 long, and 7.75-8.25 
 in extent, its bill is short, somewhat thick, straight and 
 strong; its head is large and its neck short, body plump 
 and tail longish; it is deep, glossy black on the head, down 
 the back of the neck and on the throat; cheeks pure white; 
 upper parts dark drab, much lighter and yellowish on the 
 rump; and of the same color, or somewhat lighter, under- 
 neath. These markings are strongly contrasted, and render 
 the bird a conspicuous object at any time of year; but at 
 
20 THE PINE GROSBEAK. 
 
 no time is one so forcibly impressed with the beauty, as 
 also with the familiarity, of this gentle little creature as 
 when meeting it in the depth of the forest on a bleak win- 
 ter's day. Then the flock appear like bright and gracefully 
 moving ornaments on the dark evergreens or leafless spray. 
 Then this bird becomes the familiar companion of the soli- 
 tary woodman, and will even venture to light on his arm 
 and take from his hand the crumbs of his luncheon. 
 
 The Chickadee belongs to the Titmouse or Paridcz family, 
 and has many near relatives, such as the Mountain Chicka- 
 dee, Chestnut-back Chickadee, Long-tailed Chickadee, etc., 
 which resemble it very closely. Our species is a bird of the 
 Northeastern States, extending to Alaska, replaced from 
 Maryland and Illinois southward by the Carolina Titmouse, 
 which Mr. Maynard regards as simply a smaller variety of 
 the same species. About the size of our Black-cap, and in 
 all respects similiar in habit, is the Hudson's Bay Titmouse 
 (Parus hudsonius]. The jet black on the crown of the 
 former is replaced by an elegant brown; the pure white on 
 the cheeks by a grayish white; the back and sides are also 
 tinged with brown; otherwise, their similarity in marking is 
 close. Hudsonius is common to British North America, 
 breeding as far south as Maine. I found it very common 
 in Nova Scotia. Its strongly characterized note cheet-a-day- 
 day-day, cheet-a-day, uttered in a rather low key, may always 
 distinguish it. 
 
 THE PINE GROSBEAK. 
 
 As I go out through the front yard during the forenoon, I 
 almost run my head into a flock of Pine Grosbeaks (Pinicola- 
 enucleator)) feeding eagerly on the berries of a mountain ash. 
 The hoar-frost falls in a cloud as a dozen or more of them 
 shake the spray and the branches in taking their food. 
 About 8.50 in length, this species is very robust and plump,, 
 
THE PINE GROSBEAK. 21 
 
 with a short, thick, almost hawk-like bill, and the tail 
 slightly notched. The general color of the old male is 
 bright crimson-red, the feathers, especially on the back, 
 
 THE PINE GROSBEAK. 
 
 showing elegant centers of dusky ash; the lores, the sides 
 of the head and body, and the under tail coverts, ashy; two 
 bands on the wing coverts, white; wings and tail, dusky. 
 Female and young, ashy, variously marked or tinged with 
 greenish yellow or light golden brown on the crown and 
 rump, or even over the back and breast. As the male is no 
 doubt several years in reaching his bright colors of matu- 
 rity, nearly all the individuals visiting us in winter are 
 ashy. To the naturalist and artist the old males are a great 
 desideratum. Scarcely can the southern climes send us a 
 more brilliant migrant than this casual visitor from the 
 north. Immature specimens may arrive in New England 
 and the Middle States, already in the wake of Indian Sum- 
 mer, but only in severe winters are they common. Then 
 the flocks of 10-20 may contain quite a sprinkling of the 
 
22 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 
 
 brilliant old males, and occasionally this species may extend 
 its winter flight as far south as Maryland, Ohio, Illinois and 
 Kansas. 
 
 As I fire into the flock in the mountain ash, they scatter 
 into the surrounding trees, loth to fly away, and emit a 
 loud and prolonged peenk, sounding almost like the note of 
 a hawk. Its song is said to be a pleasing warble. It breeds 
 from northern Maine and the Maritime Provinces north- 
 ward, being common about Moose Factory on James' Bay, 
 and down the Rocky Mountains into Colorado. The nest, 
 placed in trees, is made of sticks and grasses, and contains 
 S-4 eggs, oval, about .97 X -^2, "pale bluish-green in color, 
 spotted, dotted, and lined with brown and umber." 
 
 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 
 
 I was never naturally fond of a gun. But for the emer- 
 gencies of natural history I should never have used much 
 powder and shot; but I cannot, like Thoreau, become a nat- 
 uralist without either gun or trap. He must have been on 
 remarkably good terms with the inhabitants of the woods 
 and the fields. 
 
 In the afternoon of this same day of the hoar-frost, I spied 
 a Downy Woodpecker pounding away at a beautiful moun- 
 tain ash in the front yard. Of course he would not hurt 
 the tree, but I was tempted to get the bird; so, notwithstand- 
 ing my poor marksmanship, I started with an old shot-gun 
 to procure the specimen. As usual, the bird was very 
 unsuspecting, and allowed me to come quite near. I fired, 
 but, to my surprise, the bird flew to the next tree, appar- 
 ently without the least surprise. I loaded and fired again, 
 but without securing my specimen, and, it would seem, 
 without even alarming him. Again I fired, and again and 
 again, and yet the bird seemed as safe and self-possessed 
 
THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 23 
 
 about the yard as before the first shot. I felt assured the 
 bird's time of departure was not yet come, and so concluded 
 to do without it. But as I afterward became more success- 
 ful with a gun, and consequently got Downy in my hand 
 for a careful examination (and to an ornithologist a bird in 
 the hand is worth a good many in the bush), I will give at 
 least a brief account of him. And first I may say that, con- 
 cerning all the Woodpeckers, an account of the habits of one 
 comes very near being an account of them all. 
 
 Concerning their nests Mr. John Burroughs has well said: 
 "The Woodpeckers all build in about the same manner, 
 excavating the trunk or branch of a decayed tree and deposit- 
 ing the eggs on the fine fragments of wood at the bottom of 
 the cavity. Though the nest is not especially an artistic 
 work requiring strength rather than skill yet the eggs and 
 the young of few other birds are so completely housed from 
 the elements or protected from their natural enemies, the 
 jays, crows, hawks and owls. A tree with a natural cavity 
 is never selected, but one which has been dead just long 
 enough to have become soft and brittle throughout.* The 
 bird goes in horizontally for a few inches, making a hole 
 perfectly round and smooth and adapted to his size, then 
 turns downward, gradually enlarging the hole, as he pro- 
 ceeds, to the depth of ten, fifteen, twenty inches, according 
 to the softness of the tree and the urgency of the mother- 
 bird to deposit her eggs. While excavating, male and female 
 work alternately. After one has been engaged fifteen or 
 twenty minutes, drilling and carrying out chips, it ascends 
 to an upper limb, utters a loud call or two, when its mate 
 soon appears, and, alighting near it on the branch, the pair 
 chatter and caress a moment, then the fresh one enters the 
 cavity, and the other flies away." 
 
 * Living trees of the softer kind are often eligible. 
 
24 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 
 
 In these same cavities they continue to take lodgings by 
 night, or take refuge in bad weather, thus making these, as 
 well as natural cavities in trees and stubs, places of conven- 
 ient shelter. 
 
 The strongly characterized eggs of the Woodpeckers, with 
 smooth, glossy, translucent shell, and of the purest white, 
 are very gems in oology. Are they white in order that the 
 bird may readily see them as it enters its dusky chamber? 
 What a Spartan-like bed are those few chips on which the 
 young are reared! Indeed, everything about the Wood- 
 pecker indicates hardihood and industry. He is a moral 
 object-lesson to the self-indulgent and indolent. 
 
 As Wilson has truly suggested having no vocal power to 
 charm the Woodpeckers occupy the honorable position of 
 carpenters among the birds.* For this purpose their struct- 
 ure is most admirably adapted. Held in position by means 
 of large, strong feet, having two toes turned forward and 
 two backward, and by a tail having every feather stiff and 
 pointed; with a strong, chisel-shaped bill, skull-bones of 
 unusual size and strength, and a neck which works like a 
 lever, they can do marvelous execution. The tongue 
 elastic, barbed, viscid, and the back part or hyoid bone 
 being coiled up like the mainspring of a watch, and in 
 every way adapted to the seizure of insects was well chosen 
 by Paley as a striking evidence of design in creation. And 
 the ornithologist, observing how the bird chooses the dead 
 trees and those dying from the destructive effect of insects 
 as the objects of its workmanship, will readily confirm, from 
 the study of habit, what the anatomist infers from structure. 
 
 Closing the wings and gliding through the air after sev- 
 eral vigorous strokes, the flight of the Woodpeckers is undu- 
 lating; and, just before lighting, they glide upwards a few 
 
 * Carpentero is the ordinary name of the Woodpecker among the Mexicans. 
 
THE' DOWNY WOODPECKER. 25 
 
 feet to check their direct momentum. Clinging to the bark 
 of the trunk or larger limbs of the trees with their sharp, 
 hooked claws, and using the peculiar feathers of the tail as 
 a support, they hop upward or sidewise, or drop backward, 
 but do not move with the head downward, after the manner 
 of the Nuthatches. They often take insects on the wing, 
 and relish the smaller fruits; but their principal fare consists 
 of insects and their eggs and larvae as found in the bark or 
 crevices, or as excavated and drawn out from decaying or 
 damaged trees. 
 
 Now, from the general to the particular. The Downy 
 Woodpecker (Picus pubescent], 6.75 and 12.00 in extent, is the 
 dwarf of his family, and, in color and marking, is almost pre- 
 cisely like his nearest relative, the Hairy Woodpecker. His 
 small size alone may distinguish him from all other Wood- 
 peckers in this locality. The top of the head, the cheeks, 
 the back of the neck, both sides of the back, the wings and 
 central feathers of the tail are jet black. A stripe running 
 back over each eye, and one extending back from under 
 each eye and up the sides of the neck, the middle of the 
 back, regular transverse rows of round spots in the wings, 
 and three feathers on each side of the tail are white, the 
 latter being spotted with black. The under parts are of a 
 grayish white, and the male is marked with carmine on the 
 sides of the hind head. Like those of all the rest of the 
 family, the eggs of this little species, some 85 X-62, are pure 
 white. As is common with Woodpeckers, both sexes take 
 part in incubation. The Downy Woodpecker is particu- 
 larly fond of orchards and such arboreal accommodations 
 as may be found in the vicinity of the abode of man. Its 
 note, chick, chick, is cheerful, and suggestive of contentment 
 and self-satisfaction, and, like the notes of the Woodpeckers 
 in general, expresses a vigorous energy. It is resident 
 
26 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 
 
 throughout Eastern North America, and northwestward to 
 Alaska, being represented west of the Rocky Mountains by 
 Gairdner's Woodpecker. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 SNOWED IN. 
 
 WHAT is more romantic, in this our northern clime than a 
 heavy snow-storm ? What wonder that one of our most 
 distinguished American poets could elaborate a charming- 
 poem under the title, "Snow-bound." What can be more 
 suggestive of ' purity, more symbolic of a clean sheet on 
 which to begin a new chapter in life, than the mantle of 
 snow which shrouds the landscape about the beginning of 
 our solar year ? 
 
 " No cloud above, no earth below 
 A universe of sky and snow." 
 
 Then the snow-flakes ! What wonders of beauty they are ! 
 Unity in variety is the law of their forms of delicate beauty. 
 Always star-like, with just six rays or main points, they 
 seem to include every variety of detail on this plan, from 
 the perfectly plain six-rayed star to the most elaborate 
 plumose flower conceivable^ Every mineral having its in- 
 variable angle of crystallization and snow and ice belong 
 to the mineral kingdom water, in consolidating, shoots 
 forth its angles at precisely 60 a fact which the merest 
 fragment of a snow-flake will reveal. It is only under cer- 
 tain circumstances that they can be seen to advantage. If 
 they pass through a stratum of air too mild to keep them 
 below the freezing point, they blend, and appear like pellets 
 of white lint; if there is much wind, they are broken into 
 
28 THE SNOW BUNTING. 
 
 fine particles. When they fall rightly, examine them on 
 your coat-sleeve under a magnifying glass, and you will 
 find them to be among the most perfect of nature's mar- 
 velous workmanship. 
 
 THE SNOW BUNTING. 
 
 A cold, gray, midwinter day had been followed by a quiet 
 snow-fall of many inches, which, perfectly undisturbed, lay 
 in a huge, evenly-distributed pile over the entire landscape. 
 
 THE SNOW BUNTING. 
 
 From the dried mullein-stalk, standing in the fence-corner, 
 to the heavy forest, the form of every object was changed, 
 was rendered fantastic and ghost-like, in this universal 
 shroud of pure white. Now the flakes were unusually 
 large and elaborate; for, be it remembered, nearly every 
 snow-storm affords a new pattern of the flake. On the 
 bright morning which followed, while the whole earth gave 
 back the grateful rays of the sun in countless tiny stars of 
 dazzling scintillation, I was just in the act of dipping up a 
 handful of the fleecy snow in absorbing admiration, when 
 lo ! an immense cloud, nearly as white as the sno-vy itself, 
 
THE SNOW BUNTING. 29 
 
 swept over my head, and dropped down into a field a few 
 rods beyond. But this cloud of Snow-flakes for so the 
 Snow Buntings are sometimes called was musical, filling 
 the air with a soft warbling chipper as they flew, .and keep- 
 ing up the same notes after they had alighted. How their 
 predominance of white harmonizes with the snow on which 
 they hop and skip and flutter ! while the patches and mot- 
 tlings of yellowish ocher and black, so varied in size and 
 form in different individuals, remind one of the autumnal 
 earth-colors just beneath the whitened landscape. They 
 seem to take delight in the snow and in the cold. Indeed, 
 this hardy, happy little bird is the true herald of snow, 
 seeming to keep ever on the line, or a little in advance, of 
 the snow-storm, and generally in large flocks. As the winter 
 is setting in, one may stand on the south of our great Lake 
 Ontario and see them coming across by the thousand, their 
 rear outline being skirted by the various smaller Hawks, 
 moving southward at the same time, and foraging as 
 they go. 
 
 Their sprightly movement when on the ground, the zest 
 with which they feed on the seeds of weeds and grasses, 
 cannot but give one the impression of good cheer and 
 plenty on the most inclement winter's day. Impressed with 
 the utility of even the weeds, in the nice adjustment of the 
 economy of nature, and with the confident air of these birds 
 seeking their daily food, one cannot but recall the words of 
 the Great Teacher: " Behold the fowls of the air; for they 
 sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet 
 your Heavenly Father feedeth them." 
 
 The birds are not idle, indeed. They accomplish a great 
 mission. A single year without their labors would be fol- 
 lowed by a degree of disaster inconceivable, perhaps by a 
 famine. We learn " that in the early times of the American 
 
30 THE LAPLAND LONG SPUR. 
 
 colonies the farmers of New England offered threepence a 
 head for the Crow Blackbirds, on account of their destruct- 
 iveness in the grain fields. Consequently they were nearly 
 extirpated for a time, and the insects increased to such a 
 degree as to cause a total loss of herbage, and the farmers 
 were compelled to obtain hay from Pennsylvania, and even 
 from Great Britain." But the birds can do nothing what- 
 ever to provide their own food. Yet when are they seen 
 starving or wanting sustenance? 
 
 The cloud of Snow-flakes, having taken sudden alarm, are 
 risen high in air. What graceful gyrations and evolutions ! 
 and how the pure white of their under parts fairly gleams 
 against the clear ether. Must not that soft, musical chatter 
 be an intelligible conversation among themselves ? Never 
 did minds communicate in happier tones. 
 
 The nest of this bird was once found in New Hampshire, 
 on a slope of the White Mountains, " on the ground among 
 low bushes, and formed like that of the Song Sparrow." It 
 contained young. Another is reported, even from Spring- 
 field, Massachusetts. The ordinary breeding place of the 
 Snow Bunting, however, is in the Arctic regions, where it is 
 said to spend the summer in great numbers. It now 
 becomes a bird of accomplished song, building a sub- 
 stantial nest on the ground and in the clefts of rock, lined 
 with feathers and the hair of the Arctic fox. The eggs, 
 .90 X-65, are whitish, mottled with brown, especially around 
 the larger end, where the blotches sometimes become a 
 dark wreath. The species is common to the higher latitudes 
 of the whole northern hemisphere. 
 
 THE LAPLAND LONGSPUR. 
 
 In Western New York, the sunshine of early winter is 
 very fickle. In a few hours the clearest sky may be robed 
 
THE LAPLAND .LONG SPUR. 31 
 
 in the dark-leaden clouds so peculiar to that season; and 
 when, perchance, the sun breaks through, they may be 
 fringed with a rich amber, quite uncommon at other seasons 
 of the year. On this morning after the snow-fall, the sun- 
 shine left almost as suddenly as the Snow Buntings, and 
 with the leaden clouds appeared another flock, equally 
 large, and so similar in size, form and movement that one 
 might readily think them the same were it not for the pre- 
 dominance of the dark colors. They are as dark as the 
 sparrows; the black and ocher, so common to the Snow 
 Buntings, making up the entire dress, except the white 
 underneath and on the sides of the neck; while the breast, 
 cheeks and sides under the wings are ornamented with 
 rich, black feathers, delicately tipped with white. Thus the 
 careful observer will readily distinguish them as the Lap- 
 land Longspurs (Plectrophanes lapponicus], and quite different 
 from the Snow Buntings (Plectrophanes nivalis), of the 
 white dress, dark-ocher patch on the head lighter patches 
 of the same on the ears, as also a tendency of the same, in 
 the form of a collar low on the breast, black mixed with 
 the same on the back, black in the center of the tail, upper 
 wing-feathers and wing-tips. 
 
 The Lapland Longspur spends the breeding season in 
 large numbers about Great Slave Lake, McKenzie's River, 
 and in Alaska, arriving in the latter place the second week 
 in May. At this time of year it is said to be an eminent 
 songster. Dr. Coues describes the nidification as follows: 
 "The eggs are rather pointed at the smaller end, and 
 measure about 0.80 x 0.62. They are very dark colored, 
 reminding one of the Titlark's; the color is a heavy cloud- 
 ing or thick mottling of chocolate-brown, through which 
 the greenish-gray ground is little apparent. The nests are 
 built of mosses and fine, soft, dried grasses, and lined with 
 
32 THE HAIRY WOODPECKER. 
 
 a few large feathers from some water- fowl; they were 
 placed on the ground, under tussocks, in grassy hummocks. 
 The female did not leave the nest until nearly trodden upon." 
 Like the former, this bird occupies the Arctic regions of 
 both continents, migrating southward in winter, even to 
 warm-temperate latitudes, though the Longspur is not com- 
 mon even then in this locality, and is not yet reported west 
 of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 THE HAIRY WOODPECKER. 
 
 "Pimp! pimp! pimp!" with a sharp, metallic ring. Who 
 does not know the voice of the Hairy Woodpecker? sim- 
 ilar, somewhat, and yet very unlike that of other members 
 of the family. Its vigorous and incisive tones are asso- 
 ciated with the sounds of my childhood. Well do I remem- 
 ber its nest, commonly chiseled out of the American aspen, 
 so soft and brittle, the nest being made in a large, living 
 tree, and many feet from the ground. What gems were the 
 ovate, smooth eggs, some .98 x .72, of translucent white; and 
 how hard it seemed for the tender, unfledged young to lie 
 on a mere bed of chips ! Certain it is, however, that what 
 may be lacking in luxury is made up in safety. What Blue 
 Jay, Crow, Hawk or Owl would think of putting its head 
 into that small, neat, round doorway ? Even a Raccoon 
 would fare no better than Reynard, when the fabled Stork 
 invited him to dinner; and what snake would think of 
 wriggling up that straight and limbless trunk, some thirty 
 feet or upwards ? The male, moreover, is a very hero in 
 defense of its nest, flying angrily from tree to tree in the 
 immediate vicinity when it is disturbed, and uttering an 
 almost deafening racket of rage. 
 
 The Hairy Woodpecker (Picus villosus] is 8.50-9.00 in 
 length, plumage soft and blended on the back, appearing 
 
THE SHORT-EARED OWL. 33 
 
 more like hair than feathers; head, back of the neck, sides 
 of the back, wings and central tail-feathers, black; stripe 
 above and below the eye, the lower extending up the side 
 of the neck, stripe down the middle of the back, side feathers 
 of the tail, under parts and round spots in rows across 
 the wings, white; the male having two bright red spots in 
 the white stripes on the back of the head. Habitat, all 
 eastern North America, reaching through Alaska, northwest; 
 replaced by a variety called Harris' Woodpecker, beyond 
 the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 THE SHORT-EARED OWL. 
 
 It is the dusk of twilight. How strong is the contrast 
 between the snow-clad earth and the leaden, almost inky, 
 sky! What bird is that flying low by the barn-yarn fence? 
 It has alighted. Quickly as possible I get my shot-gun and 
 creep around behind the barn. Meanwhile, a second has 
 alighted by the side of the first. Probably they are male 
 and female. I take aim, and over topples one of the birds, 
 while the other spreads its noiseless wings and flies away. 
 
 On picking up my specimen I find it to be the Short-eared 
 Owl (Brachyotus palustris). Palustris means pertaining to 
 the swamp or marsh, and is very properly applied to this 
 species, as we shall presently see. From fourteen to fifteen 
 inches long, light reddish brown, lighter beneath, upper 
 parts thickly streaked with blackish-brown, lower parts 
 more finely streaked with the same, face whitish, with black 
 circles around the eyes, tail buff, legs a lighter shade of the 
 same color, ear-tufts scarcely noticeable, this bird is very 
 readily identified, for it is quite unlike any other Owl of this 
 locality. 
 
 The Short-eared Owl breeds commonly in the salt-marshes 
 along the Atlantic and in marshy places in the interior, 
 3 
 
34 THE SHORT-EARED OWL. 
 
 making its nest on the ground, sometimes of very slight 
 construction, laying some four or five roundish dull-white 
 eggs, 1.50 x 1.30. Professor W. D. Scott, of Princeton, found 
 it around the inlet of Barnagat Bay, as a sort of counterpart 
 of the Marsh Hawk, scouring the marshes by night, while 
 the latter took its place in day-time, also breeding in the 
 same locality and on the ground. According to Dall, the 
 Short-eared Owl sometimes breeds in burrows. It seems to 
 be common to Europe, Asia, Greenland, America and the 
 West Indies. 
 
 Sometimes found in the woods, but generally adhering to 
 swamps and marshes, this species is wont^to rest on the 
 ground during the day, and if startled flies up in a hurried 
 and "zigzag" manner, "as if suddenly awakened from 
 sound sleep," and sailing along rather low, drops down out 
 of sight again. Mr. W. Brewster found these Owls preying 
 upon the Terns on Muskegat Island. " A small colony of 
 these birds had established itself upon a certain elevated 
 part of the island, spending the day in a tract of densely- 
 matted grass. Scattered about in this retreat were the 
 remains of at least a hundred Terns that they had killed 
 and eaten. Many of these were fresh, while others were in 
 every stage of decomposition, or dried by the sun and wind. 
 In each case the breast had been picked clean, but in no 
 instance was any other portion disturbed. Every day, at a 
 certain time, these Owls sallied forth in search of fresh prey. 
 We used regularly to see them about sunset, sailing in cir- 
 cles over the island or beating along the crests of the sand- 
 hills. They were invariably followed by vast mobs of 
 enraged Terns, which dived angrily down over the spot 
 where the Owl had alighted, or strung out in the wake of 
 its flight like the tail of a comet. The Owl commonly paid 
 little attention to this unbidden following, and apparently 
 
THE LONG-EARED OWL. 35 
 
 never tried to seize its persecutors while on the wing, but 
 on several occasions we saw a sitting bird pounced upon 
 and borne off. Sometimes in the middle of the night a great 
 outcry among the Terns told when a tragedy was being 
 enacted." 
 
 Like the rest of the Owls, the Short-ear is for the most 
 part a bird of the night; and it feeds especially on mice and 
 moles. 
 
 THE LONG-EARED OWL 
 
 (Otus vulgaris var. wilsonianus) is a common resident in the 
 swamps and dense evergreen woods, but is nowhere abund- 
 ant in Western New York. About the size of the former, it 
 is readily distinguishable by its long ear-like tufts of 8-12 
 feathers, situated on the top of the head like the ears of a 
 cat, and by its darker color; dark brown, mixed with fulvous 
 and finely specked with white, above; white, lined and 
 crossed with light-brown, below; facial disks and feet, fulv- 
 ous; narrow ring around the eye, black. This variety of the 
 European species (vulgaris] is of rather southern habitat, 
 stretching across the continent, and, perhaps, barely extend- 
 ing into New England. It breeds abundantly in Eastern 
 Pennsylvania, its nest, placed in trees or possibly on the 
 ground, being "usually constructed of rude sticks, sometimes 
 of boughs with the leaves adherent thereto, externally, and 
 generally, but not always, lined with the feathers of birds." 
 The same nest is used for a succession of years, and it is the 
 testimony of both Wilson and Audubon, as also of Buffon, 
 in respect to the European variety, that the deserted nests 
 of other birds are appropriated and repaired. The eggs, 
 commonly four, about 1.50 X 1.35, are roundish and white, 
 after the manner of Owls. In common with its class, 
 the food of this species is small birds and reptiles and 
 insects. 
 
36 THE SCREECH OWL. 
 
 THE SCREECH OWL. 
 
 After a few days the weather grew intensely cold, the 
 thermometer running ten degrees below zero. Making a 
 professional visit on one of these bitter days, as I drove 
 
 THE SCREECH OWL. 
 
 into the barn-yard to unharness my horse, I noticed the 
 result of quite a little tragedy in the animal kingdom. 
 Some fifteen feet up the side of the barn hung a Screech 
 Owl (Scops asw), caught by one foot under a large batten 
 partly sprung off from the building. It was frozen stiff, its 
 eyes standing out white and ghastly with the expansion of 
 the frost; and just above it, seemingly caught under the 
 same batten, and frozen in like manner, was a common 
 
THE SCREECH OWL. 37 
 
 mouse; thus both had been turned into ice in the very act 
 of the chase. 
 
 This bird is abundant here throughout the year, but is 
 more noticeable in winter, as it then approaches the barn 
 and the out-buildings, probably in search of food and shelter. 
 In late summer and early autumn it may be heard about 
 the orchard or the edge of the wood; in the evening, uttering a 
 soft whinny, not at all to be compared, however, to "screech- 
 ing." Thoreau, describing the sounds within hearing of his hut 
 at Walden Lake, gives special prominence to the vocal per- 
 formance of this bird. He says: " It is no honest and blunt tu- 
 whit, tu-whovi the poets, but, without jesting, a most solemn, 
 graveyard ditty, the mutual consolations of suicide lovers 
 remembering the pangs and the delights of supernal love in 
 the infernal groves. Yet I love to hear their wailing, their 
 doleful responses, trilled along the road-side, reminding me 
 sometimes of music and singing birds; as if it were the 
 dark and tearful side of music, the regrets and sighs that 
 would feign be sung. ' They are the spirits, the low spirits 
 and melancholy forebodings of fallen souls that once in 
 human shape night-walked the earth and did the deeds of 
 darkness, now expiating their sins with their wailing hymns 
 or threnodies in the scenery of their transgressions. They 
 give me a new sense of the variety and capacity of that 
 nature which is our common dwelling. Oh-o-o-o-o that I 
 never had been bor-r-r-r-r-n ! sighs one on this side of the 
 pond, and circles with the restlessness of despair to some 
 new perch on the gray oaks. Then that I never had been 
 bor-r-r-r-n ! echoes another on the further side with tremu- 
 lous sincerity, and bor-r-r-r-n! comes faintly from far in 
 Lincoln woods." 
 
 About nine inches long, with large ear-tufts, ash-gray 
 above, with a lighter shade of the same beneath, all 
 
38 THE SCREECH OWL. 
 
 over mottled and streaked with black, the black streaks 
 beneath again crossed with black and accompanied with 
 reddish tints, white markings on the shoulders sometimes 
 the general ash-gray above mentioned being entirely re- 
 placed by reddish; this bird can never be mistaken. H. D. 
 Minot says: "The eggs are laid in the hollow of a tree, an 
 apple-tree being frequently selected, in which are often 
 placed a few simple materials, such as leaves or dried grass. 
 The eggs, of which four are laid about the middle of April, 
 average 1.35 x 1-20 of an inch, though occasionally speci- 
 mens measure 1.50 x 1-30 of an inch. They are white, and 
 nearly spherical." The almost round, white eggs, generally 
 pure white and about equal at both ends, and with a fine 
 surface, are characteristic of the Owls. 
 
 Mr. W. Perham (at Tyngsboro, Mass.) often secures the 
 nest of this species by fastening on trees in the woods 
 "sections of hollow trunks, boarded up at the open ends, 
 with entrance-holes cut in the sides," the bird appropriating, 
 these instead of natural cavities or deserted Woodpeckers' 
 nests, "both as roosting and nesting places." 
 
 As with the Owls in general, this species, when in the 
 down, is pure white. Being very small, excepting the bill 
 and feet, it might be mistaken for a little white Bantam 
 Chicken. A pretty sight, indeed, is this snow-white brood 
 of little creatures, in a hole of some old apple-tree, in the 
 thick, shadowy part of the orchard, or in some partially 
 decayed tree in the edge of a dense woods. 
 
 On one of the last days of May (1880), I was surprised, 
 while passing through the woods, by something which 
 seemed to me at first sight a large bunch of gray wool on 
 a limb some fifteen feet from the ground, but which, on 
 closer examination, proved to be four young Screech Owls, 
 nearly full-grown, well fledged, and sitting so closely to- 
 
THE ACADIAN OWL. 39 
 
 gether, and so perfectly still, as to require quite an effort 
 to define them to the eye. They were a weird sight. 
 The plumage was soft and downy, the color cold gray, thus 
 refuting the theory that the red garb, in which this bird is 
 often found, is the immature dress. The same species seems 
 to be sometimes red, and sometimes gray, independent of 
 age or sex. 
 
 In the latter part of June, the same year, on entering the 
 woods at late twilight, a bird flew at my head, uttering a 
 hoarse, guttural scream, followed by a sharp snapping of 
 the bill. It proved to be a Screech Owl, probably a parent 
 bird, with young near by. 
 
 Including a number of varieties, this Owl inhabits North 
 America at large. 
 
 THE ACADIAN OWL. 
 
 The Acadian Owl (Nyctale acaclicd) or Saw- whet, as it is 
 sometimes called, from its peculiar, rasping note, sounding 
 like the filing of a saw, is not infrequently found here; but 
 is, apparently, hot nearly so common as Scops asio. It 
 must breed here, as it is resident, and I have seen the young 
 taken in Orleans County. The male of this pigmy of its 
 race averages some 7.25, length; some 19.50 in extent. The 
 female is about an inch longer, and every way larger in pro- 
 portion. With head proportionately large, round, untufted, 
 and facial disks complete, the adult is fine, clear brown 
 above, scapulars and wing coverts marked with white, and 
 an under-surface ring of the same around the back of the 
 head; outside and inside web of primaries, and inside web 
 of the secondaries, white-spotted; tail tipped with white, 
 and having several cross-lines of spots of same; space 
 around the bill generally, and above and below the eye, 
 white or yellowish-white; top of the head, auriculars and 
 sides of neck streaked with white; and clear white arcs 
 
40 
 
 THE WAX- WING. 
 
 back of the ears; under parts white, broadly streaked with 
 reddish-brown. Young, more generally dark brown, un- 
 spotted, with clear white forehead and eye-brows, and clear, 
 light reddish-brown under parts. Slyly nesting in the hole 
 of a tree, the nearly round, pure white eggs of this species 
 are 1.22 X .96. They are laid in April, and the newly- 
 hatched young are covered with a reddish down. This 
 pigmy must have a good appetite, for, not long since, an 
 individual was taken in N. J., the stomach of which " con- 
 tained a whole Flying-squirrel." Habitat, North America; 
 most common, perhaps, in the latitudes of New England 
 and Nova Scotia. 
 
 THE WAX-WING. 
 
 What a beautiful figure in the winter landscape is that 
 mountain ash in the front yard! only it is no ash at all, 
 
 V. / 
 
 THE WAX-WING. 
 
 but a member of the Rose family. Symmetrical and grace- 
 ful, its dark-brown colored spray, beautifully relieved by the 
 
THE PINE LINNET. 41 
 
 great scarlet clusters of persistent fruit, it is a constant source 
 of pleasure to the eye. But oh! see it now! fairly bending 
 under the weight of an immense flock of Wax-wings (Ampelis 
 garrulus). The whole tree-top seems alive with their flutter- 
 ing motion, as they keep up a soft but spirited chipper, half- 
 way between a whisper and a whistle, and gobble up the 
 berries with the gusto of extreme hunger. How beautiful 
 they are! The form is fine, and it has an elegant crest; gen- 
 eral color, a brownish drab, approaching ash-gray over the 
 back, and chestnut around the base of the lofty crest, and 
 around the margin of the deep black passing horizontally 
 across the forehead across and above the eyes and forming 
 a large patch on the throat; under tail coverts chestnut; 
 wings and tail blackish, the latter shading most beautifully 
 into dark ash toward the base; streak at the base of the 
 lower mandible and one under the eye; tips of primary wing 
 coverts and outer terminal web of the secondaries, white; 
 the latter with waxen appendages on the quills; the prima- 
 ries and the tail tipped with bright yellow, the former some- 
 times edged across the end with white. It is 7 8 inches 
 long. The size and form of this species, its elegant shading 
 of rich colors, and its bright and sharply-contrasted mark- 
 ings fairly entitle it to its European epithet, "The Lovely 
 Wax - wing! " This is an Arctic bird, both of the Old World 
 and the New, and appears here irregularly in flocks in win- 
 ter, sometimes moving southward to 35. Its nest and eggs, 
 a few of which have been found in the northern part of this 
 continent, are very similar to those of its near relative, the 
 Cedar Bird, only a little larger. 
 
 THE PINE LINNET. 
 
 One of these cold days, as I was riding by a pasture well 
 stocked with the remains of the thistle and golden-rod of 
 
42 THE PINE LINNET. 
 
 the previous summer, I shot a solitary bird on a thistle, 
 which, in movement and appearance, reminded me of the 
 Goldfinch. It proved, however, to be its near relative, the 
 Pine Linnet (Chrysomitris pinus), the first of the kind I had 
 ever identified. Like many birds, appearing plain in the 
 distance, on .a close examination it is found to be a thing of 
 delicate beauty. The size and form of the Goldfinch, it differs 
 much from it in color. About 4.75 inches long, above it is 
 narrowly streaked with black or dusky and yellowish flaxen, 
 beneath with dusky and yellowish white; the rump yellow- 
 ish; the bases of the black or dusky wing and tail feathers, 
 bright, sulphury yeltow, the same feathers being narrowly 
 edged externally with yellowish; the yellow at the bases of 
 wing and tail feathers being especially noticeable in flight. 
 
 This bird ranges generally in flocks, and more or less 
 irregularly throughout the United States in winter, and, as 
 far as yet known, breeds from the latitude of Maine north- 
 ward. It is sometimes in Western New York already in 
 flocks by the 4th of July. 
 
 Dr. C. Hart Merriam, of Locust Grove, Lewis County, 
 New York, writes concerning this species: "Few birds are 
 more erratic in their habits than the Siskin or Pine Linnet. 
 Occurring to-day, perhaps, in such numbers that one soon 
 tires of shooting them, they are gone on the morrow, and 
 years may elapse before one is seen again." Concerning 
 1878, he continues: "During the past winter and spring 
 they literally swarmed in Lewis County, New York, and 
 thousands of them bred throughout the heavy evergreen 
 forests east of Black River, while many scattered pairs 
 nested in suitable hemlock and balsam swamps in the mid- 
 dle districts." Again he says of this region, and of Big 
 Otter Lake in Herkimer County: "Never before at any 
 locality have I seen a species of bird represented by such 
 
THE TREE SPARROW. 43 
 
 immense numbers of individuals as here attested the abund- 
 ance of the Pine Finch. In every part of the forest, from 
 early morning till after the sun had disappeared in the west, 
 there was not a moment that their voices were not heard 
 among the pines and spruce trees overhead." Already in 
 April the young were found nearly fledged, and eggs were 
 taken as early as the 18th of March. Dr. M. reports the 
 nest as "a very bulky structure for so small a bird, and its 
 rough exterior, loosely built of hemlock twigs, with a few 
 sprigs of pigeon moss (j>olytrichuni) interspersed, is irregu- 
 lar in outline, and measures about six inches in diameter. 
 The interior, on the contrary, is compactly woven into a 
 sort of felt, the chief ingredients of which are thistle-down 
 and the fur and hair of various mammals." 
 
 In spring it is said to sing very much like the Goldfinch, 
 but in lower tones and more softly. Its conversational 
 chipper is also very similar to that of its near relative. Its 
 nest, said by Dr. Brewer to be "neat," made of "pine twigs" 
 and "lined with hair;" contains pale-greenish eggs speckled 
 with rusty, about .70 X .50. 
 
 In flight, manner of alighting, and movements in obtain- 
 ing food, this species very closely resembles the Goldfinch. 
 In addition to the seeds of the thistle and those of the weeds 
 in general, it appropriates as food the seeds obtained from 
 the cones of the Pine family, climbing actively in the tops 
 of the evergreens. 
 
 THE TREE SPARROW. 
 
 The same day I crept on a large flock of birds in a corn 
 field. They proved to be Tree Sparrows (Spizella monticold), 
 readily distinguished from others of the same family by 
 their dark chestnut crown, and dark spot on a plain, ash- 
 colored breast; the white cross-bars on the wing coverts 
 also are generally quite conspicuous. 
 
44 THE GOLDFINCH. 
 
 Reaching us in October, this is one of our most abundant 
 winter birds, generally in large flocks, extending nearly to 
 the Gulf States, and returning northward in April and 
 early in May. It " breeds north of the United States, to 
 high latitudes, but also, like the Snow-bird, in mountains 
 within our limits." (Coues.) Its eggs are said to be much 
 like those of the Song Sparrow, and its nest indifferently on 
 the ground, in a bush, or in a tree. 
 
 So gentle and unsuspecting is this bird, that it will even 
 pick up the crumbs around the door in winter, though it 
 generally affects the field, the pasture, the thicket, or the 
 orchard; and it seems to sing almost throughout the year. 
 In the latter part of March, or during the month of April, 
 when the Song Sparrow is giving us his earliest and most 
 ringing notes, from the thickets and from the ground you 
 may hear the soft, sweet notes of this species, as a sort of 
 undertoned accompaniment Whee-he-ho-he-whee-he-he-he-he; 
 the first four notes drawn out, and the rest uttered some- 
 what rapidly. In mild days of November whole flocks 
 may be heard warbling almost as sweetly as in spring, and 
 in the midst of the cold of winter, their notes are often 
 much more like a warble than a mere twitter, a whole flock 
 becoming thoroughly musical. In the soft sweetness of its 
 song, its general habit and migration, it is very much like 
 the Dark Snow-bird, and, like it, is not common west of the 
 Rocky Mountains. 
 
 THE GOLDFINCH. 
 
 We have had several sunny days, and our heavy fall of 
 snow has settled to a stratum of six or eight inches. I am 
 leisurely strolling through a thicket, on a bright afternoon, 
 on the sunny side of a large woods. I find Chickadees, in 
 familiar little parties, happy as the sunshine. A small flock 
 of Tree Sparrows has also flown overhead, and lighted in 
 
' THE GOLDFINCH. 45 
 
 a pasture near by. But the most numerous and spirited 
 company I meet is a party of Goldfinches (Chrysomitris 
 tristis}. After caroling and whirling, high in air, they have 
 alighted within a short gun-shot. Excepting the Wrens, this 
 is decidedly the most animated bird of my acquaintance. 
 Every particle of his being seems inspirited with life. A 
 rare thing, indeed, it is to catch him in a state of rest. 
 When taking food, he seems to go through all the motions 
 possible, now reaching upward, now downward, now side- 
 wise, and now hanging by the feet. In flight he takes long, 
 bounding curves, showing an elasticity of stroke altogether 
 uncommon; and to make that flight still more animated, 
 frequently utters his strongly emphasized ditty "I've 
 cheated ye, I've cheated ye" On lighting in a tree, he is in a 
 perfect state of excitement, beckoning, chattering and call- 
 ing, as if seeking to attract universal attention, giving one 
 the impression that there is a host of other birds within 
 hailing distance. Indeed, he never seems alone. When he 
 sings, he seems so brimful of his song, and in such haste to 
 deliver it, that he cannot articulate distinctly, but runs one 
 note into another, and breaks others off so abruptly that, 
 notwithstanding its pleasing vivacity, it often appears quite 
 incomplete. Not infrequently a considerable flock will all 
 sing at once, thus making a noisy chorus. In the case of 
 birds, as in the case of men, we should not confound song 
 with conversation. In respect to the latter, the Goldfinch 
 has a great variety of notes, which it is about impossible 
 to describe in full. Tid-tid-di-die, tse-hee-tsee, tee-hee, in addi- 
 tion to his familiar ditty when in flight, are sounds quite 
 common to him. Whether we contemplate him in voice or 
 in action, the sentiment ever expressed by him is that of 
 joy, so that he is properly spoken of as the happy Gold- 
 finch. This is particularly a seed-eater, and, like the rest of 
 
46 THE GOLDFINCH. 
 
 his family, the FringiUidt^ which includes the Sparrows and 
 their relatives, he has a short, thick bill, with which to shell 
 the seeds. In common with the rest of our winter birds, he 
 does no small service in keeping down the weeds. In plac- 
 ing the Goldfinch on the thistle, Audubon rendered his 
 portrait true to nature. He is found there more frequently 
 than on any other plant. How often we see him leading out 
 his young family to dine on the seeds of this very common 
 and troublesome weed ! Hence he is sometimes called the 
 Thistle-bird. This natural inclination to aid the farmer in 
 his struggle with noxious plants should especially commend 
 our sprightly little friend, as well as his whole family con- 
 nection, to the kindly consideration of the farmer. Besides, 
 do not the trim form, bright colors, graceful and spirited 
 movements, and cheerful, happy voice of this species, con- 
 tribute constantly to the innocent pleasures of the out-door 
 laborer? Is he not the true messenger of a boundless joy 
 for man as well as for the birds ? 
 
 The winter dress of our bird has nothing attractive. 
 Audubon has described it well and in few words: "Brown- 
 ish-olive above, without black on the head; foreneck and 
 breast grayish-yellow, the rest of the lower parts grayish- 
 white." But this is not the color of the female in summer. 
 Lacking the bright lemon-yellow, black crown, black wings 
 and tail marked with white, which constitute the vernal 
 habit of the male in her plain suit of green, with dusky 
 wings and tail, and shading into yellow underneath she is 
 truly beautiful, as she flits by the side of her gay consort. 
 Have you ever seen the two take each other by the bill and 
 delicately caress each other under the brow of some hill on 
 a beautiful spring day ? 
 
 In its time of nesting this bird is quite unaccountable. 
 Though the male has put on his gay attire, long before the 
 
THE GOLDFINCH. 47 
 
 spring is robed in splendor, and has chosen his mate quite 
 as soon as other birds, not until July is there the slightest 
 indication of domestic cares. Then you no longer see them 
 in large, noisy parties, but each couple has found a quiet 
 nook, and become as steady as any other pair of birds. 
 Quite commonly the site chosen is in the orchard, some- 
 times in the top of a tall shade-tree which stretches its 
 boughs over the house-roof, often in the thicket which bor- 
 ders the forest, and not infrequently in a cosy clump of 
 elders. In the latter kind of place, late in July, was found 
 a very gem of a nest, now before me. True to the favorite 
 plant, it is mostly composed of thistle-down, interlaced and 
 wound into position by fine shreds of the bark of the grape- 
 vine and bass-woods, all of which materials give it a some- 
 what bulky, but neat, gray appearance, beautifully in har- 
 mony with the branch on which it is saddled. This nest is 
 finished alike within and without, and even on the under 
 side. It is not merely built on the limb, but neatly finished 
 around it. Evidently it was not constructed in a hurry. 
 The bottom, sides, and rim are thick, and firm, and finely 
 felted together. The inside is an elegant bed of white, 
 silky down. In every respect it is perfect. But oh, the 
 eggs! What gems they are! Some half-dozen, the size of 
 a Wren's egg, .65 X .51, clear white, tinged with green, they 
 render the nest perfect in beauty. Many a time has the sight 
 of it thrilled me with pleasure, and never more than to-night, 
 as I review all its beauties for an accurate description, and 
 recall the many kindnesses of the dear friend who compli- 
 mented my tastes in saving it for me. 
 
 Like some others of the smaller birds, the Goldfinch sits 
 only about a week. 
 
 It ranges through North America generally, breeding as 
 far south as Kentucky. 
 
48 THE RUFFED GROUSE. 
 
 THE RUFFED GROUSE. 
 
 One of my townsmen has just brought a pair of beautiful 
 Ruffed Grouse (.Bonasa umbelld), male and female, and 
 wishes them mounted. He has described the attitudes he 
 prefers; the male, "as if he was just goin' to fly," and the 
 female, "as if she was harkin'." I will try to comply with 
 the request. These birds remind me of an incident of a few 
 years ago. One of my most esteemed parishioners, on going 
 out into his door-yard at break of day, early in November, 
 found a beautiful male of the Ruffed Grouse promenading 
 about like a domestic fowl. On attempting to fly over the 
 barn it struck the ridge of the roof and fell dead on the 
 other side. He brought it to me, and, on dissection, its 
 breast proved to be completely bruised. In more super- 
 stitious times this might have been regarded as an evil 
 omen, for a few months afterwards this same man was 
 instantaneously killed. 
 
 These birds before me are specially characteristic of 
 Eastern North America, and have a history, which cannot 
 fail to interest the lover of nature. The man who procured 
 them might well be impressed with their movements and 
 attitudes, for they are every way marked and pleasing. 
 
 "On the ground," says Audubon, "where the Ruffed 
 Grouse spends a large portion of its time, its motions are 
 peculiarly graceful. It walks with an elevated, firm step, 
 opening its beautiful tail gently and with a well-marked 
 jet, holding erect its head, the feathers of which are fre- 
 quently raised, as are the velvety tufts of its neck. It poises 
 its body on one foot for several seconds at a time, and utters 
 a soft cluck, which in itself implies a degree of confidence in 
 the bird that its tout ensemble is deserving of the notice of 
 any bystander. Should the bird discover that it is observed, 
 its step immediately changes to a rapid run, its head is 
 
THE RUFFED GROUSE. 49 
 
 lowered, its tail is more widely spread, and, if no convenient 
 hiding place is at hand, it immediately takes flight with as 
 much of the whirring sound as it can produce, as if to prove 
 to the observer that, when on the wing, it cares as little 
 about him as the deer pretends to do when, on being started 
 by the hound, he makes several lofty bounds, and erects his 
 tail to the breeze." 
 
 Who that lives in his vicinity has not heard the " drum- 
 ming" of the male in the breeding season? Although it is 
 quite possible'that he may not have seen the bird in the act, 
 for that is the privilege of but few. Mr. John Burroughs 
 says: "The male bird selects, not as you would predict, a 
 dry and resinous log, but a decayed and crumbling one, 
 seeming to give the preference to old oak logs that are par- 
 tially blended with the soil. If a log to his taste cannot be 
 found, he sets up his altar on a rock, which becomes resonant 
 beneath his fervent blows. Who has seen the Partridge 
 drum ? It is the next thing to catching a weasel asleep, 
 though by much caution and tact it may be done. He does 
 not hug the log, but stands very erect, expands his ruff, 
 gives two introductory blows, pauses half a second, and then 
 resumes, striking faster and faster, till the sound becomes a 
 continuous unbroken whir, the whole lasting less than half 
 a minute. The tips of his wings barely brush the log, so 
 that the sound is produced rather by the force of the blows 
 upon the air and upon his own body as in flying. One log 
 will be used for many years, though not by the same drum- 
 mer. It seems to be a sort of temple, and held in great 
 respect. The bird always approaches on foot, and leaves it 
 in the same quiet manner, unless rudely disturbed. He is 
 very cunning, though his wit is not profound. It is difficult 
 to approach him by stealth; you try many times before suc- 
 ceeding; but seem to pass by him in a great hurry, making 
 4 
 
50 THE RUFFED GROUSE. 
 
 all the noise possible, and with plumage furled he stands as 
 immovable as a knot, allowing you a good view and a good 
 shot, if you are a sportsman." Audubon says: " The female, 
 which never drums, flies directly to the place where the male 
 is thus engaged, and, on approaching him, opens her wings 
 before him, balances her body to the right and left, and then 
 receives his caresses." 
 
 Whether the drumming is produced by striking the wings 
 against the body, by striking the wings together behind the 
 back, or by simply beating the air, has been a'much debated 
 question. Probably the latter is the true explanation. Nor 
 is it merely the call of the male to the female in the breed- 
 ing season, since it is indulged in at other times of the year, 
 but is also, as Nuttall has said, "an instinctive expression 
 of hilarity and vigor." 
 
 Behold the male strutting before the female in time of 
 courtship! The first time I saw him in this act I was utterly 
 at a loss to identify him. The ruff about the neck is per- 
 fectly erect, so that the head is almost disguised; the wings 
 are partially opened, and droop gracefully; the feathers gen- 
 erally are elevated; the tail, with its rich, black band, is 
 spread to the utmost and thrown forward. Thus he stands 
 nearly motionless, a genuine object of beauty 
 
 The flight of the Partridge is straight forward, vigorous 
 and heavy for about half the distance, after which it simply 
 sails, and that most gracefully, almost ethereally, to the 
 place of lighting. Thus the last part of its flight is strik- 
 ingly in contrast with the first. The whirring strokes of 
 the Partridge when put up is not, in all probability, its 
 ordinary mode of flight, but only the result of its surprise. 
 The best of observers affirm that, when rising of its own 
 accord, its flight is as noiseless as that of other birds. Its 
 habit of shooting for some distance through the loose snow, 
 
THE RUFFED GROUSE. 51 
 
 in the course of its flight, and of sitting still and allowing 
 itself to be snowed over, and then starting out, as by a sud- 
 den explosion, on some surprise, have been attested by 
 several writers of the best authority. 
 
 Audubon used to attract the Ruffed Grouse "by beating 
 a large inflated bullock's bladder with a stick, keeping up 
 as much as possible the same time as that in which the bird 
 beats." "At the sound produced by the bladder and the 
 stick," he says, "the male Grouse, inflamed with jealousy, 
 has flown directly towards me, when, being prepared, I have 
 easily shot it." There are many birds which may be decoyed 
 by a faithful imitation of their notes. 
 
 The nest of this beautiful bird is associated with my recol- 
 lections of childhood. I can see it still, a slight bed of 
 leaves, on the ground, under a fallen tree, in the w r ild 
 meadow. How the gentle wild hen would sit, till we chil- 
 dren came near enough to touch her, sometimes making our 
 calls without causing the least disturbance. The eggs, 
 about a dozen in number, and near the size of those of a 
 pullet, some 1.55 x 1.15, are brownish-white, often neatly 
 spotted and specked with brown. Well do I remember, too, 
 the stories in vogue among my playmates, as to the cunning 
 tricks of the younglings how they would scamper and hide 
 on being found, turning over on their backs and pulling 
 dried leaves over them for concealment; all of which I 
 believed then, but long since have come to doubt. It is not 
 the perfection of the concealment which I have come to 
 doubt, for that is beyond question, but the manner of that 
 concealment. The truth is their color is so much like that 
 of the dry leaves, and they are either so motionless or so 
 completely tucked away, that the eye cannot detect them. 
 The tender, downy little creatures! who could harm them 
 if he did find them! I once came upon a large brood just 
 
52 THE RUFFED GROUSE. 
 
 hatched, and succeeded in catching some half-dozen; but 
 how could I withstand the distress of the mother-bird as 
 she tossed and tumbled over and over, moaning and cluck- 
 ing, sometimes near enough to be touched by the hand I 
 Like Audubon, when he emptied the young Mallards from 
 his game-bag, I was completely overcome by the demon- 
 stration of maternal anguish. 
 
 But the most affecting of all was to hear the tender cluck- 
 ing call of the mother, and the soft peeping reply of the 
 flock of little ones, as soon as I was out of sight. To this 
 moment I am hoping that she succeeded in getting all her 
 young family safely together, after so rude a dispersion. 
 
 Berries of all kinds, as well as seeds, are the food of this 
 species; and when these are scarce, even leaves and buds 
 will do, and especially the catkins of the alder. 
 
 The Partridge, in its several varieties, pretty nearly covers 
 North America, our variety occupying Canada and the 
 Eastern United States into the mountains of the Carolinas. 
 About the size of a common fowl, with a graceful crest and 
 fan-shaped tail, the general color is a beautiful brown, vari- 
 ously mottled and clouded with light and dark; and it is 
 readily distinguished by its bunch of glossy black plumes on 
 each shoulder, and its broad band of black across the end of 
 the tail. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 OPEN WINTER. 
 
 THE frost and snow of early winter have softened, ere the 
 middle of the season, into such mild days, fields so green 
 and skies so tender, that one almost imagines himself in 
 some southern clime. Rain falls as easily as in April, and 
 the air is laden with a genial vapor, which almost threatens 
 to bring out the buds. 
 
 What happy moments were those this morning, as I sat in 
 my study, by the large window facing the east, and watched 
 the coming of the morning! It was announced by a delicate, 
 rosy tint, stretching like a band along the horizon a 
 fringe, where the deep blue touched the darkened landscape. 
 Anon, the lambent flame pervades the whole chamber of the 
 east, transfiguring space itself, and strikingly in contrast 
 with the clouds in the foreground still sable under the 
 shadows of retreating night. Now these dark clouds them- 
 selves have caught the glow, and are soon turned into 
 amber and gold. The rosy flames rise higher and higher, 
 till they touch the zenith; and now a broad band of rich, 
 transparent green unrolls along the horizon, and the whole 
 heaven is aglow with the glory of the coming day. 
 
 THE QUAIL. , 
 
 I must out, and away to the woods! Passing through a 
 large peach-orchard, just before entering a beautiful, park- 
 
54 THE QUAIL. 
 
 like forest, I put up a small flock of Quails. They are now 
 a rarity in Orleans County, New York, so much so that laws 
 have been passed in this and adjoining counties giving them 
 special protection throughout the year. But who could 
 wantonly injure a Quail? This is surely the most winning 
 game-bird in our land. Who can blame certain tender- 
 hearted little children, who will not accept any apology 
 whatever, for taking the life of one of them ? The flight of 
 the Quail on being startled is quite like that of the Partridge, 
 except that it does not generally fly so far. The surprise to 
 the observer, however, is greater, since the Quail is often in 
 quite considerable flocks, whereas the Partridge is much 
 less gregarious. Take your first chance for a shot at a flock 
 of Quails, for, after the first putting up, they are scattered 
 and very shy. Having flown in every direction, they en- 
 sconce themselves away so perfectly that they are not to be 
 seen, till one by one they fly up, almost from under foot; or, 
 if the whole flock start, it will be from many different points 
 in the vicinity, and so they will afford no shot, except singly. 
 
 The following citation from Audubon is so well worded, 
 and so in accord with the facts, that I shall adopt it ver- 
 batim: 
 
 "When an enemy is perceived they immediately utter a 
 lisping note, frequently repeated, and run off, with their tail 
 spread, their crest erected, and their wings drooping, towards 
 the shelter of some thicket or the top of a fallen tree. At 
 other times, when one of the flock has accidentally strayed 
 to a distance from its companions, it utters two notes louder 
 than any of those mentioned above, the first shorter and 
 lower than the second, when an answer is immediately 
 returned by one of the pack. This species has, moreover, 
 a love-call, which is louder and clearer than its other notes, 
 and can be heard at a distance of several hundred yards. It 
 
THE QUAIL. 55 
 
 consists of three distinct notes, the two last being loudest, 
 and is peculiar to the bird. A fancied similarity to the 
 words Bob White renders this call familiar to the Sportsman 
 and farmer; but these notes are always preceded by another, 
 easily heard at a distance of thirty or forty yards. The three 
 together resemble the words ah Bob White. The first note 
 is a kind of aspiration, and the last is very loud and clear. 
 This w r histle is seldom heard after the breeding season,* 
 during which an imitation of the peculiar note of the female 
 will make the male fly towards the sportsman, who may 
 then easily shoot it. 
 
 " In the Middle Districts the love-call of the male is heard 
 about the middle of April, and in Louisiana much earlier. 
 The male is seen perched on a fence-stake, or on the low 
 branch of a tree, standing nearly in the same position for 
 hours together, and calling ah Bob White at every interval 
 of a few minutes. Should he hear the note of a female, he 
 sails directly towards the spot whence it proceeded. Several 
 males may be heard from different parts of a field challeng- 
 ing each other, and should they meet on the ground, they 
 fight with great courage and obstinacy, until the conqueror 
 drives off his antagonist to another field. 
 
 " The female prepares a nest composed of grasses, arranged 
 in a circular form, leaving an entrance not unlike that of a 
 common oven. It is placed at the foot of a tuft of rank 
 grass or some close stalks of corn, and is partly sunk in the 
 ground. The eggs, 10-15, rather sharp at the smaller end, 
 are white. The male at times assists in hatching them. 
 This species raises only one brood in the year, unless the eggs 
 or the young when yet small have been destroyed. When 
 trfis happens the female immediately prepares another nest; 
 and should it also be ravaged, sometimes even a third. The 
 
 * I have heard this same ditty occasionally in the pleasant days of autumn. 
 
56 THE QUAIL. 
 
 young run about the moment after they make their appear- 
 ance, and follow their parents until spring, when, having 
 acquired their full beauty, they pair and breed. 
 
 "The Partridge (Quail) rests at night on the ground, 
 either amongst the grass or under a bent log. The indi- 
 viduals which compose the flock form a ring, and moving 
 backwards, approach each other until their bodies are nearly 
 in contact. This arrangement enables the whole covey to 
 take wing when suddenly alarmed, each flying off in a 
 direct course, so as not to interfere with the rest." 
 
 A straw-stack in the field in winter is a great attraction to 
 the Quail. Here flocks may be seen gleaning the stray ker- 
 nels of grain; and nowhere do their graceful movements 
 and quiet ways appear more winning. If unmolested and 
 treated with a little kindly consideration, they will come 
 even to the barn-yard and share the fare of the domestic 
 fowl. 
 
 Being unsuspecting, and a bird of the fields, the pasture 
 and the orchard, it is the victim of many modes of capture. 
 Moving often in close flocks, many may be taken at a single 
 shot; a figure-four trap may take a number at a time. In 
 this way a lad of my acquaintance once took thirteen, feed- 
 ing them under the trap, and taking them out as they 
 were needed for the table. Audubon describes a method 
 of driving them into a net in large numbers. 
 
 The predominant color of the Quail is a bright reddish- 
 brown, occasionally streaked with black, and again shading 
 into a beautiful gray, white beneath, crossed with zigzag 
 lines of black; throat of the female brownish-yellow, and 
 that of the male white. Smaller than a common bantam 
 hen, it cannot be mistaken in Eastern North America. 
 
 It ranges throughout the Eastern United States to a little 
 north of Massachusetts, and into Canada West and Minne- 
 
THE NORTHERN SHRIKE. 57 
 
 sota. Like others of its order, it is particularly a seed and 
 grain-eating bird. 
 
 The Partridge and the Quail belong to the Gallinaceous 
 or Poultry order of birds, so named because it includes our 
 common domestic fowl. They are for the most part a 
 strongly marked order. The vaulted upper mandible, with 
 its nostrils at the base and "covered by a cartilaginous 
 scale;" the short, rounded wings; the breast-bone, with two 
 such deep emarginations on each side, and the keel so cut 
 away in front as to reduce it to a mere open frame; the 
 heavy flight; the simplicity of the lower larynx; the muscular 
 gizzard and large crop are all points of differentiation 
 which cannot easily be mistaken. They incubate on the 
 ground, having a simple nest and a large number of eggs. 
 
 THE NORTHERN SHRIKE. 
 
 A little to my right is a large buttonwood tree, making a 
 marked and beautiful contrast with the rest of the landscape, 
 for in this tree there is no brown whatever, the trunk and 
 main limbs shaling off almost to a pure white, and the spray 
 being nearly black. 
 
 To an ornithologist a tree is never complete without a 
 bird. So I strain my eyes to detect something of the kind 
 in the thick branches, and am not disappointed. In the 
 thickest part of the top, sitting almost motionless, is a 
 Northern Shrike or Butcher Bird (Lanius borealis). Not 
 far from the size of a Robin, 9-10 inches long, but with a 
 much larger head and thicker neck, and a longer tail, its 
 color is an olivaceous drab, with black patches from the 
 base of the bill back across the eyes and down the sides of 
 the neck; wings and tail black with white markings; under- 
 neath white, with cross-pencilings of black. But this color- 
 ation varies greatly in different individuals, the white some- 
 
58 THE NORTHERN SHRIKE. 
 
 times being very dull, the black quite brownish, or, if both 
 these are quite clear, the drab may be clear and bright, con- 
 taining nothing of the olivaceous. This bird is an inch 
 longer than its cousin, the White-rumped Shrike, the latter 
 being a very common summer resident here, while the 
 former generally spends only the milder or early part of the 
 winter with us;* and all the noise we ever hear from it in 
 that time is a hoarse scream, reminding one a little of a 
 Hawk. Generally it is solitary, but sometimes it is accom- 
 panied by a mate. It must pass the colder part of the -win- 
 ter a little farther south, but is back again on its way north 
 early in spring. It is reported as spending the entire winter 
 in the vicinity of Mauch Chunk, Pennsylvania, and as 
 making its winter trips as far south as 35. 
 
 A few days since, while spending some hours with one of 
 the farmers of my parish, I had a good opportunity to note 
 certain habits of this bird. My friend was drawing in corn- 
 stalks from the field. Several of these Shrikes, perched in 
 small trees scattered in the immediate vicinity, seemed bound 
 to keep him company. Occasionally one would fly out a 
 short distance from his perch, and hover in quest of prey, 
 precisely in the manner of the Sparrow Hawk (Falco spar- 
 verius). Not infrequently a mouse would start out on remov- 
 ing a shock, when it was instantly gobbled up by the 
 familiar, sharp-eyed bird. On removing one shock, a nest of 
 full-grown rats was disturbed, some of which escaped the 
 farmer's boot-heel and fork-tines. Presently I heard a loud 
 squeaking in a corner of the fence near by. On hurrying 
 to the spot, I found a Shrike, regaling itself on one of the 
 young rats, and so intent on its meal that, though I was 
 almost near enough to put my hand on it, it eyed 
 
 * If it be very mild and open, the Great Northern Shrike may remain in Western New 
 York throughout the winter. The Loggerhead is a southern species of which the White- 
 rump is a variety. 
 
THE NORTHERN SHRIKE. 59 
 
 me hesitatingly for some time before concluding to 
 leave. 
 
 In structure, as well as in habit, this bird is quite peculiar. 
 Its bill is not a little like that of a Hawk, while its feet and 
 claws, as well as its general figure, are very much like those 
 of certain birds of song; consequently, with much of the 
 bird of prey in its manner, it is still ranked, in point of 
 structure, between the Vireos and the Finches. It will 
 attack a Sparrow, peck out its brain, lug it around in its 
 beak, and make a meal of it at its leisure, as readily as any of 
 the Raptores, while in feeding it is in general as truly insectiv- 
 orous as that of the most innocent song-bird. Indeed, its 
 destruction of insect-life is altogether uncommon. It does 
 not merely consume them as food, but has a certain bar- 
 barous habit of impaling them in large numbers on thorns, 
 and that for no other purpose than mere wantonness, as it is 
 never known to appropriate them afterward as food. It will 
 sit by the hour in the presence of its struggling victims, and 
 seem utterly indifferent to their tortures. The common 
 European Shrike is represented as impaling small birds on 
 thorns in a similar manner. 
 
 Wilson says: "It retires to the north, and to the higher 
 inland parts of the country to breed. It frequents the deep- 
 est forests; builds a targe and compact nest in the upright 
 fork of a small tree, composed outwardly of dry grass, and 
 whitish moss, and warmly lined within with feathers. The 
 female lays six eggs, of a pale cinerous color, thickly marked 
 at the greater end with spots and streaks of rufous. She 
 sits fifteen days. The young are brought out early in June, 
 sometimes towards the end of May, and during the greater 
 part of the first season are of a brown ferruginous color on 
 the back." 
 
60 THE CROW. 
 
 THE CROW. 
 
 The most noticeable bird of our winter landscape is the 
 Common Crow. Neither cold nor snow can drive him 
 away, while, in mild open weather, he scorns the woods and 
 fields, and rises high in air against the passing breeze, as if 
 he were sole lord of the entire region. He is hardly ever 
 alone, and often appears in quite considerable flocks, some- 
 times in large numbers. To-day he is stepping about the 
 plowed fields and meadows with all his wonted stateliness. 
 What a splendid coat of glossy black he wears! He appears 
 quite as well on the wing, too, as on the ground, moving 
 with a steady, graceful energy, even in the raggedness of 
 his moulting period, when the loss of main pinions is seen 
 in the formidable gaps of either wing. Even his voice, 
 though very much lacking in compass and far from being 
 really musical, has a vigor and a significance amidst nature's 
 sounds, which is far from being unpleasing. In short, we 
 could easily be reconciled to him, aye, even pleased with 
 him, were it not for certain of his thievish and cruel habits 
 of diet. 
 
 Firstly. He is the arch-disturber of the corn-fields. How 
 the farmer is obliged to tax his ingenuity in order to 
 secure himself, in part at least, against his depredations! 
 In that delightful book by Susan Fenimore Cooper, entitled 
 "Rural Hours," is a little paragraph well illustrating the 
 husbandman's resources in this respect. In her diary for 
 the 4th of June she says: "The cornfields are now well 
 garnished with Scare-crows, and it is amusing to see the 
 different devices employed for the purpose. Bits of tin 
 hung upon upright sticks are very general; lines of white 
 twine, crossing the field at intervals near the soil, are also 
 much in favor, and the Crows are said to be particularly shy 
 of this sort of network; other fields are guarded by a num- 
 
THE CROW. 61 
 
 her of little whirligig wind-mills. One large field that we 
 passed evidently belonged to a man of great resources in 
 the way of expedients; for, among a number of contri- 
 vances, no two were alike; in one spot, large as life, stood the 
 usual man of straw ; here was a tin pan on a pole, there a 
 sheet was flapping its full breadth in the breeze, here was a 
 straw hat on a stick, there an old flail ; in one corner a 
 broken tin Dutch oven glittered in the sunshine, and at right 
 angles with it was a tambourine! It must needs be a bold 
 Crow that will venture to attack such a camp." Then she 
 adds in a foot-note: "This field yielded ninety-three bushels 
 of maize to the acre the following autumn." 
 
 The second charge to be brought against the Crow is the 
 destruction of other birds' nests. Never shall I forget the 
 unhappy impression he made upon me many years ago in 
 Nova Scotia, on my first discovery of the Snowbird's 
 (Junco) nest containing young just hatched. The nest 
 was under the bottom rail of a fence, and on approaching it 
 the second time I discovered a Crow in the act of gulping 
 down the last of the young. Never was my indignation 
 over a bird greater, except when, in my childhood, a large 
 Hawk carried off my black chicken. " The most remarka- 
 ble feat of the Crow," says Audubon, " is the nicety with 
 which it, like the Jay, pierces an egg with its bill, in order 
 to carry it off, and eat it with security. In this manner I 
 have seen it steal, one after another, all the eggs of a wild 
 Turkey's nest." " In spring," says Wilson, "when he makes 
 his appearance among the groves and low thickets, all the 
 feathered songsters are instantly alarmed, well knowing the 
 depredations and murders he commits on their nests, eggs, 
 and young." 
 
 But, as in the case of many other transgressors, there are 
 some weighty things to be said in his favor. In the same 
 
62 THE CROW. 
 
 field from which he steals the corn, he destroys many noxious 
 worms and insects, especially cut- worms; not to speak of the 
 snakes, moles and mice, whose career is cut short by him. 
 Besides, to the unprejudiced lover of nature, his presence 
 adds beauty and character to the landscape. 
 
 Between the good services and the mischief done by the 
 Crow, Wilson, Audubon, and most other ornithologists, 
 have found a large balance in his favor, while some, as 
 Samuels, for instance, are well convinced that his depre- 
 dations on crops, and more especially his destruction of the 
 nests and young of the smaller and more useful birds, can- 
 not be compensated by any good and useful office which it 
 is possible for him to fill. The latter view is the one more 
 in harmony with the sentiment of the common people; 
 hence, in various times and places, premiums have been 
 offered for his head, as in the case of the more destructive 
 beasts of prey. In consequence of this, the number destroyed 
 in a single State in a season has been as high as 40,000; 
 and Wilson tells us that, during a winter of " long-continued, 
 deep snow, more than six hundred Crows were shot on the 
 carcass of a dead horse, which was placed at a proper dis- 
 tance from the stable, from a hole of which the discharges 
 were made. The premiums awarded for these, with the 
 price paid for the quills, produced nearly as much as the 
 original value of the horse, besides, as the man himself 
 assured me, saving feathers sufficient for filling a bed." 
 
 But whatever the public sentiment may be, no bird is 
 better able to take care of itself than the Crow. Go into the 
 field or forest, and steal a shot at it if you can! Under all 
 ordinary circumstances, its keen eye and vigilant caution 
 are a full match for its enemies. I do not see how Wilson's 
 school-boy ever secured for him a basket of Crows. If one 
 of my young friends shoots one over the carcass of a dead 
 
THE CROW. 63 
 
 sheep, pointing his gun through a loop-hole in the barn and 
 that did happen once I consider that he does well. 
 
 Though not a few of the Crows remain here over winter; 
 many more appear to go south, where they congregate in 
 immense flocks, and are very destructive. 
 
 The unfrequented evergreen woods of Goat Island at 
 Niagara Falls, in winter, and the steep, forest-clad slopes 
 of the inaccessible gorge from the Falls to Queenstown 
 Heights, throughout the year, are famous roosting places for 
 the Crows. Here they may be seen at night-fall in almost 
 countless numbers, streaming in in long processions from 
 all the region round about. 
 
 The Crow's ordinary note, khrah, khrah, khrah, with a 
 strong, guttural sound before the vowel, is familiar to every 
 one. In the month of April, in New York, when the males 
 are winning the females, the former will perch on some limb 
 of a tall tree in the forest, and bowing most obsequiously, 
 will utter in a low, deep tone the syllables, Chow-ow-ow-ow, 
 chow-ow-ow-ow. 
 
 In respect to diet this species may be called omnivorous; 
 stripping the sour cherry-tree of its abundant crop, stealing 
 a chicken, lighting on the backs of cattle to devour the 
 larvae of the gad-fly under their skin, or regaling, in vast 
 numbers, on offensive carrion, as readily as it would feast on 
 insects and corn. 
 
 The Crow is a most annoying enemy of the Hawks and 
 the Owls. As kingly a bird as the Red-tailed Hawk, can 
 find no peace in his presence. Driven from his lordly perch 
 among tall trees, I have seen him condescend to alight 
 among the tall grass of the meadow, as if to hide himself 
 away from persecution; but here the Crows would dive 
 into his face, and, with the most persistent impudence, com- 
 pel him to take shelter in some distant wood. 
 
64 THE CROW. 
 
 One day last April, while lying under a bush by a stream, 
 and in the edge of a forest, in watch of ducks, I was startled 
 by a stentorious demonstration near by among the Crows. 
 Looking up I saw an immense tree-top literally black with 
 them. The object of their indignation, to which every head 
 was turned, was a Great Horned Owl, which sat staring and 
 blinking in the middle of the tree. Evidently their bowing 
 in concert with raised wings, and cawing enough to tear 
 their throats, were anything but agreeable to him. The roar 
 might have been heard a mile or more away, as each poured 
 forth his volume of charges against this goggling, glimmer- 
 ing Night-watch. Presently, several dashed at him with 
 wide-spread wings, when he rose and beat away through 
 the tree-tops, followed by the long and deafening train of 
 black persecutors. Alighting low down among the hem- 
 locks, he was as bitterly attacked as before; and though he 
 moved thus several times, until he was more than a mile 
 away, I could still hear the same noisy demonstrations of 
 bitter and persistent ill-will. 
 
 The nest, which is well hidden in the forest, and made 
 early in spring, is composed of sticks, interwoven and lined 
 with grasses, and sometimes with considerable horse-hair 
 and other soft materials, there being almost invariably some 
 dark mould in the bottom, perhaps to keep it cool. It is 
 generally placed pretty well up in a tree, and contains from 
 four to six eggs, of a light green, spotted and blotched with 
 blackish brown, and about the size of a small hen's egg, 
 some 1.70 X 1.20. On Manitoulin Island and in the vicinity 
 I found the Crow's nests in immense numbers. Indeed, they 
 were much more common than the nest of any other bird. 
 
 Can the Crow learn to talk? To this I have but one 
 authoritative answer. A very intelligent and estimable 
 lady, the daughter of a frontier missionary in the early 
 
THE CROW. 65 
 
 days of Kansas, tells me that she has heard a Crow talk. 
 An Indian used to visit the mission station, bringing with 
 him one of these birds tamed, with the tongue split, and 
 able to mimic distinctly quite a number of words, as also 
 to originate little sentences of his own. During one of 
 these Indian visits, a patch of land connected with the 
 statioH was being plowed. The Crow, with his bright 
 red ribbon tied around him and trailing on the ground, was 
 busy picking up the insects, when our lady, then a little 
 girl, along with her sisters, was trying to catch the ends of 
 ribbon. Just as their tiny hands were about to grasp them, 
 the wily Crow would spring forward, thus eluding their 
 grasp, and looking back would tauntingly say, "You didn't, 
 did you ?" Well done for a Crow ! 
 
 At Pittsburgh, Audubon once saw a pair of Crows per- 
 fectly white. Also a trusty parishioner of mine testifies 
 that some years since he was accustomed, for some time, to 
 see a pure white Crow leading the flock from one block of 
 woods on his farm to another. 
 
 The home of our Crow is throughout temperate North 
 America to 55, excepting the central plains and southern 
 Rocky Mountains. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 BELOW ZERO. 
 
 SUDDEN changes are common to this climate. Immedi- 
 ately following our open winter weather comes a fall of 
 temperature below zero, with just snow enough on a smooth- 
 worn, hard-frozen road to make the sleighs slip easily. 
 The snow crunches under foot, and, what is rather uncom- 
 mon here, the trees and buildings resound with a strange 
 snapping, almost equal to the report of a pistol, as if the 
 nails in the buildings were springing out and the trunks of 
 the trees were bursting asunder sounds very mysterious to 
 me in my childhood, but now understood to be caused by 
 an expansion, on the freezing of water contained in the 
 crevices of the trees or in the little exposed cavities of 
 buildings. 
 
 THE SNOWY OWL. 
 
 There is something peculiarly exhilarating in this kind of 
 weather. Everybody moves as if in a hurry; and, notwith- 
 standing the cold, one discovers a strong inclination to be 
 out. I am once more on my way to the favorite woods 
 beyond the peach orchard, gun in hand. As I move briskly 
 along that part of the orchard bordering on the forest, I put 
 up a large bird, almost as white as the snow itself. The 
 spread of its wings and tail is immense, and its flight is so 
 noiseless and dignified that one might almost think it some 
 living spiritual impersonation of winter. I take aim, and 
 
THE SNOWY OWL. 67 
 
 down it tumbles headforemost into the snow. But it is only 
 winged; so, taking it by the wings stretched over the back, 
 I carry it home to surprise the family. That it is a female 
 is to be inferred from its great size and from its more 
 numerous dark markings; the male of this species being 
 sometimes so free of the dark spots as to appear pure white, 
 and the greater size of the female being peculiar to birds of 
 prey. 
 
 Little children are apt naturalists, and have many 
 questions to ask on an occasion like this, so I use my bird 
 for an object-lesson. I call their attention to the large 
 head, peculiar to the Owls among birds; and, turning the 
 round, weird, half-human face fully before them, call their 
 attention to the large eyes fairly in front, while the eyes of 
 other birds are on the sides of the head; point to the circle 
 of fringed feathers around the eyes, part of which nearly 
 covers the bill, and part of which laps over the immense 
 ear-hole; and note the eye-lashes, so strange among birds 
 This large, round, cat-like face, having also an almost 
 human aspect, is at once the weirdest and the most highly 
 sensitive. It is all eye and ear, stealthily confronting every 
 sound that may break the stillness of the night, and every 
 object that may loom up in the gloaming or the darkness. 
 
 " Do you see how the outer web of the outer wing-feathers 
 or primaries is recurved, as if it had been firmly brushed 
 backwards?" I asked my little girl. "What's that for?" 
 she inquired curiously. " So that it can fly without making 
 any noise," I replied; "that arrangement of the outer web, 
 as also the general softness and looseness of the plumage, 
 muffles the stroke of the wing, and enables the bird to steal 
 upon its prey in the still hours of the night without alarm- 
 ing it. All the Owls, being night-birds of prey, have this 
 modification of the wing." " O-o-o-o-oh! see that hole in 
 
68 THE SNOWY OWL. 
 
 his face!" exclaimed my little boy, as I raised those long, 
 loose feathers, arranged in the manner of a disk on the cheek 
 of this bird. "That is his ear," I said; "all Owls have their 
 ears in their cheeks." " That's a wonderfully big ear, I 
 think; what does he have it covered up for?" he queried. 
 " That is the fashion with birds; they generally have their 
 ears covered," I replied. " Should think he'd want to have 
 such a hole in his face covered," he continued. " He's got 
 his face well wrapped up," said my little girl, as I parted 
 the thick mass of feathers covering the face and the black 
 bill almost to the very tip. "Shouldn't think his feet 'ud 
 get cold either with such stockings. I wish he'd let me 
 have 'em for my dolly this cold weather!" 
 
 This bird is, indeed, most wonderfully protected againt 
 the cold. Not only are the feet and legs so thickly covered 
 with a long, dense, hair-like plumage, that the great, black 
 claws are almost concealed, but the entire plumage of the 
 body beneath the surface is of the most downy and elastic 
 kind, and so thickly matted together that it is almost proof 
 against the smaller kind of ammunition. 
 
 "Wish I had some of them for my doll's hat ! " continued 
 the little girl, as I plucked off a few of the ostrich-like 
 plumes from the lower part of the body. 
 
 Wilson notes a peculiarity of the eye of this bird, and of 
 the Owls generally. He says: "The globe of the eye is 
 immovably fixed in its socket by a strong, elastic, hard,, 
 cartilaginous case, in form of a truncated cone; this case, 
 being closely covered with a skin, appears, at first, to be of 
 one continued piece; but, on removing the exterior mem- 
 brane, it is found to be formed of fifteen pieces, placed like 
 the staves of a cask, overlapping a little at the base or nar- 
 row end, and seems as if capable of being enlarged or con- 
 tracted, perhaps by the muscular membrane with which 
 
THE SNOWY OWL. . 69 
 
 they are encased. * * The eye being thus fixed, 
 
 these birds, as they view different objects, are always 
 obliged to turn the head; and nature has so excellently 
 adapted their neck to this purpose that they can, with ease, 
 turn it round, without moving the body, in almost a com- 
 plete circle."* 
 
 The Snowy Owl is a bird of the Arctic regions. Common 
 in the extreme north of both continents, it is ever at home 
 amidst ice and snow; migrating southward in winter, 
 regularly into the New England and the Middle States, and 
 casually even to the extreme Southern States, breeding, ac- 
 cording to the best authorities, as far south as the Canadas, 
 and probably even in the north of Maine. I am not sure 
 but it may rarely breed here; for, as late as the 7th of May, 
 1877, two were seen in the vicinity of Lockport, N. Y., one 
 of which was shot and brought to me a fine old male. 
 The nest is said to be on the ground, in which are laid 
 ''three or four white eggs, measuring about 2^6 inches in 
 length by 2 in breadth." Mr. Fortiscue says that at York 
 Factory, Hudson's Bay, it goes north in summer. 
 
 According to Wilson, "the usual food of this species 
 is said to be hares, grouse, rabbits, ducks, mice, and 
 even carrion. Unlike most of its tribe, it hunts by day as 
 well as by twilight, and is particularly fond of frequenting 
 the shores and banks of shallow rivers, over the surface of 
 which it slowly sails, or sits on a rock a little raised above 
 the water, watching the fish. These it seizes with a sudden 
 and instantaneous stroke of the foot, seldom missing its aim." 
 
 In my parish it has been known to attack the hens in 
 the barn-yard in broad daylight. 
 
 This bird cannot be mistaken; nearly or about two feet 
 long, white, with more or less scattered and lunated spots of 
 
 * This, however, is a characteristic structure of the eye of birds generally. 
 
70 WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. 
 
 dark brown or dusky, thickest on the back, not found on the 
 legs and feet; eyes, bright golden yellow; feet and claws, 
 black. 
 
 I must not close my account of this bird without giving 
 a striking incident reported to me by a most venerable and 
 trustworthy old gentleman in my church, who was person- 
 ally acquainted with the party, and to whom the facts were 
 well authenticated at the time. About fifty years ago, in 
 the town of Milford, Otsego County, N. Y., a man, on pass- 
 ing through a woods in the night, was twice knocked down 
 by some strange power in the air; and, securing a club in 
 time for the third rencounter, killed a large Snowy Owl, 
 which, by this time, had knocked his hat full of holes, and 
 sorely bruised his head. 
 
 WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. 
 
 "All times are good times to go a-shooting." So says 
 Dr. Coues; and knowing it to be so, I am again in the 
 woods on this cold day. 
 
 I am struck, on entering, with the deserted look of the 
 forest, and all the more on account of having seen this 
 same spot, so many times, in all the life and splendor of 
 summer the trees in their marvelous robes of verdure, 
 the wild flowers in all their grace and beauty, the birds in 
 the full animation and song of spring. The wondrous 
 power of memory reproduces in an instant all this combi- 
 nation, with its delightful associations of coolness and fra- 
 grance. Now the trees are bare, the flowers are perished, 
 and the birds are gone; and how different is the solemn 
 sough of the winter wind through leafless trees to the 
 musical rustle of the summer breeze amidst the foliage! 
 Did I say the birds are gone? No; not entirely. Quank, 
 quank, quank. That note, so much louder in winter than in 
 
WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. 71 
 
 summer, for the same reason that sounds are louder in the 
 night than in day-time that sound, half guttural, half 
 nasal, and on a low key, is one of the most familiar in our 
 woods throughout the year. It is the language of the 
 White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis], a bird so com- 
 mon here as to be familiar to every woodman, though he 
 may have no better name for it than Sapsucker, and may 
 know no more about it than to suppose the name charac- 
 teristic of its habits. But this bird is thus greatly misun- 
 derstood, for while it is supposed to be living upon the sap 
 of the tree, it is simply gleaning noxious insects and their 
 eggs and larvae. 
 
 Whatever may be the woodman's opinion of the bird, its 
 presence affords him pleasure on a bleak winter's day, 
 partly because it is often his only relief from solitude, and 
 partly because the bird is a pleasing object in itself. How 
 gracefully it moves along the trunk of yonder tree ! A 
 slight halt every few steps, it goes in a spiral direction, 
 head up or down, moving forward, backward, or sidewise 
 with equal convenience, every now and then pausing with 
 its downward head and bill in a horizontal position, as if 
 listening intently, and then taking up its note as it passes 
 on, as if to express its sense of safety and satisfaction. 
 With this note it can favor one as readily on a frosty day 
 in winter as in the genial days of spring. Then, however, it 
 makes quite an attempt at a song, uttering a tway-tway-tivay- 
 tway-tway, quite rapidly, and with much spirit, as it threads its 
 way in the leafless trees on a bright April morning. Occa- 
 sionally it will utter in an undertone a soft "tsink, tsink" or 
 "kip, kip" Sometimes it will alight on the ground, appar- 
 ently to catch something which it has spied from a distance; 
 or, for a few minutes, it will search the ground after the 
 manner of the Golden-winged Woodpecker. The name 
 
72 WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH. 
 
 Nuthatch, though rather far-fetched, is not altogether inap- 
 plicable. Holding an acorn or chestnut in a bark-crevice, 
 or in a chink of a fence-rail, it will hammer it with its sharp- 
 pointed bill till it opens up the contents. This is done, 
 however, on account of the larvae burrowing in the fruit 
 rather than for the fruit itself, for the bird is at all times 
 strictly insectivorous. Then its form and color, too, are as 
 pleasing as its movements. About six inches long, bill f6 of 
 an inch; head and bill together, about \% inch long; tail, 
 short; wings, long; the breadth across the shoulders giving 
 it a somewhat flat appearance; bluish ash over the back, 
 the outer webbing of the black wings edged with the same, 
 also the two middle tail feathers; the rest black, marked 
 with white; head and back of neck in male, glossy black; 
 in the female, black and ash mixed; whole under parts and 
 sides of head, grayish-white this bird cannot be mistaken. 
 Its long hind toe and claw must be of great service in its 
 downward movements. 
 
 The Eastern United States and the British Provinces are 
 given as its habitat. Its nesting habits are similar to those 
 of the Chickadee; commonly on higher ground, however, 
 and the cavity chosen or excavated higher up in the stub or 
 decaying tree, sometimes as high as thirty or forty feet; the 
 eggs being a little larger and more thickly marked. 
 
 A set of five eggs in Professor Ward's cabinet at Roches- 
 ter, N. Y., from Saratoga Springs, averages about .50 x .75 
 inch, are porcelain-white, with a few spots, or rather brush- 
 touches, of dark-greenish or ocherous-yellow, at the large 
 end elegant! By the 9th of June I have seen the parents 
 feeding the young well able to fly. The latter strongly 
 resembled the mature female, except that the white on the 
 cheeks and sides of the neck extended further upward, leav- 
 ing the dark band over the crown and hind neck very nar- 
 
- THE BL UE JA Y. 73 
 
 row. Great care is shown these younglings by the parents 
 in training them to creep and fly, and in feeding them most 
 assiduously till quite mature. Indeed, the whole family 
 seem not infrequently to remain together throughout the 
 first year. 
 
 THE RED-BELLIED NUTHATCH. 
 
 Very similar to the above in appearance and habit is the 
 Red-bellied Nuthatch (Sitta canadensis), except that it is 
 quite a little smaller, scarcely five inches long, has a white 
 line over the eye, and the under parts of a pale rust-red. 
 The female has the black about the head replaced with dark 
 slate or dusky. The notes of this species are on a little 
 higher key than those of Carolinensis, and its nest and 
 eggs are precisely like those of the Chickadee. It is north- 
 erly, passing through New York State late in April and 
 early in May, and again in September and October. Its 
 breeding habitat begins in the northern parts of the State, 
 extending through northern New England and into the 
 British Provinces. 
 
 The little Brown-headed Nuthatch (Sitta pusilla), some 
 4.25 long and differentiated by its elegant brown head and 
 white spot on the nape, is a resident of the Southern States. 
 There the sunny pine forests echo its note " each, each, 
 each" its nesting and habits in general being quite similar 
 to those of our Nuthatches above described. 
 
 THE BLUE JAY. 
 
 The thermometer continues near zero. Large windows 
 are now truly objects of beauty, their frosted patterns being 
 inimitable. The larger figures remind one of ferns, or forest 
 trees in miniature; some are like thin snow-flakes of varied 
 size and pattern, some like delicate lines fringed mostly at 
 right angles; others are simply granulated with exquisitely 
 
74 THE BLUE JA Y. 
 
 scrolled borders, while others still are suggestive of land- 
 scapes and pictures all so delicate as to impress one forci- 
 bly with the spirituality of the laws which govern matter. 
 
 THE BLUE JAY. 
 
 What a study it would be for the physicist to determine the 
 variations possible on the one plan of crystallization of water 
 at an angle of 60! 
 
 To-day I came into possession of a bird, the brilliant col- 
 ors of which are strikingly in contrast with the plainness of 
 winter. The Blue Jay (Cyanurus cristatus) is one of our win- 
 ter residents, not so generally distributed as in most parts 
 of our country, but quite common to certain low, timbered 
 lands, where it is permanent, and breeds in considerable 
 numbers. 
 
 This is one of the most characteristic birds of Eastern 
 North America. Who does not know the Blue Jay? About 
 a foot long, five inches, or near one-half his length, is meas- 
 ured by his tail; well proportioned, crested and fan-tailed, 
 his form is elegant and his bearing stately; his various and 
 
THE BLUE JAY. 75 
 
 delicately-shaded tints of blue, the jet-black bars and snow- 
 white tips of the wing and tail feathers, the black band from 
 the back of the crest down the sides of the neck and meet- 
 ing on the breast, and thus being most noticeable on the 
 subdued grayish- white of the cheeks and underparts are 
 all in the most marked and pleasing contrast. No colored 
 portrait which I have ever seen is anything more than a 
 coarse caricature of the purplish-blue of the crest and back, 
 the brownish-blue on the tail, and delicate shadings of rich 
 indigo, ultra-marine and light azure on the wings. A single 
 feather of the wing or tail, dropped in the pasture, used to 
 excite my childish curiosity and love of beauty. Looking 
 merely at his size and gay dress, who would suspect him to 
 be a member of the Crow family ? Surely he is a favorite 
 arrayed in a coat of many colors. Not only is he elegant in 
 form and gay in apparel, but every motion indicates a proud, 
 self-consciousness and love of display. Even his flight, 
 which is straightforward and steady, is showy rather than 
 rapid. When alighted, he stands upright, with elevated 
 crest, and all his movements show an air of vanity and self- 
 complacency. 
 
 His notes are many and various. His common, saucy- 
 squealing, chay, chay, chay, which, no doubt, gave him his 
 name in part the other part being derived from his color 
 must be familiar to all who know him. "PwUhilly>pwii- 
 hily" and " chillack, chillack" are among his other more 
 common utterances, while a sort of creaking, clucking 
 sound may be regarded as his love-call. He is capable of 
 imitating many birds, and there is some authority for assert- 
 ing that he, true to his crow-nature, has even been taught 
 to imitate words. He is especially fond of teasing. Wilson 
 says: "He is not only bold and vociferous, but possesses a 
 considerable talent for mimicry, and seems to enjoy great 
 
70 THE BLUE JAY. 
 
 satisfaction in mocking and teasing other birds, particularly 
 the Little Hawk (F. sparverius), imitating his cry whenever 
 he sees him, and squealing out as if caught; this soon 
 brings a number of his own tribe around him, who all join 
 in the frolic, darting about the Hawk, and feigning the cries 
 of a bird sorely wounded and already under the clutches 
 of its devourer; while others lie concealed in the bushes, 
 ready to second their associates in the attack. But this ludi- 
 crous farce often terminates tragically. The Hawk, singling 
 out one of the most insolent and provoking, sweeps upon 
 him in an unguarded moment, and offers him up a sacrifice 
 to his hunger and resentment. In an instant the tune is 
 changed; all their buffoonery vanishes, and loud and inces- 
 sant screams proclaim their disaster." 
 
 Like his near relative, the Crow, he takes delight in tor- 
 menting the Owls. 
 
 But lacking as the Blue Jay is in anything like gentle or 
 winning ways, he might still meet with a fair toleration 
 were it not for his thievish and cruel habits. How he will 
 devour the fresh eggs from the bird's nests in his neighbor- 
 hood on the sly, gobble up even the tender young, some- 
 times in his barbarous daintiness taking nothing but the 
 eyes and brain! how he will pick out the eyes of a wounded 
 grouse; how he will steal corn from the bin, fruit from the 
 garden, and grain from the barn, has been noted by orni- 
 thologists in general. I have seen him lugging around an old 
 sparrow in the tops of the trees, in the month of May, pick- 
 ing out the eyes and brain at his leisure, and seemingly 
 without the least compunction; while, like all other tyrants, 
 when the true test comes, he is by no means brave, often 
 " turning tail " to birds much smaller than himself. In view 
 of all this, who will pity him when, during the long winter 
 months, he is obliged to subsist on the frozen apples of the 
 
THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER. 77 
 
 orchard, or, at other times of scarcity, to glean scraps 
 of carrion! His best living, probably, is when the nuts 
 are ripe and plenty. Like other members of the Crow 
 family, he can eat anything, and so is called omniv- 
 orous. 
 
 In the breeding season the Blue Jay is partial to the ever- 
 greens of the forest, especially to dense cedar swamps, the nest 
 being most commonly built in an evergreen tree, generally 
 near the trunk, and anywhere from ten to thirty feet from the 
 ground. The outside of the nest is composed of small twigs, 
 the inside of fine rootlets, closely interwoven for the kind of 
 materials, and having a dark appearance. The eggs, four or 
 five in number, and about the size of those of a Robin, about 
 1.15 x -85, are greenish-drab, finely speckled all over with 
 light-brown and dull-lilac. 
 
 Habitat, Eastern North America, from the Gulf to 56, 
 breeding throughout its range. 
 
 The Florida Jay (Aphelocoma floridand), lacking the crest 
 and the elegant black bars on wings and tail, is also blue 
 and about the same size as the above. With no white 
 markings on wings and tail, a plain gray patch on the back, 
 and a whitish forehead, it is much plainer. The blue band 
 about the head and neck contrasts finely, however, with the 
 gray of the back and breast. It is abundant in Florida, 
 and seems to be pretty much confined to that locality. 
 
 THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER. 
 
 Between sunset and dark of this cold winter-day, I behold 
 a most beautiful effect in the eastern sky. All along 
 the horizon is a broad band of brilliant green, which 
 gradually shades into a still broader band of rich purple, 
 and this latter, on approaching the zenith, shades into a 
 cold winter-gray. In the midst of the purple is the moon 
 
78 THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER. 
 
 just before the full, and in front of the green is a bright 
 train of silvery clouds, tinted with the lingering hues of a 
 rosy sunset. 
 
 I am traversing the border of a large tract of woods, 
 when, high above the rest of the trees, in the tops of the tower- 
 ing elms, I discern the form and flight of the Golden-winged 
 Woodpecker (Colaptes auratus], a bird but occasionally seen 
 in this locality in winter. Silent and shy, he makes off as 
 fast as convenient, keeping to the tops of the tallest trees. 
 I strain my eyes for a last glimpse of him, but he soon 
 vanishes in the gloaming. 
 
 What a train of recollections and associations that mo- 
 mentary flight recalls! Next to the Robin, Bluebird, or 
 Barn Swallow, few members of the feathered tribes are bet- 
 ter known than " Flicker," " High-hole," "Yellow-hammer," 
 etc., for the Golden-wing is known by all these names. 
 His several notes are among the most characteristic sounds 
 of spring, at which time he is thoroughly noisy. Com- 
 ing from the south in large numbers late in March or 
 early in April, ascending some tall, dry tree-top at early 
 dawn, he announces himself either by a sonorous rapping 
 on the dry wood or by a loud squealing, but jovial call, 
 chee-ah, chee-ah which, once noted, is not easily forgotten. But 
 even this latter is not half so awakening as a certain pro- 
 longed strain, of merely two syllables in regular repetition, 
 something like whric'k-ah whrick-ah whric'k-ah whrick- 
 ah whric'k-ah whric'k-ah. This vocal performance, meant 
 for a song no doubt, is a mere rollicking racket toned 
 down, indeed, amidst the many voices of spring, and 
 even rendered pleasing by its good-natured hilarity. How 
 significant is that little love-note, yu-cah, half guttural, 
 half whisper, which he repeats at intervals as he flits 
 about the solitude of the forest in spring, or plays bo- 
 
THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER. 79 
 
 peep with his lover around the broken-off top or limb of 
 some dead tree ! 
 
 His flight is swift, vigorous and dashing; is performed in 
 curves by a few flaps of the wings, curving upward several 
 feet when alighting on the trunk of a tree, but ending hori- 
 zontally when alighting cross-wise on limbs, after the man- 
 ner of perching birds. In manner, as in structure, he is not 
 precisely like the rest of his family. At home anywhere 
 from the tallest tree-top to the ground, and always in a 
 hurry when afoot, he will capture his insect food after the 
 manner of Robins and Sparrows. Ants of all sizes are spe- 
 cially in favor with him. Why he should have such a 
 decided preference for this dry diet it is difficult to conceive 
 perhaps on account of the tickling sensation which large 
 numbers of these vigorous little creatures may afford when 
 taken alive into the stomach. In summer and in autumn, 
 when these birds are sometimes exceedingly numerous, they 
 do not disdain certain kinds of small fruit, as wild grapes 
 and elderberries. 
 
 The nidification of this species is so much like that of 
 other Woodpeckers as to need no special notice, except in 
 two particulars, viz., that Flicker frequently chooses a 
 much decayed stub, and that the eggs are especially trans- 
 lucent and beautiful, the yolk appearing through the shell 
 when fresh. It may perhaps be added that the eggs are 
 sometimes laid at irregular intervals and in extraordinary 
 numbers. 
 
 About the size of a Pigeon, some 12.50 length and 
 19.00 extent, with bill slightly curved, its head and neck 
 are of a purplish-drab, with a scarlet crescent on the back of 
 the head, and, in the male, a black spot on each cheek at 
 the base of the bill; upper parts greenish-brown, spotted with 
 black; rump white and very conspicuous in flight; under 
 
80 THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER. 
 
 parts reddish-white, beautifully spotted with black; a black 
 crescent on the breast; shafts of the larger feathers, under 
 side of wings and tail a rich yellow. 
 
 This bird ranges through Eastern North America, resid- 
 ing from the Middle States southward, some wintering as 
 far north as New England, and breeding throughout its 
 range. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 A JANUARY THAW. 
 
 IT is the last of January, 1880. We have had a complete 
 thaw; the frost is about out of the ground; the sunny days 
 would do credit to the last of March. Of course, ornitholo- 
 gists are on the lookout such days as these, so I must to 
 the fields and to the woods. 
 
 THE SNOW-BIRD. 
 
 As I spring over a pasture fence I startle a flock of Snow- 
 birds (Junco hyemalis] from among the withered golden-rods 
 of last year. Tse-tse-tse-tse-tse, and they leave en masse for the 
 brush-heap yonder. Both sight and sound give me clue to 
 them at once, for they are common here from October till 
 May. The great body of them, however, pass south- 
 ward in autumn and northward in spring, it being one of 
 the most abundant birds in the migrations. 
 
 Who does not love the Snow-bird? Not for its gay 
 apparel, however, for it is not only plain, but even sombre in 
 dress. The Mourning Sparrow, it might be called. A fine 
 male is almost as dark as crape, the pure white of his bil 1 , 
 feet and legs, lower breast and under parts and feathers on 
 either side of his tail, being a most delicate set-off. The 
 female, when lightest, has the dark parts, a half mourning 
 gray, or dark drab. How strikingly in harmony is this little 
 bird with the gloom of autumn, the bleak days of winter, 
 or the chilly winds and unclad fields of early spring! 
 6 
 
82 THE SNOW-BIRD. 
 
 In size, structure, and habit, it is every whit a Sparrow, 
 and quite frequently chooses the various members of that 
 family for its company. Most intimately is the history of 
 
 THE SNOW-BIRD. 
 
 this bird associated with my childhood. I well remember 
 the sunny spring day in Nova Scotia, when, in my boyish 
 delight, I found the first two bird's nests the first, that of 
 the Hermit Thrush; the second, that of a Snow-bird. Ever 
 after I found the nest of the latter among the most com- 
 mon. Situated like that of the Song Sparrow, generally on 
 the ground and under some protection, rarely on a stump 
 or in a low bush, it is neatly built and most softly lined 
 with hair often the hair rubbed off by the cattle on the 
 stumps. It contains some four eggs about .80 x -60, of a 
 fleshy white, sometimes tinged with blue, delicately specked 
 with reddish-brown. This nest is a very gem of its kind 
 almost proof in itself against the boyish propensity to dis- 
 
THE SNOW-BIRD. 83 
 
 turb this kind of treasure. When startled from her nest 
 the female is much excited, hobbling along on the ground as 
 if lame or leg-broken, her wide-spread tail showing the white 
 feathers on either side the mark of relationship to the 
 Bay-wing to the best advantage. Hopping about the 
 nearest stump or fence-rail, in the most uneasy manner, 
 she is joined immediately by her darker mate, in her sharp 
 chip-chip-chip-chip-chipping, and again takes possession of the 
 nest as soon as the intruder leaves. The chipping note of 
 this bird is so much like that of the Chipping Sparrow 
 (Spizella socialis) that Wilson found many persons in New 
 England and some in New York State who believed that 
 the former turned into the latter in summer, and it was most 
 difficult to remove the erroneous notion. 
 
 Resembling the Song Sparrow in size and general habit, 
 the Snow-bird differs widely from it, not only in color, but 
 in its song, which is a prolonged tintinnabulous twitter a 
 more musical rendering of the monotonous strokes in the 
 plain melody of the Chipping Sparrow. Sometimes, how- 
 ever, one may surprise it in a soft, low warble, as if indulg- 
 ing in a musical soliloquy. 
 
 Though belonging to the Fringillidce, or seed-eating family, 
 it is, in summer at least, particularly insectivorous, completely 
 crowding its mouth with soft, writhing larvae for its young. 
 
 Audubon gave the Alleghany Mountain range as the breed- 
 ing habitat of this bird, and did not see it in Labrador. 
 Minot reports it breeding in the White Mountains early in 
 June, and sometimes again in July. Augustus H. Wood, 
 an ornithologist residing at Painted Post, N. Y., reports it 
 breeding commonly in his neighborhood, in damp situations 
 in ravines of hemlock woods. I have myself seen the 
 female, on the 7th of June, her mouth crammed with larvae, 
 in Tonawanda Swamp, in Orleans County, N. Y. Dr. Coues 
 
84 THE MEADOW LARK. 
 
 informs me that in suitable localities it breeds southward, 
 even to Virginia and North Carolina. May not the damp 
 coolness of the swamp retain northern birds during the 
 breeding season as well as do the mountain ranges? 
 
 The Snow-bird winters from Southern New England 
 southward to the Gulf States. In the Rocky Mountains and 
 to the westward it is replaced by closely-allied species or 
 varieties. 
 
 THE MEADOW LARK. 
 
 It is ten o'clock in the forenoon. A strong south wind springs 
 up, and the sky, so clear and sunny an hour ago, is covered 
 with dense, gray clouds. I am strolling along the telegraph 
 road by an old stone fence, when a pair of Meadow Larks 
 (Sturnella magnd] light on the fence a few rods from me, 
 scarcely able to stand up against the wind. They are occa- 
 sionally seen here throughout the winter. 
 
 For the most part, however, this is a migratory bird, 
 entering the Middle States, New England, and correspond- 
 ing latitudes about the second week in March, and going 
 south in flocks with the later migrations to spend the 
 winter in the Southern States. Here, according to Wilson, 
 at this time of year, " they swarm among the rice planta- 
 tions, running about the yards and out-houses, accompanied 
 by the Killdeers, with little appearance of fear, as if quite 
 domesticated." 
 
 In the wet, chilly days of March we are forcibly reminded 
 that spring is here by the clear, sweet, but plaintive warble, 
 which comes in soft, whistling tones from meadow and 
 pasture, wee-tsee-tsee-ree-ee, tsce-ree-tsee-ree-ce. The strange 
 flight, too, consisting of a few tremulous, vibrating strokes 
 of the wings, succeeded by a short sailing, clearly distin- 
 guishes the Meadow Lark. What strange impulse is it 
 which starts this bird thus early northward to buffet 
 
THE MEADOW LARK. 85 
 
 benumbing winds and rains? Had we the wings of a bird, 
 would we not then fly away to sunnier climes and be at rest? 
 
 Always a bird of the fields, hence sometimes called " Old 
 Field Lark," on its arrival it keeps to the ground, the 
 stone heaps, and the fence. As the period of mating and 
 nidification approaches, the male becomes quite noisy. 
 Launching into the air at a considerable height, instead of 
 his whistling warble, he gives vent to a loud, guttural twitter. 
 Frequently alighting in solitary trees about the field, he 
 steps back and forth, and jerks and spreads his tail in the 
 most uneasy and excited manner. The female, meanwhile, 
 seems shy and retiring, and frequently needs a good deal of 
 coaxing on the part of the male; but in due time receives 
 his amorous attentions with the utmost complacency. 
 
 Though this species breeds in Florida already in the latter 
 part of April, nidification does not begin here till the middle 
 or latter part of May. In the case of a most typical nest, an 
 excavation is made in a tussock of grass; coarse dried 
 grasses are duly arranged as a frame- work, and the lining 
 is of fine grasses, while the dried grasses of the previous 
 year, still standing around the excavation, are matted and 
 arranged overhead with other material, so as to form a roof 
 open on one side. In this cozy home are placed four or five 
 white eggs, a little larger than those of a Robbin, about 
 1.10 x .80, speckled, and sometimes blotched, with reddish- 
 brown and lilac. Sometimes, however, the nest is quite 
 exposed, like that of a Bay-winged Sparrow. In New York 
 State a second brood may be raised. The young are most 
 tenderly cared for by the parents for weeks after being able 
 to fly; indeed, up to the period of migration the whole 
 family generally keep together. When caring for their 
 young the parent birds have a peculiar note, which sounds 
 like guaip, quaip. 
 
86 THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER. 
 
 In the beautiful days of October the male often indulges 
 in his delicious warble. At this time the moult has some- 
 what changed his appearance. The brown tips and mark- 
 ings of the black feathers above, the more perfect fringes 
 of very light brown, which adorn all the dark plumage, as 
 well as the various light markings about the head, are all of 
 a warmer, redder tint, while the bright-yellow underneath, 
 and especially the jet-black and somewhat heart-shaped 
 collar on the breast, are so deeply fringed with reddish as 
 to render them somewhat obscure. In plumage, voice and 
 nidification, this bird resembles the Lark, but in structure, 
 it is more properly an American Starling. On the prairies 
 and plains of the far west there is a lighter-colored variety, 
 said to differ in song; while in South America, there is a 
 beautiful Red-breasted Lark, similar to ours in form, size, 
 and marking. 
 
 The Meadow Lark's long-pointed bill and enormous legs 
 and feet may be regarded as indicative of its ground-life 
 and insect diet. Though seeming to be a rather awkwardly- 
 shaped bird when examined in the hand, it often takes an 
 attitude when alighting, especially if on a rock, which is 
 exceedingly graceful. 
 
 Breeding in Texas and Florida northward as far as the 
 Columbia and the Saskatchawan rivers, Mr. Everett Smith 
 reports it as " common in western Maine;" and adds, "not 
 common east of the Kennebeck Valley, and almost unknown 
 east of the Penobscot Valley. Much less abundant in the 
 western part of the State now than twenty years ago." Mr. 
 Chamberlain notes it as "a rare summer resident" in New 
 Brunswick. 
 
 THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER. 
 
 I pass on to the woods and meet a striking object but 
 occasionally seen in our winter landscape, the Red-headed 
 
THE BROWN CREEPER. 87 
 
 Woodpecker (Mclanerpes erythrocephalus). About the size of 
 most of its relatives in this locality, some 9.50 long, 
 with bright-scarlet head and neck, upper parts black with 
 steel-blue reflections, except the rump and secondaries, 
 which, like the under parts, are white, it is so well known 
 as to need but little description. This bird is a common 
 resident here during the summer, and, in most respects, is 
 so like other Woodpeckers in habit as to need but little 
 special history in a work like this. Its partiality to road- 
 sides, its striking coloration of red, white and black, making 
 it one of the most strikingly beautiful bird-ornaments of 
 our landscape, and its excessive fondness for fruit, especially 
 cherries, are its most marked peculiarities. Its ordinary 
 call, ker-er-er-er-er, when rollicking in the tree-tops, is very 
 characteristic. 
 
 THE BROWN CREEPER. 
 
 The Red-head passes out of sight, and for a while all is 
 silent. Hark! there is a soft conversational twitter among 
 the hemlocks. I wait patiently, and strain my eyes in this 
 direction and that, but for some minutes can see nothing. 
 Presently a troop of Chickadees appear; then several White- 
 bellied Nuthatches, uttering a soft kip, kip, kip, and an 
 occasional sonorous quank, quank, pass by in their usual 
 spirited manner; and, while they are yet passing, two Brown 
 Creepers (Certhia familiaris) come in sight. Lighting at the 
 base of the trees, they ascend them by dainty little jerks in 
 a spiral manner, gleaning food as they go, uttering an 
 occasional soft chip, or a quick shree-shree-shree; often flit- 
 ting away from a tree before ascending very high, in order 
 to begin the ascent at the base of another, which, this time, 
 perhaps, will be continued to the top. How well the color 
 of this little bird, a variety of rich browns curiously marked 
 the white underneath being out of sight corresponds 
 
88 THE BROWN CREEPER. 
 
 with the colors of this open winter. Its long, slender bill, 
 much curved, is well adapted to picking insects and their 
 larvae from the crevices of the bark, while the sharp claws 
 and rigid-pointed tail-feathers are a sufficient support to the 
 ascending movements. It is too graceful and dignified ever 
 to hang head-downward like Nuthatches and Titmice. It 
 is also rather shy, frequently keeping the opposite side of the 
 tree on seeing the observer, and then it is necessary to get 
 behind a tree also, and, looking for it some distance higher 
 than the point where it disappeared, one may get a glimpse 
 of it again. Its flight is very nervous and quick. In spring 
 it will be much more numerous, as the greater number of 
 this species passes south in autumn and north in spring, 
 when it has a soft and melodious song. 
 
 It is now well made out that the ordinary nesting-place of 
 this species is behind a loose strip of bark on a dead tree or 
 a stub, from five to fifteen feet from the ground. Composed 
 externally of dried twigs arranged lengthwise between the 
 bare mast-like trunk and the loosened bark, and so assum- 
 ing a crescent form elevated at both ends and depressed 
 in the middle, the interior and bulk of the nest are of shreds 
 of the inner bark of various trees, with, perhaps, some 
 usnea and spider's cocoons, and lined with still finer shreds 
 of bark or with feathers. If the bark is so close to the 
 tree as barely to admit the nest, the external structure of 
 twigs is dispensed with. The tree or stub chosen is gen- 
 erally of the pine or fir, and is nearly denuded of bark. 
 The eggs, generally five or six, averaging .59 X .48, are 
 delicate white, rosy when fresh, finely marked with brown 
 and purplish-brown. They resemble those of the Titmice 
 and Nuthatches. 
 
 This diminutive species, some 5.50 long, is at home alike 
 in Europe and throughout North America. 
 
THE- GREAT HORNED OWL. 89 
 
 THE GREAT HORNED OWL. 
 
 Our four seasons, spring, summer, autumn and winter, are 
 not divided by exact lines. There is no perceptible differ- 
 ence between the last of May and the first of June, nor between 
 the last of August and the first of September; and the melt- 
 ing power of spring is in the air, even in our climate, long 
 before the last of February. The birds do not begin to 
 make their appearance from the south, indeed, until some 
 time in March; yet there is one common resident, which 
 breeds already in February, becoming conscious, perhaps, 
 of the genial influence of the first melting rays of the sun. 
 About the middle of the last-named month a youth brought 
 me a large, living female of the Great Horned Owl (Bubo 
 virgintanus), which had been winged while on the nest; and 
 he had also secured the eggs. The nest was a huge pile of 
 sticks, placed very high in a beech tree; the eggs, two in 
 number, some 2.25 x 2.00, were roundish, smooth, and of a 
 dull but clear white. The nest is said to be found some- 
 times in a hollow tree, or. even in the cleft of a rock, but 
 generally in a tall pine or hemlock, and to be generally 
 " lined with dry leaves and a few feathers," the eggs being 
 sometimes as many as six. Twenty inches or two feet in 
 length, tawny or whitish, variously mottled with brown 
 and black; with a large, white patch on the throat, large 
 ear- tufts and bright-yellow irides; his is a large, homely 
 form, patched and spotted with the plainest of colors, and 
 having a face like that of a lynx rather than of a bird. Nor are 
 his habits any more agreeable than his personal appearance. 
 Most formidable as to bill and claws, he is a sly, destructive 
 bird of prey, even to the devastation of the poultry-yard. 
 Wilson tells the following amusing anecdote about him: 
 "A very large one, wing broken, * * * was kept 
 about the house for several days, and at length disappeared, 
 
90 THE GREA T HORNED WL. 
 
 no one knew how. Almost every day after this hens and 
 chickens also disappeared, one by one, in an unaccountable 
 manner, till, in eight or ten days, very few were left remain- 
 ing. The fox, the minx, and weasel were alternately the 
 reputed authors of this mischief, until one morning, the 
 old lady herself, rising before day to bake, in passing 
 towards the oven, surprised her late prisoner, the Owl, 
 regaling himself on the body of a newly-killed hen! The 
 thief instantly made for his hole under the house, from 
 whence the enraged matron soon dislodged him with the 
 brush-handle, and without mercy dispatched him. In this 
 snug retreat were found the greater part of the feathers, 
 and many large fragments of her whole family of chickens." 
 
 In confinement the Great Horned Owl is simply horrible. 
 He will squint and scowl at one in the most ominous man- 
 ner; and again turning his eyes into very balls of fire, will 
 snap at one like a cross dog, hiss like an angry cat, and 
 strike his claws at one with the most murderous force. Did 
 I not once see a large dog rush around the house in perfect 
 desperation, in the attempt to disengage the claws of this 
 bird from both sides of his head? 
 
 If reared from the nest, however, he may become quite 
 docile and friendly. Mr. Bruce, of Brockport, has one such, 
 which, on being greeted with a bow by his master, will bow 
 and blink most obsequiously in return, and will even reach 
 out his foot to shake hands. One now in the large museum 
 at Drummondville, Ontario, opposite Niagara Falls, will 
 boo-hoo and bawl, after the most hideous manner of his wonted 
 midnight carnivals in the forest, in answer to the conver- 
 sation and questions of his keeper. 
 
 Concerning the courtship of this bird, Audubon says: 
 " The curious evolutions of the male in the air, or his 
 motions when he has alighted near his beloved, it is impos- 
 
THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 91 
 
 sible to describe. His bowings and the snappings of his bill 
 are extremely ludicrous; and no sooner is the female assured 
 that the attentions paid her by the beau are the result of a 
 sincere affection than she joins in the motions of her future 
 mate." 
 
 How Of How Of Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! These, with many 
 other screaming and choking sounds to one who has heard 
 them, and has both a good memory and a good imagination, 
 may be especially significant. But of all the sounds with 
 which this bird makes night hideous, no one has heard any 
 to the greatest advantage, unless, passing through some dis- 
 mal forest in the full blackness of night, he has heard the 
 alarm sounded suddenly in the tree-tops above him. 
 
 No one need fail of the acquaintance of the Great Horned 
 Owl, for he is abundant, and the whole continent is his 
 habitat. 
 
 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 
 
 It is the last of February. The ground is frozen hard; a 
 light fall of snow during the previous night has but covered 
 the earth, and the sun has started on his career through the 
 heavens without a cloud to obscure his pathway. Gun in 
 hand, I have entered the nearest woods, and am crossing the 
 course of a run, smoothly frozen over, when I break through 
 the shell-ice, and from the dry region beneath the Gray 
 Rabbit (Lepus sylvaticus) springs out through the opening at 
 my feet, and squats on a log only a few feet from me. I 
 attempt to fire, but the gun will not go off. I spoil several 
 caps, and go home to see what the matter is, well knowing 
 that I can track my game in the new snow for some time to 
 come. I am chagrined at the loss of the Rabbit, but am 
 diverted by the flight of a Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo borealis], 
 which, high in air, seems to be enjoying this delightful 
 morning. 
 
92 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 
 
 How much there is in the flight of a bird! Full well has 
 the Duke of Argyll seized upon it as an unmistakable evi- 
 dence of design in nature. From the fish darting through 
 the pathless waters, or the serpent gliding without legs or 
 feet along the ground, or the frog leaping with surprising 
 elasticity, or the stately stepping of the steed, up through 
 all the various styles and methods of animal locomotion, to 
 the eagle which soars above the clouds, the flight of birds 
 is by far the most interesting and wonderful. How that 
 Hawk floats like something ethereal in the atmosphere! His 
 lungs affording communication with a system of large cavi- 
 ties throughout the body, the bones and muscles, even, and 
 the spaces between the body and the skin being pervaded 
 by the ramifications of air-cells, every respiration literally 
 fills him; and this inhaled air being rarefied by the heat of 
 his body, not to speak of the innumerable interspaces of 
 the light plumage, all pervaded by the external air, he is 
 almost as light as the clouds themselves. If the reader has 
 ever climbed a mountain, and known the intoxication of 
 delightful sensations produced by a rarefied atmosphere, he 
 may form some conception of what must be the pleasurable 
 sensations of this soaring creature. 
 
 As to the act of flight itself, the upper side of the wing 
 being convex, and the wing somewhat drawn together, the 
 upward stroke in flight meets but little resistance, while the 
 under side, which is concave, incloses the atmosphere in the 
 downward stroke of the fully-extended wing, and so secures 
 the full force of its elasticity. This, however, simply 
 enables the bird to rise. What carries it forward ? The air, 
 escaping behind the long, elastic pinions, drives it on, some- 
 what as the wind, escaping behind the sail, propels the boat. 
 The sailing of the bird, with steady, motionless wings, is 
 accomplished by a nice adjustment of the wing to the 
 
THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 93 
 
 breeze, precisely like the trimming of a sail. But to hover 
 is the most wonderful feat of the bird to make rapid 
 strokes with the wings, and yet remain at the same point in 
 the air. Who has not seen the King-fisher, or the Spar- 
 row Hawk hover ? or the Humming-bird, as it poises itself 
 in front of the flower, to capture the insects housed in its 
 beautiful chambers, or to sip its nectar? This is done by an 
 oblique stroke of the wings. The bird is never in a horizontal 
 position in hovering, but always poised at an angle, thus 
 allowing the air to escape from the wing in such a manner 
 as simply to keep it up. Here is design, indeed, but also 
 something still higher; the thought of flight must have 
 preceded the nice adjusting of the structure and functions 
 of the wing to the aerial laws. But there is no thought 
 without a thinker; hence the flight of the Hawk carries my 
 mind up to the Great Creator. And is this not a great 
 lesson taught in a most pleasing manner? Who could not 
 derive pleasure in beholding such majestic soaring, such 
 grand spiral curves of immense sweep, such sublime eleva- 
 tion, till the bird becomes a mere speck against the ether? I 
 cannot think of any bird short of the Eagle whose flight can 
 equal this in elegance and grandeur. It is the very poetry 
 of motion. What can the bird be thinking of at such a 
 time ? Is it not enjoying that animated existence, the very 
 consciousness of which, in its normal state, is bliss? Great 
 lesson to unsatisfied human nature. 
 
 Here let us quote a few lines from John Burroughs: " The 
 calmness and dignity of this Hawk, when attacked by the 
 Crows or the King-bird, are well worthy of him. He seldom 
 deigns to notice his noisy and furious antagonists, but 
 deliberately wheels about in that aerial spiral, and mounts 
 and mounts till his pursuers grow dizzy and return to the 
 earth again. It is quite original, this mode of getting rid of 
 
94 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 
 
 an unworthy opponent, rising to heights where the braggart 
 is dazed and bewildered and loses his reckoning! I am not 
 sure but it is worthy of imitation." 
 
 The tube of my shot-gun cleared, I return early in the 
 afternoon in search of the Gray Rabbit. I have no difficulty 
 in tracing his track in the fresh snow, but what a zigzag 
 course he has taken! I seem -to have traveled miles, and 
 yet am only a few rods from the place of starting. Alas! 
 poor Rabbit! I have reached the end of his career, and find 
 simply a great spot of blood on the snow, with bunches of 
 hair and a few bones. While I am trying to conjecture the 
 author of this tragedy, I look up to the top of a tall tree 
 quite near and spy a Red-tailed Hawk motionless as a 
 statue. He is probably the one I saw soaring so majesti- 
 cally a few hours ago, and is now resting in favor of diges- 
 tion, after gorging himself with the missing Rabbit, Some- 
 what annoyed at the extent of the meal, but more over the 
 loss of my game, I take aim and bring him to the ground. 
 He must lose his life in penalty of gluttony. Ordinarily, 
 he would not have allowed the hunter to come near enough 
 to reach him with a shot-gun. He is only wounded, how- 
 ever, and rearing himself on claws and tail, assumes a most 
 formidable attitude of defense. With superciliary ridges 
 projecting far over his eyes, which gleam with vengeance, 
 with mouth wide open and crest erect, what a savage physi- 
 ognomy he presents! And in what a threatening manner 
 he raises his powerful wings! ' Hands off!" is the language 
 of his whole expression, as bill, wings and claws are in equal 
 readiness for blows and wounds. I extend to him the 
 muzzle of the gun, which he grasps so firmly with both 
 talons that I carry him home before he relinquishes his 
 hold. Nailing slats across a large box, I attempt to keep 
 my bird in confinement, placing food before him regularly. 
 
THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 95 
 
 and showing him every possible attention; but, like a genuine 
 savage, he will neither eat nor show any sign of grief or 
 submission. And yet I must admire him, for he finally di< 
 without any yielding of spirit, without any disposition 
 whatever to become a slave. 
 
 The Hawks, as a group belonging to the birds of prey, 
 are placed between the Owls and the Vultures. The Hawks 
 again, according to their structure, are naturally arranged into 
 Harriers, Falcons, True-hawks, Buzzards and Fish-hawks. 
 The Red-tailed Hawk, often called the Hen Hawk, is a 
 Buzzard, and, like the rest of the Buzzards, is so nearly 
 related to the Eagle as to afford very little structural dif- 
 ference. In dignity of habit this Hawk, as well as some 
 others, stands above the Eagle. The latter is often a notori- 
 ous thief, wresting the hard-earned prey from other birds, 
 or even condescending to the most putrid carrion, while the 
 Hawks in general capture their own prey. The fare of the 
 Red-tailed Hawk is quite in keeping with his dignified 
 bearing, consisting generally of hares, squirrels, birds, barn- 
 yard fowl, frogs, or a fancy snake. In search of the latter, 
 or perhaps even of mice, you may sometimes see him scour- 
 ing the meadows somewhat in the manner of the Marsh 
 Hawk. Generally, however, with a keen-sightedness which 
 is perfectly marvelous, he descries his prey from the 
 enormous height of his spiral sailing, sometimes dropping 
 almost meteor-like, and then suddenly checking himself, he 
 seizes his quarry unawares; or he alights on it from some 
 perch near by, whence he has been reconnoitering an im- 
 mense reach of territory. On the whole, if it were not for 
 his depredations on the poultry-yard, we should think more 
 of him than of any other bird of prey. The natural adap- 
 tation of this class of birds to a life of cruelty makes them 
 repulsive to the tenderer feelings, unless, indeed, we conceive 
 
96 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 
 
 that the perfection of nature's variety needs a cruel phase, 
 just as the various shades of light and of color need dark- 
 ness for their perfection. 
 
 The Red- tailed Hawk is nearly two feet in length; the 
 color above is a rich dark-brown, the wings and upper tail- 
 coverts marked and barred with dusky and white; the tail is 
 generally bright chestnut-red, sometimes margined with 
 white, always sub-margined with black reddish-gray be- 
 neath; the under parts generally white, with a zone of 
 brown markings across the breast. The cere, legs and feet 
 are bright-yellow. This may be regarded as the ordinary 
 marking of the mature bird. It varies greatly, however, 
 with age. The male is several inches shorter than the 
 female. 
 
 In Western New York, the Red-tailed Hawk lays its eggs 
 in March or April. The eggs, three in number, of a nest 
 taken the 27th of March, are now before me. One of my 
 parishioners discovered it in a large beech tree, only a few 
 rods from his sugar-camp, where he was busy every day 
 gathering and boiling sap, the birds not seeming in the least 
 disturbed by the business. The nest, equal in bulk to a 
 bushel-basket, composed of sticks rudely piled, lined with 
 fine strips of the inner bark of ash rails in a slashing near 
 by, was in the fork of a large limb, about fifteen feet from 
 the trunk, and about a hundred and twenty feet from the 
 ground. A truly perilous undertaking was this ascent, and 
 yet a young friend kindly volunteered his services, saying, 
 with a very suggestive look: " If I fall and break my bones, 
 you must pay the doctor's bill; if I kill myself, you must 
 pay my funeral expenses." The eggs, about 2.25 long by 
 rather less than 1.90 broad, are roundish, one end a little 
 smaller than the other, greenish-white, two dimly scratched 
 and spotted with a purplish-brown, while all are more or 
 
THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 97 
 
 less sparingly marked with a muddy-brown, the latter color- 
 ing, in the case of the otherwise clear egg, seeming very 
 like slight smirchings of dirt. On the whole, they are rather 
 pretty. Another nest, taken a few days later, contained two 
 eggs not quite so round, and having the dark-brown markings 
 heavier and more numerous. The nest was similarly placed. 
 In the latter part of March, of 1874, a nest was found in the 
 top of a tall elm tree in the woods near Knowlesville. Two 
 young men undertook to capture the Hawk. The one fired 
 at the nest, and, holding his piece rather carelessly, found it 
 sticking in the mud behind him; the other succeeded in 
 taking the female bird on the wing as she left her eyrie. 
 The male now sat on the eggs for a time, but was too 
 wary to allow an approach within gun-shot, and left after a 
 few days. In all of the above cases the birds seem to have 
 raised their young in the same locality for a series of years. 
 
 The note of the Red-tailed Hawk, most commonly heard, 
 as he sails high in the air, in the bright days of summer, and 
 expressed, perhaps, by the syllables Kshee-o, Kshee-o, well 
 drawn out, is rather harsh and squealing, but when uttered 
 while the female cuts her grand circles above the nest, as it 
 is being disturbed, it is even pathetic. 
 
 This bird may be found in Western New York throughout 
 the yeaV; and from the last of February or the first of 
 March till late in autumn, it is our most common Hawk. 
 Its habitat is all North America, and even Mexico and 
 some of the West India Islands. 
 
 Similar in form to the above, but a little larger, and dis- 
 tinguishable by the "tarsus feathered in front for more 
 than half its length," and by the four outer quills " incised 
 on the inner webs," is that rare southern species Harlan's 
 Hawk (Bueto harlani). It is, however, a little larger, and 
 appears darker. " General colors throughout, dark, sooty - 
 7 
 
98 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 
 
 brown, with the wings, excepting tips of primaries, finely 
 but irregularly barred with ashy-brown and whitish. The 
 tail is mottled with ashy-brown, which becomes decidedly 
 rufous next to the shaft of the subterminal portion of the 
 feathers. Below, the feathers of the flanks and under the 
 tail coverts are obscurely banded with ashy-brown. The 
 basal two-thirds of the feathers on head, neck, all around, 
 and breast to middle of body, are pure white." (Maynard). 
 
 This fine bird was first found in Louisiana by Audubon. 
 As none were found for many years afterward, its validity 
 as a species was doubted. More recently some half-dozen 
 specimens have been found, some as far north as Pennsyl- 
 vania, but more of them in Texas. It is now regarded as 
 a well-defined species. 
 
 The Red-shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus] male, some 
 19.00 long; female, 22.00 is nearly as long as the former 
 species to which it is very closely related, but it is not nearly 
 as heavy. Reddish-brown above the feathers, dark-centered, 
 lighter shade of the same below, with narrow streaks of 
 darker and bars of white, the blackish tail noticeably banded 
 with white, shoulder of the wing orange-brown. Young, 
 plain brown above, white below, dark-streaked. This species 
 is every way similar in habit to the Red-tail. Very abund- 
 ant along the Atlantic Coast and in the Atlantic States 
 generally, it becomes rare already in the Maritime prov- 
 inces, and is not common to the westward. It is either rare 
 or overlooked in Western New York. 
 
 Swainson's Hawk (Buteo swainsoni), a northwestern species, 
 breeding rarely in Illinois, and straggling to Montreal and 
 Massachusetts, must be noticed here. The male, some 19.50 
 long, and 48.00 in extent, is dark-brown above, lighter on 
 head, darker on wings, and ashy on tail, the feathers, 
 especially on neck, more or less edged with reddish. Wings 
 
THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 99 
 
 and tail crossed with wary bars of dusky, the latter tipped 
 with whitish. Concealed patch on back of head, white; 
 sides white, barred with reddish and dark-brown; white 
 beneath, tinged below the throat with reddish-yellow, the 
 breast barred with reddish-brown; under wing coverts 
 tipped with black. There is also a darker form. The 
 female, some 20.10 long and 48.75 in extent, is similarly 
 marked, but much darker. This species sometimes builds 
 its nest in shrubbery. 
 
 The Broad-winged Hawk (Buteo pennsylvanicus ) is a com- 
 mon eastern species. The male, some 15.25 long and 35.00 
 in extent, is brown above, the feathers edged with reddish; 
 head and neck streaked with white; tail with a broad, red- 
 dish-gray band a little more than an inch from the tip, a 
 narrow band of the same nearer the base, and tipped with 
 same; under parts white, or buffy-white, broadly cross- 
 barred and variously marked with light-brown. Female, an 
 inch or so longer, and similarly marked. This fine little 
 Hawk is generally distributed throughout the Eastern 
 States in summer, and winters to the south. Its food is 
 mostly the smaller birds and quadrupeds, which it captures 
 for the most part among the bushes or on the ground. Like 
 the rest of the Buteos, it is quite given to sailing in flight, 
 but not in such grand, sweeping curves as those of its larger 
 congeners. It is, perhaps, one of the most unwary of all 
 our Hawks, and, with a little caution, may be approached 
 quite closely. It nests in trees, constructing quite a bulky 
 nest of sticks and twigs externally, and lined with leaves 
 and shreds of bark. Generally an evergreen tree is pre- 
 ferred. The eggs, three or four, some 2.10 x 1.65 elliptical 
 or roundish, are of a dirty white color, blurred or blotched 
 with reddish-brown. Sometimes they are almost white. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 VOICES OF SPRING. 
 
 IN the Middle States the entire month of March is a tem- 
 pestuous conflict between the icy cold of winter and 
 the power of a vernal sun. Yet even the first week of this 
 month may have its days of genial warmth, when the earth, 
 reeking from the relenting frost, woos the coming spring. 
 Such is this third day of March, when lo! a voice salutes me, 
 which is the very soul of tenderness. .1 can scarcely tell 
 whether sadness or joy the more prevails in its soft warb- 
 lings, so strictly is it in harmony with these unsettled days. 
 It is the voice of the Bluebird (Sialia sialis). Appearing 
 here the last week in February or the first week in March, 
 the "color" of the sky "on his back" and the "hue" of the 
 earth "on his breast," he may well inspire hope and courage 
 in every heart. Who does not welcome the Bluebird ? 
 Like the sweet-scented trailing arbutus, which they called 
 the May-flower, the arrival of the Bluebird cheered the 
 fainting spirits of the first settlers of Massachusetts after a 
 long and dreadful winter; and, associating him in some way 
 with the Robin-redbreast of Europe, they called him the 
 Blue Robin. Some 6.50-7.00 long, the upper parts of the 
 male are a beautiful, bright, ultra-marine blue ; throat, 
 breast and sides chestnut-red ; belly white. The female is 
 similar, but more or less tinged with dull gray above. The 
 young resemble the old, but, with a light fringed plumage 
 above, are truly beautiful. 
 
. THE BLUEBIRD. 101 
 
 All through March, but especially through April, the 
 bright colors and soft, clear warble of the Bluebird are 
 inseparably associated with our landscape. The females, 
 arriving some time after the males, about the middle of 
 April, there is a modest courtship, resulting in pairing and 
 immediate preparation for nesting. As the female first 
 appears and alights on the fence, the males may appear one 
 on each side of her, each vying with the other in attractive 
 demonstrations. They raise their wings with a graceful, 
 trembling motion, warble most significantly, and sidle 
 towards her. Perchance she disdains them both, and as she 
 flies away they both pursue her. A spirited contest between 
 the males may now occur, or the female accepting the over- 
 tures of the one, the other will quietly retire. The mating 
 over, the warbling grows more cheerful. Boxes, deserted 
 Woodpeckers' holes, and natural cavities in posts, stubs, 
 and especially about the trees of the orchard, or even an 
 opening in the cornice of the house, are all explored, the 
 female constantly leading, and the male attending with a 
 great deal of gallant ceremony and music. Cheerily, cheerily, 
 is his constant theme, with more or less variation, as the 
 quiet and industrious housewife lugs in the various soft 
 materials mostly dried grasses for bedding the nest. 
 The eggs, from four to six, and about the size of those of a 
 Bay-winged Sparrow, some .85 x -62, are of a clear pale- 
 blue. As soon as the young are able to fly, the male takes 
 them in charge, and the female starts a second brood, and 
 sometimes in like manner a third. During all this time 
 their destruction of insects, which constitute their chief 
 diet, is immense. 
 
 This season I had a good opportunity of watching the 
 incubation of a nest made in the mortise of an old fancy 
 post, the remains of a former fence in a front yard, the mor- 
 
102 THE ROBIN. 
 
 tise having been enlarged by decay. The nest was neatly 
 made of dried grasses, and the five eggs were real gems. 
 Incubation lasted about ten days. Another nest was made 
 in the tool-box of a reaper, which had been left in the 
 field from Saturday till Thursday, the lid of the box having 
 been kept open by the handle of a wrench. The nest had 
 been built in this short time, and one egg had been laid. 
 
 After incubation is begun the male becomes almost silent, 
 and remains so during the summer. Some time in Novem- 
 ber the family groups leave for the south, having then a 
 single plaintive note, wholly unlike the warble of spring, 
 and quite as well in keeping with the gloom of autumn. 
 The plumage now, too, is more or less mixed with a cold gray, 
 thus making the harmony with the bleakness of nature the 
 more perfect. 
 
 The Bluebird spends the winter in the Southern States, 
 sometimes going even further south; and in its northern 
 migrations goes scarcely beyond New England, in the 
 northern part of which it already becomes uncommon. 
 
 From the eastern foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains west- 
 ward to the Pacific are two closely-allied species called the 
 Western Bluebird and the Rocky Mountain Bluebird, the 
 latter being more common in the mountainous region indi- 
 cated by its name. The former has the throat-blue, and a 
 chestnut spot on the back; the latter, which is of a greenish 
 shade, has the under parts similar to the upper, only lighter, 
 fading into white on the belly. 
 
 THE ROBIN. 
 
 On this same 3d of March, so full of brightness and 
 warmth, I meet the first Robins of the year. I hear their 
 abrupt, vigorous, clear note before I see them. This note, 
 though resembling that of various Thrushes, has a ring all 
 
THE ROBIN. 103 
 
 its own, and is in keeping with the bird itself, which, in 
 every respect is energetic, hardy, plain and blunt. It is 
 particularly his note of a beautiful spring evening, hence it 
 has been designated his "evening call." If those most 
 elegant songsters, the Thrushes, members of his own 
 family, keeping so closely to the thick forests, and scarcely 
 allowing the closest observer to get a glimpse of them while 
 they sing, may remind one of people of refined and reserved 
 habits, and "distant, high-bred ways," then surely the 
 Robin must recall the inartistic manners of the more com- 
 mon people. His is the air of a vigorous, robust pioneer. 
 
 Though sometimes here by the latter part of February, 
 and soon becoming one of the most numerous birds of the 
 season, he gives hardly anything worthy to be called a song 
 till near the first of April. Then his loud, clear warble, if 
 somew r hat monotonous and less expressive of sentiment 
 than that of the Wood-thrush or the Hermit, is a most 
 grateful breaking of the stillness of winter, a mitigation of 
 sharp frosts and chill showers April showers always tune 
 him up a never- failing promise of all the joy and plenty of 
 the year. Then truly he makes "the outgoings of the even- 
 ing and the morning to rejoice." What would an American 
 spring be without the song of the Robin ? 
 
 The ragged and faded appearance of the Robin in mid- 
 summer, after the excessive cares incident to the rearing of 
 two or three families, is but a poor apology for his modest 
 but truly beautiful colors of dark-gray, black and golden- 
 brown, in these days of early spring. Even Mrs. Robin, 
 though not so dark and rich in tints as her consort, is a real 
 model of plain and tasteful elegance. 
 
 The farmer or gardener, notwithstanding certain reminis- 
 cences of destruction of ripe cherries and luscious strawber- 
 ries, cannot but be convinced of the friendship and co-oper- 
 
104 THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 
 
 *r 
 
 ation of the Robin, as he sees him scouring meadows 
 and pastures in search of insects in general. It would be 
 impossible to estimate his labors in keeping in check the 
 Voraciousness of insect-life. 
 
 In this locality Robin's beautiful blue-green eggs, from 
 three to five, may be laid already by the middle of April; 
 the nest being a rough affair of stubble, coarse hay and mud, 
 lined with finer hay, and placed anywhere between the 
 ground and the top of a tree. The young resemble the 
 old, except that the breast is pale and spotted with black 
 and white. The parents are very noisy in defense of their 
 nest or young. 
 
 Already in September the Robins begin to gather, with a 
 great deal of hurry, and bustle, and noise, and, flying to and 
 fro, in preparation for their southward migration, continue 
 their leave-taking in companies till late in the fall. 
 
 On the bright October evenings of last year (1879), when 
 the cloudless sky wore every tint of rose, violet, orange, yellow, 
 and green, all most delicately shaded into each other from 
 horizon to zenith, I used to lie down in the field and watch 
 the Robins constantly passing south, with steady stroke of 
 wing and high in air, sometimes singly, sometimes in pairs, 
 sometimes in small companies. 
 
 Some 9-10 inches long; upper parts generally dark- 
 gray; head and tail blackish; spots around the eye, under 
 the chin and on the tips of the outer tail-feathers, and the 
 vent white; breast and under parts golden-brown. 
 
 This bird is characteristic of all North America, and to the 
 south extends a little beyond. In mild winters it may 
 remain with us in sheltered places. 
 
 THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 
 
 It is the 5th of March, and I am in the woods on a most 
 
THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 
 
 105 
 
 sad errand. A dear friend, and in every way a most noble 
 man, has been instantly killed by a falling tree, and, desir- 
 ous to know every possible particular concerning the event, 
 
 THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 
 
 I am carefully studying the spot. Looking up into the tall 
 tree-tops, whence came the fatal limb, my mind is, if 
 possible, momentarily diverted by the sight of a bird seldom 
 seen in this locality, or in any of the more northern districts, 
 though it is said to be very common south of 35. It is 
 the Red-bellied Woodpecker (Centurus carolinus), the most 
 beautiful of all the smaller species of its tribe in this 
 locality. This is a fine male. Somewhat larger than the 
 Hairy Woodpecker, some 10 long and 17 in extent, he has 
 a broad strip of glossy crimson, extending from the bill 
 
106 THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER: 
 
 over the head and hind neck, the rest of the head, neck 
 and under parts a beautiful light-ash color, with a tinge of 
 red on the belly, whence the common name; the upper 
 parts jet-black, with fine concentric lines and rows of spots 
 of pure white; eyes red. The female differs mainly in the 
 absence of the red on the top of the head, that mark extend- 
 ing only up the back of the neck to the occiput. 
 
 This bird has a hoarse note, resembling chaw, chaw, and 
 has a nest and eggs like those of the rest of the Wood- 
 peckers. It is a common resident throughout the year in 
 Northeastern Ohio, where I have seen its nest about the 
 middle of May. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 THE BLUFF AND THE CAT-TAILS. 
 
 BEFORE studying the matter, it would not occur to one 
 how different the plants and animals are the world over. 
 Each individual has its particular locality or habitat. 
 Sometimes, as in the case of certain species of Humming- 
 birds, that habitat is a single island or mountain; again, as 
 in the case of the Duck Hawk or Osprey, it is, in its various 
 allied forms, nearly or quite cosmopolitical. Generally, 
 however, great mountains and seas or changes of climate 
 bound these habitats. For instance, in Eastern North 
 America we have a certain set of birds, extending from the 
 Atlantic Coast westward to the Rocky Mountains; but from 
 this great mountain system, running north and south the 
 entire length of the continent, to the Pacific Coast, there 
 is found another set, generally more or less allied to ours 
 indeed, but for the most part specifically different. Again, 
 we have certain species peculiar to the northern, and others 
 peculiar to the southern, latitudes ; and between the plants 
 and animals of the several continents the difference is gener- 
 ally very great. What is true of space, in this respect, is still 
 truer of time. In respect to the fauna of the various geological 
 ages, the differentiation is indeed immense. But all these 
 vast varieties of form are built on certain fixed plans of 
 structure. The great classes, orders, and families have 
 their representatives everywhere; and, while these types of 
 
108 THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 
 
 structure have been generally progressive in the order of 
 time, in the lower forms of animal life there are some 
 genera which seem to have stood almost from the first 
 dawn of life to the present time. A careful bound- 
 ing of the localities occupied by the various animals and 
 plants constitutes the science of their geographical distri- 
 bution. 
 
 In respect to the great class of birds, the whole world 
 has its Owls, Hawks, Vultures, Sparrows, Shrikes, Starlings, 
 etc.; but the species differs in different parts of the world. 
 
 THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 
 
 In the most typical sense the Starlings are confined to 
 the Old World; but, by a little broader generalization, 
 many birds of our own country may be included under that 
 
 THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 
 
 head. For instance, on this 7th of March, as I stand just 
 south of a bluff, by the margin of a cat-tail swamp, I see a 
 large flock of the so-called Red-winged Starlings or Black- 
 
THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 109 
 
 birds (Agelceus phoeniceus). They are sometimes here a 
 week earlier, and are always partial to the cat-tails. 
 Indeed, this species is strictly an ornament and appurte- 
 nance of the swamp. The male, somewhat smaller than a 
 Robin, 8 or 9 inches long, is clad in a rich jet-black from 
 tip to toe, except the shoulders of his wings, which are of a 
 bright glossy-scarlet, .with a margin of light orange. He 
 is a strikingly beautiful object on this gray and naked 
 landscape of the early spring. How spirited, too, he seems, 
 as he steps and flits about, jerking his tail, uttering his 
 familiar chuck, chuck, chuck, and every now and then adding 
 his distinctive " o-kal-ree-e-e-e-e-ee" or " lo-kal-o-ree-e-e-e-e-ee" 
 Until the arrival of the female, which may not occur for 
 several weeks, he will appear exceedingly uneasy. About 
 this time he will take some conspicuous position in 
 the leafless trees or bushes, and spreading his wings and 
 tail by a jerking motion, and waltzing back and forth, and 
 bowing most gracefully, his wonted song becomes more 
 liquid and clear, interspersed with an occasional rattling 
 sound, ending in a loud, clear whistle. In color, the female 
 is very unlike her mate. Of a rich dark-brown, each feather 
 is margined with light-brown or brownish-white, the 
 margins being broadest and lightest on the breast and 
 underneath, thus making those parts appear noticeably 
 lighter. The young male is similar to the female, except 
 that the margin of the dark-brown feathers are ruddy, and 
 the shoulders of the wings of a beautiful red, mixed with 
 black. The young female is somewhat lighter than the 
 mother. In the autumn, when the black plumage of the 
 mature males is more or less fringed with light-brown, the 
 whole family make a truly beautiful group. 
 
 Early in May the nest is built somewhere in or about a 
 swamp, generally near the ground, but sometimes in a bush 
 
110 THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 
 
 or even in a tree; in my locality, for the most part, among 
 the cat-tails. I found the nests very abundant on St. 
 Clair Flats, built in the sedges over the water. It is a basket- 
 like structure, composed outwardly of coarse, flexible mate- 
 rials commonly the dried leaves of the cat- tails and sedges 
 of the previous year fastened near the base of the old 
 stalks still standing, and lined with fine dried grasses, or 
 occasionally with horse-hair. It belongs to the style of 
 bird-structures called "basket-nests." In this little swamp I 
 have sometimes found a nest every few rods, or even every 
 few feet. Then it is interesting to note the difference 
 between the several sets of eggs. Frequently more than an 
 inch long, they are often much less; now larger and quite 
 pointed, and now roundish; the delicate tinge of green 
 which makes the ground-color is darker or lighter; the 
 markings, in the form of pen-dashes, dots and blotches, 
 thick and heavy, or light and few, scattered over the entire 
 surface, in a wreath near the middle, or in a bunch at the 
 large end. These odd markings appear like the written 
 symbols of some strange language. The Red-wings gener- 
 ally breed more or less in communities. As with the rest 
 of the Icteridae family, the male is not accustomed to take 
 the nest, but is most assiduously attentive to the female 
 during incubation. Sometimes two broods are raised in a 
 season in this locality, the eggs of the first being laid in 
 May and those of the second in July. 
 
 In spring and early summer the destruction of insect-life by 
 the Red-winged Blackbirds is incalculable. Of this every far- 
 mer must be convinced, as he observes the flocks which search 
 the pastures and plowed grounds. The breeding season over, 
 they gather in immense noisy flocks, and are exceedingly de- 
 structive to corn and other grains; but, probably, in nowise 
 counteract the good they do in the earlier part of the year. 
 
THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. \\\ 
 
 On the winter history of this bird in the Southern States, 
 Wilson has a very fine paragraph: " The Red-winged Star- 
 lings, though generally migratory in the states north of 
 Maryland, are found during winter in immense, flocks some- 
 times associated with the Purple Grakles, and often , by 
 themselves, along the whole lower parts of Virginia, both 
 Carolinas, Georgia and Louisiana, particularly near the sea- 
 coast, and in the vicinity of large rice and corn fields. In 
 the months of January and February, while passing through 
 the former of these countries, I was frequently entertained 
 with the aerial evolutions of these great bodies of Starlings. 
 Sometimes they appeared driving about like an enormous 
 black cloud carried before the wind, varying its shape every 
 moment; sometimes suddenly rising from the fields around 
 me with a noise like thunder; while the glittering of innu- 
 merable wings of the brightest vermilion amid the black 
 cloud they formed produced on these occasions a very 
 striking and splendid effect. Then, descending like a tor- 
 rent, and covering the branches of some detached grove, or 
 clump of trees, the whole congregated multitude commenced 
 one general concert or chorus, that I have plainly distin- 
 guished at the distance of more than two miles, and, when 
 listened to at the intermediate space of about a quarter of a 
 mile, with a slight breeze of wind to swell and soften the 
 flow of its cadences, was to me grand, and even sublime. 
 The whole season of winter that, with most birds, is passed 
 in struggling to sustain life in silent melancholy, is, with the 
 Red-wings, one continued carnival. The profuse gleanings 
 of the old rice, corn, and buckwheat fields supply them with 
 abundant food, at once ready and nutritious; and the inter- 
 mediate time is spent either in aerial maneuvers or in 
 grand vocal performances, as if solicitous to supply the 
 absence of all the tuneful summer tribes, and to cheer the 
 
112 THE CROW BLACKBIRD. 
 
 dejected face of nature with their whole combined powers 
 of harmony." 
 
 Habitat: "The typical form throughout temperate North 
 America, and south to Central America. Breeds in suitable 
 places from Texas to the Saskatchawan, and along the whole 
 Atlantic Coast. Winters from about 35 southward." 
 (Coues). 
 
 The Yellow-headed Blackbird is a western species, some- 
 times straggling eastward even to New England. 
 
 THE CROW BLACKBIRD. 
 
 The bluff above referred to is well clad with sumacs, 
 dogwoods, elders, etc. Here, on this same 7th of March, 
 but more particularly along the creek a few rods away, are 
 small flocks of the Purple Grakle, or Crow Blackbird (Quisca- 
 luspurpureus). They fly slowly from one bush to another, from 
 the bluff to the bushes along the creek, and then back to the 
 bluff again, their tails, folded downward in the middle, being 
 very conspicuous, and their constant chuck, chuck very like 
 that of the Red-wing, only in a little hoarser tone and on a 
 lower key. Like the latter, the former are quite partial to 
 swamps and streams, but are not quite so confined to them, 
 for they are frequently common about country door-yards 
 and village lots, especially such as abound in evergreens. 
 They are often abundant in cemeteries which are well orna- 
 mented with coniferae. If cat-tails are to be associated 
 with the Red-wings, evergreens are to be quite as much 
 associated with the Crow Blackbirds. Often, indeed, they 
 affect the shadowy recesses of the thickly-branched Lom- 
 bardy poplars. As the plowman turns his furrow this bird 
 forms a part of the newly-made landscape. Stepping along 
 the fresh, brown ridges with a peculiar gracefulness, his 
 brilliant hues, with a bright, metallic lustre, cannot fail to 
 
THE CROW BLACKBIRD. 113 
 
 delight the eye. Blue, emerald, purple, and bronze, all 
 gleam and flash interchangeably in the sunshine. How 
 quick are those light-golden eyes to detect grubs, beetles, 
 chrysalids and worms! The male being about 12 inches or 
 more in length, the female is a good deal smaller, and for 
 the most part of a plain black, being wholly without the 
 lustre and changeableness of the male. In early spring 
 they often gather in quite large flocks, chattering and 
 whistling in a manner thoroughly noisy, if not somewhat 
 musical. 
 
 Their nest made early in May, if not already in April, 
 and a rather bulky structure of sticks and coarse hay, more 
 particularly the latter, often cemented with mud, lined with 
 fine hay and some horse-hair is placed either low or high in 
 a tree, an evergreen or Lombardy poplar being preferred; 
 and if the tree is large, it may contain a number of nests. 
 Wilson says: "A singular attachment frequently takes place 
 between this bird and the Fish Hawk. The nest of this 
 latter is of very large dimensions, often from three to four 
 feet in breadth, and from four to five feet high; composed, 
 externally, of large sticks, or fagots, among the interstices 
 of which sometimes three or four pairs of Crow Blackbirds 
 will construct their nests, while the Hawk is sitting or 
 hatching above. Here each pursues the duties of incubation 
 and of rearing its young; living in the greatest harmony, 
 and mutually watching and protecting each other's property 
 from depredators." In the south Audubon says the nests of 
 these Blackbirds are generally placed in holes of trees 
 often in a deserted Woodpecker's nest. The same manner 
 of nesting has recently been reported from some parts of 
 the north. 
 
 The eggs of the Crow Blackbird, some 1.20 X .82, and 
 four or five in number, are generally greenish, sometimes 
 8 
 
114 THE CROW BLACKBIRD. 
 
 brownish, or of a dirty white, specked, spotted, scratched and 
 blotched, sometimes thickly, sometimes sparingly, with light 
 brown, or black. It seldom raises more than one brood 
 here. 
 
 As to this bird's destructiveness in the corn-field, every 
 one has heard and seen enough. Hence the merciless 
 slaughter which he meets, and the dangling of his dead 
 body in terrorem. But if we are not to " muzzle the ox that 
 treadeth out the corn," let us take heed, lest we grudge the 
 Blackbird his corn unfairly. Some of the late ornithologists, 
 however, affirm that this bird, a near relative to the Crow in 
 habit as well as in appearance, is given to sucking other 
 birds' eggs and eating their young. If this be generally 
 proven against him he will smell more gunpowder than ever 
 before. 
 
 The Crow Blackbirds find their winter residence in the 
 Southern States. " Here," according to Wilson, " numerous 
 bodies, collecting together from all quarters of the interior 
 and northern districts, and darkening the air with their 
 numbers, sometimes form one congregated multitude of 
 many hundred thousands. A few miles from the banks of 
 the Roanoke, on the 20th of January, I met with one of 
 those prodigious armies of Grakles. They rose from the 
 surrounding fields with a noise like thunder, and, descend- 
 ing on the length of road before me, covered it and the 
 fences completely with black; and when they again rose, 
 and, after a few evolutions, descended on the skirts of the 
 high-timbered woods, at that time destitute of leaves, they 
 produced a most singular and striking effect; the whole 
 trees for a considerable extent, from the top to the lowest 
 branches, seemed as if hung in mourning; their notes and 
 screaming the meanwhile resembling the distant sound of a 
 great cataract, but in more musical cadence, swelling and 
 
THE CEDAR BIRD. 115 
 
 dying away on the ear, according to the fluctuations of the 
 breeze." 
 
 Habitat: Eastern North America, north to Labrador, 
 west to the Rocky Mountains, breeding throughout its 
 range. I saw none in Manitoulin Island and vicinity 
 
 As to the so-called Bronzed Grakle (Quiscalus purpureus 
 teneus), now differentiated by some, and supposed to breed 
 a little further north than the last described, I have had no 
 opportunity of discriminating. If, indeed, it be different 
 from the Common Crow Blackbird, it must be very similar. 
 
 The Boat-tailed Grakle of the south (Quiscalus major) is 
 scarcely more than the former on a larger pattern. About 
 16.00 long, it is about one-fourth larger, and its habits 
 are very similar. The flight is slow, straightforward, the 
 heavy boat-shaped tail seeming to tip the bird up in front. 
 It is noisy, and partial to the vicinity of water, often wading 
 for its molluscous diet. Its nests, which are in community 
 after the manner of its congener here and also its corvine 
 relations in the old world, is sometimes placed in a bush or 
 tree, but commonly in the tall saw-grass of the southern 
 marshes. The structure is large and coarse, is tied to the 
 grass-stems about four feet from the ground, and generally 
 contains three eggs, similar to those of the Crow Black- 
 bird, but larger about 1.27 X -85. It winters in the 
 extreme Southern States, and reaches regularly the Carolinas 
 in summer. 
 
 THE CEDAR BIRD. 
 
 On the top of the bluff stands the first row of trees of a 
 large orchard. On one of these alights a flock of birds, 
 sometimes found here in small numbers even in winter, but 
 always appearing in flocks very early in spring. There are 
 some forty of them, and they move with the regularity of 
 a perfectly disciplined army, flying as compactly as pos- 
 
116 THE CEDAR BIRD. 
 
 sible, and all having precisely the same motion, and alight- 
 ing so similarly that the attitude of one is the attitude of 
 the whole flock. Few things in the movement of bird-life 
 are more interesting than this perfect uniformity of motion 
 of a group of Cedar Birds (Ampelis ccdrorum), as if one life 
 directed them all. How spirited and graceful they are! Some 
 six or seven inches long, slender, beautifully crested, the plum- 
 age remarkably blended and glossy; in color, a rich brown, 
 becoming reddish on the breast and about the head; chin, 
 forehead, and band across the eyes to occiput, black, partly 
 margined with a line of white; belly, yellow; under tail 
 coverts, white; wings, rump and tail, bluish-drab; darker 
 toward the end of the tail, which is margined with bright 
 sulphur-yellow; secondaries, generally tipped with flattened 
 appendages, the color of bright-red sealing-wax. The 
 female is similar to the male, and the young differ but little. 
 Occasionally an old male is found with red, wax-like tips 
 on the tail feathers, or even on some of the feathers of the 
 crest. 
 
 As I watch the flock in the bright, warm sunshine they 
 become more careless in attitude and motion, and presently 
 become fly-catchers, making little circuits after their prey, 
 and seeming rather drowsy, for them. This fly-catching is 
 quite indicative of their habit in part; for despite their 
 frugivorous propensities, they destroy no small number of 
 insects at certain seasons of the year, especially the larvae 
 of the Canker Worm. 
 
 Watch these same Cedar Birds in some secluded dell 
 affording a rocky stream watch them in the delicious 
 quiet and ruddy glow of the evening. How gracefully 
 they alight on the larger rocks rising above the surface of 
 the water; and, standing almost straight, with crests erect, 
 how noiselessly they describe their elegant circles in the 
 
THE CEDAR BIRD. 117 
 
 midst of clouds of gnats and midges. You hear no snap- 
 ping of the bill, as in the case of Fly-catchers similarly 
 engaged, but each little detour signifies the destruction of 
 one or more of these tiny insects. 
 
 This imitation of the Fly-catchers the farmer will scarcely 
 admit, as he recalls the more destructive habits of this bird, 
 how he appears singly, or in large numbers, on the sweet 
 cherry-tree of early summer, pilfers blackberries and rasp- 
 berries, strips the rich, ornamental clusters from the mountain 
 ash; in short, fills himself with fruit to the very throat, even 
 dropping and dying, in some cases, of sheer gluttony all 
 this without the least apology for a song nothing in the 
 way of a note but a sly tseep, tseep, scarcely loud enough to 
 be a warning to the ordinary ear nothing, in short, to 
 recommend him but his graceful carriage and fine clothes, 
 unless, indeed, the ornithologist can vindicate him as a 
 "fly-catcher" and "worm-eater," and so secure a balance 
 of sentiment in his favor. This vindication we believe to be 
 possible. At any rate, as a beautiful ornament in nature, 
 he is entitled to some support, especially by those who 
 regard "a thing of beauty a joy forever." I never could 
 justify a certain old gentleman of my acquaintance who 
 shot eighty of these "orchard beauties" from a single 
 sweet cherry-tree in a few hours. I would rather have set 
 out more cherry-trees. 
 
 Strange to say, though this bird is here among the first, 
 and in large flocks, some few even remaining through the 
 winter, it does not ordinarily begin a nest till late in June 
 or in July, perhaps because the favorite fruits on which it 
 feeds its young, after a course of insects in their earliest 
 babyhood, are not sooner available. This nest is generally 
 in a tree in the orchard, and is rather bulky and coarsely 
 built for so trim a bird, being composed outwardly of small 
 
118 THE CEDAR BIRD. 
 
 sticks and coarse grasses; inwardly, of sprigs of larch, fine, 
 dried grasses, or horse-hair, quite a little wool, or vegetable 
 down, being occasionally used, or even a large quantity of 
 fine rootlets. The eggs, 4 or 5, some .82 x .62, are light- 
 green, or dingy white, specked and spotted with dark 
 purple and black. 
 
 I once found a young one, full-grown, held to the nest by 
 a horse-hair, which had grown into the foot. It had the 
 waxen tips on its wings, showing that this peculiarity is not 
 wholly a matter of age. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 ALONG THE CREEK. 
 
 Y\O you know that the Wild Geese are here ?" inquired a 
 
 JL' friend of mine at Oak Orchard Creek, on the even- 
 ing of the 16th of March. "I fired into a large flock in the 
 wheat-field to-day and killed two." 
 
 "Indeed! I am aware that they are quite destructive to 
 the wheat-fields for some four or five weeks in early spring, 
 all along the south of Lake Ontario," I replied. 
 
 The Canada, or Common Wild Goose (Branta canadensis), 
 is the one referred to; and the two specimens, male and 
 female, are now mounted and before me in my study. The 
 male is some 38 inches, and the female some 34 inches in 
 length, thus appearing considerably larger than the com- 
 mon domestic Goose. The general color is a rich, dark- 
 gray, the plumage edged with lighter; bill, head, neck, 
 lower back, tips of wings, tail, and feet, black; patch across 
 the throat and up the sides of the head, and sometimes the 
 upper breast, grayish-white; vent and coverts at the root of 
 the tail, pure white. 
 
 There is not a more characteristic bird in all North 
 America. Moving northward in large, noisy flocks in 
 spring, and southward in a similar manner in autumn, it 
 is the sure herald of the departure of the Ice King, as well 
 as of his return. Who does not know of the Wild Goose ? 
 that it is the most sensitive of all our animated nature to 
 
120 THE CANADA GOOSE, 
 
 the great changes of temperature about to take place; that 
 it is surely an evil omen, in the dubious days of spring, to 
 see it retracing its course southward. The beautiful mili- 
 tary order of the flight of these birds how, under the 
 direction of some accepted leader, they move now in form 
 of a straight line, now in the manner of an angle of varia- 
 ble degrees, every now and then some of them changing 
 positions, that the stronger and fresher may take its turn 
 in clearing the air, while the weaker and more weary take 
 the advantage of the wake must be familiar to all who 
 have at all observed these grand movements. The confused 
 "hanking," "clanging" notes, too, which seem almost to 
 keep time with the beat of wings, must be equally familiar. 
 
 In Western New York, at present, the Canada Goose is 
 simply a migrant, except as it " occasionally nests at large 
 in the United States" (Coues), where in former times its 
 nidification was common. (Audubon.) These birds come in 
 flocks from the south into our lake counties of Western New 
 York soon after the middle of March, and remain with us 
 some 4-6 weeks. During this time they may be seen almost 
 constantly riding on the water near the shores of Lake Ontario. 
 At day-break, and again in the afternoon, they fly inland to 
 feed in wheat-fields on the tender, succulent blades, or in the 
 richer meadows. On leaving the lake they are silent, but fill 
 the air with their clangor on returning. By the utmost 
 vigilance a few are shot; but they generally alight on some 
 eminence where there is a good outlook in every direction, 
 and some wary gander is constantly on the alert. 
 
 The Canada Goose breeds more or less commonly in Lab- 
 rador and to the northward. Mr. James Fortiscue says 
 of their breeding about York Factory, Hudson's Bay: 
 "Hatch everywhere, up in woods and swamps; nests made 
 of sticks and hay, lined with feathers." 
 
THE CANADA GOOSE. 121 
 
 In the extreme Northwestern States it is said to breed in 
 trees. It is now known to breed abundantly in the North- 
 west Territory, especially along the Assinniboin River with 
 its many tributaries. It usually makes its nest on the 
 ground, near some stream or sheet of water, often on 
 secluded islands in larger rivers. One nest found by 
 Audubon " was placed on the stump of a large tree stand- 
 ing in the center of a small pond, about twenty feet high, 
 and contained five eggs." The same author says: "The 
 greatest number of eggs which I have found in the nest of 
 this species was nine, which I think is more by three than 
 these birds usually lay in a wild state." Again: "The 
 eggs measure, on an average, 3.50 X 2.50, are thick- 
 shelled, rather smooth, and of a very dull yellowish- 
 green color. The period of incubation is twenty-eight 
 .days. They never have more than one brood in a season, 
 unless their eggs are removed or broken at an early period. 
 The young follow their parents to the water a day or two 
 after they have issued from .the egg, but generally return to 
 land to repose in the sunshine in the evening, and pass 
 the night there under their mother, who employs all 
 imaginable care to insure their comfort and safety, as does 
 her mate, who never leaves her during incubation for a 
 longer time than is necessary for procuring food, and takes 
 her place at intervals. Both remain with their brood until 
 the following spring. It is during the breeding season that 
 the gander displays his courage and strength to the greatest 
 advantage. I knew one that appeared larger than usual, 
 and of which all the lower parts were of a rich cream-color. 
 It returned three years in succession to a large pond a few 
 miles from the mouth of Green River, in Kentucky, and 
 whenever I visited the nest it seemed to look upon me 
 with utter contempt. It would stand in a stately atti- 
 
122 THE CANADA GOOSE. 
 
 tude until I reached within a few yards of the nest, when, 
 suddenly lowering its head, and shaking it as if it were 
 dislocated from the neck, it would open its wings and launch 
 into the air, flying directly at me. So daring was this fine 
 fellow, that in two instances he struck me a blow with one 
 of his wings on the right arm, which, for an instant, I 
 thought was broken. I observed that immediately after 
 such an effort to defend his nest and mate, he would run 
 swiftly towards them, pass his head and neck several times 
 over and around the female, and again assume his attitude 
 of defiance." 
 
 The same author says: " It is extremely amusing to wit- 
 ness the courtship of the Canada Goose in all its stages; 
 and let me assure you, reader, that although a gander does 
 not strut before his beloved with the pomposity of a 
 Turkey, or the grace of a Dove, his ways are quite as 
 agreeable to the female of his choice. I can imagine before 
 me one who has just accomplished the defeat of another 
 male after a struggle of half an hour or more. He advances 
 gallantly towards the object of his attention, his head 
 scarcely raised an inch from the ground, his bill open to its 
 full stretch, his fleshy tongue elevated, his eyes darting fiery 
 glances, and as he moves he hisses loudly, while the emotion 
 which he experiences causes his quills to shake, and his 
 feathers to rustle. Now he is close to her who, in his eyes, 
 is all loveliness, his neck bending gracefully in all directions, 
 passes all around her, and occasionally touches her body; 
 and as she congratulates him on his victory, and acknowl- 
 edges his affection, they move their necks in a hundred 
 curious ways. At this moment fierce jealousy urges the 
 defeated gander to renew his efforts to obtain his love; he 
 advances apace, his eye glowing with the fire of rage; he 
 shakes his broad wings, ruffles up his whole plumage, and 
 
THE CANADA GOOSE. 123 
 
 as he rushes on the foe, hisses with the intensity of anger. 
 The whole flock seems to stand amazed, and opening up a 
 space, the birds gather round to view the combat. The 
 bold bird, who has been caressing his mate, scarcely deigns 
 to take notice of his foe, but seems to send a scornful glance 
 towards him, He of the mortified feelings, however, raises 
 his body, half opens his sinewy wings, and with a powerful 
 blow, sends forth his defiance. The affront cannot be borne 
 in the presence of so large a company, nor indeed is there 
 much disposition to bear it in any circumstances; the blow 
 is returned with vigor, the aggressor reels for a moment, 
 but he soon recovers, and now the combat rages. Were the 
 weapons more deadly, feats of chivalry would now be per- 
 formed; as it is, thrust and blow succeed each other like the 
 strokes of hammers driven by sturdy forgers. But now, the 
 mated gander has caught hold of his antagonist's head with 
 his bill; no bull-dog could cling faster to his victim; he 
 squeezes him with all the energy of rage, lashes him with 
 his powerful wings, and at length drives him away, spreads 
 out his pinions, runs with joy to his mate, and fills the air 
 with cries of exultation." 
 
 D. H. Bunn, a man well capable of telling what he sees, 
 reports the following incident, as occurring in Madison 
 County, New York, some twenty years ago: During a night 
 of thick fog in early spring, a flock of geese passing over, 
 twenty-five of them struck against a large factory. Lodging 
 near by, he heard the blow, roused his companions, and 
 they went out with lanterns. In a sort of alder-swamp, on 
 that side of the building which the birds had encountered, 
 they found the stunned and disconcerted creatures hanging 
 entangled in the alders, or splashing about the water; and 
 after being well pinched and bitten, and soundly thumped by 
 their powerful wings, the party succeeded in capturing them. 
 
124 THE MALLARD. 
 
 The Canada Goose spends the winter in large flocks, in 
 the middle and more southern portions of our continent. 
 A variety of this same species, called Hutchin's Goose, is 
 sparingly found to the eastward, and is very abundant in the 
 northwest. Mr. Fortiscue thinks there are not less than 
 four closely-allied species of this kind of goose at Hudson's 
 Bay. 
 
 THE MALLARD. 
 
 March 17th, on a bright sunny morning after a light fall of 
 snow, I wandered along Oak Orchard Creek a purling 
 stream some three or four rods in width and found the 
 Mallard (Anas boschas), and the Dusky or Black Duck (Anas 
 obscura)) in considerable numbers. The former a bird of 
 the stream and lake rather than of the sea is found very 
 sparingly in New England and immediately to the north- 
 ward, but plentifully from New York southward, especially 
 in Florida, in winter; and it is abundant in the far north- 
 west in summer. As it moves smoothly and gracefully 
 along the quiet stream, or rises in flight, or more especially 
 as it almost hovers overhead in the presence of danger, it is 
 a truly beautiful object. The rich glossy-green of the neck 
 of the male, his yellow bill and legs, the rich vinous-brown 
 of his breast, and the gray of his under parts, the pure white 
 tail of gracefully-pointed feathers, ornamented by the 
 recurved upper tail coverts of glossy-green or purple, are 
 simply resplendent in the bright morning sun, so intensified 
 by the reflection from the pure sparkling sheet of snow. 
 As he is brought down, so that one can examine the deep 
 black of the lower back, the delicately-penciled gray of his 
 shoulders, scapulars and tertiaries, all set off by his dark 
 wing with its beauty spot of green or violet margined with 
 black and white, one concludes that his brilliancy is scarcely 
 surpassed by anything on our waters. He seems by con- 
 
-THE MALLARD. 125 
 
 trast to be more complete, too, when by the side of his 
 female of plainer beauty her plumage being rich brown 
 margined with lighter, chin and throat whitish, beauty spot 
 nearly as in the male. " Nearly cosmopolitan, and nearly 
 everywhere domesticated," breeding more or less sparingly 
 throughout the United States, and more particularly to the 
 north, the Mallard mates in winter and in early spring; and 
 builds a nest of coarse materials in the marsh, lining it, if 
 far north, with down from its breast so plentifully that the 
 eggs, some eight to a dozen, and of a delicate or sometimes 
 dingy greenish-white, can be covered with the same on 
 leaving them. 
 
 On St. Clair Flats, where I found the Mallard breeding 
 quite commonly, the nest, which might be built in the 
 sedges over the water, but more commonly on a knoll or 
 against a log in the flooded marsh or among the bushes on 
 the highest ridges, never contained much down. If the 
 number of eggs were incomplete, or they were fresh-laid, 
 and therefore the entire nest as yet imperfect, there was no 
 down at all. The elegant green tint is quite peculiar to the 
 egg of this Duck. 
 
 Unlike the Geese, but like other Ducks and the Mergan- 
 sers, as well as some other water-birds, the male now leaves 
 the female to care for her eggs and her young family alone, 
 while he, along with other heartless husbands and fathers of 
 the same kind, spends the remainder of the breeding season 
 in leisurely roaming, unless, indeed, the female lose her nest, 
 and then she goes in search of the male. 
 
 The female meanwhile is most signally faithful to her 
 charge. She will remain on the nest till almost trodden upon, 
 and then often alighting near by, will stretch out her neck, 
 spread her tail, and flap her wings on the water, in a manner 
 equal to the arts of the little Waders when similarly disturbed. 
 
126 THE MALLARD. 
 
 " I have found the Mallard," says Audubon, " breeding on 
 large, prostrate and rotten logs, three feet above the ground, 
 and in the center of a canebrake, nearly a mile distant from 
 any water. Once I found a female leading her young 
 through the woods, and no doubt conducting them towards 
 the Ohio. When I first saw her she had already observed 
 me, and had squatted flat among the grass, with her brood 
 around her. As I moved onwards, she ruffled her feathers, 
 and hissed at me in the manner of a goose, while the little 
 ones scampered off in all directions. I had an excellent 
 dog, well instructed to catch young birds without injuring 
 them, and I ordered him to seek for them. On this the 
 mother took wing, and flew through the woods as if about 
 to fall down at every yard or so. She passed and repassed 
 over the dog, as if watching the success of his search; and 
 as one after another the ducklings were brought to me and 
 struggled in my bird-bag, the distressed parent came to the 
 ground near me, rolled and tumbled about, and so affected 
 me by her despair that I ordered my dog to lie down, 
 while, with a pleasure that can be felt only by those who 
 are parents themselves, I restored to her the innocent brood 
 and walked off. As I turned round to observe her, I really 
 thought I could perceive gratitude expressed in her eye; 
 and a happier moment I never felt while rambling in search 
 of knowledge through the woods." 
 
 The voice of the Mallard, and its manner of feeding by 
 immersing its head and neck, or by tipping perpendicularly 
 half out and half under the water, are so well illustrated by 
 the domestic Duck as to need no explanation here. Suffice 
 it to say, this is one of those members of the animal creation 
 which have ministered incalculably to the comfort and sup- 
 port of man. 
 
THE DUSKY DUCK. 127 
 
 THE DUSKY DUCK. 
 
 Screened by a small hemlock on the bank of the creek, I 
 have a good view of a flock of some dozen Dusky, or Black 
 Ducks, as they fly up the stream. They are very large, and 
 look quite dark, except the underside of the wings, which is 
 white, and which gives a fine effect in flight. How great 
 the rapidity and momentum of that flight is we have but 
 little idea, till the bird, ceasing the rapid strokes of its 
 wings, and bending them downward like the arcs of a circle, 
 prepares to alight. Then that smooth body, with out- 
 stretched head and neck, and wings which cut the air like 
 sabers, like a huge arrow rushes through the air; and it 
 must sail some distance before the force of its momentum is 
 sufficiently spent to allow it to reach the earth in safety. 
 
 A few rods above me these Ducks drop gracefully down, 
 striking the water so easily, and parting it with such a 
 pretty plash, as to impress me with the beauty possible to 
 motion, and with the tranquil happiness of these creatures 
 in their undisturbed haunts; The stream being shallow, 
 they can easily reach their food by plunging their heads, in 
 which act they throw up their feet and hinder parts in a 
 manner quite amusing. They plunge, dart around in a 
 hurry-skurry manner, straighten out their necks and flap 
 their wings, thus seeming to sit almost on their tails on the 
 water; and, finally getting a glimpse of me, they rush out 
 of the water into the air with a splashing that brings me to 
 my feet; and I fire, bringing down a fine pair, which I 
 readily secure as they float down stream by wading in with 
 my long rubber-boots. About two feet long, of a dark 
 brown, the feathers edged with lighter, the beauty spot a 
 rich violet, the male and female about alike, this species 
 cannot easily be mistaken. It is by far the most common 
 Duck in this locality, being really abundant in the migra- 
 
128 THE DUSKY DUCK. 
 
 tions, and quite a few remaining to breed in suitable places. 
 When passing north in spring, sometimes in single pairs, 
 sometimes in groups of pairs, they seem to tarry for a few 
 weeks, selecting certain feeding grounds shallow pools 
 and ditches about the fields to which they attend regu- 
 larly, unless seriously disturbed. Like the Mallards, they 
 are particularly Ducks of the ponds and the puddle-holes. 
 Here, by proper caution in the use of some screen, they 
 may be easily shot, especially about day-break. These 
 Ducks, as also the Mallards, are occasionally seen in enor- 
 mous flocks in early spring on submerged grain-fields of 
 the previous year, in the vicinity of Tonawanda Swamp, a 
 large territory extending along the southern border of this 
 county (Orleans), and many miles beyond. 
 
 On the 7th of last April (1881), the Ducks flew in great num- 
 bers in these flooded regions. I was watching them from a 
 retired point of view. They flew mostly in pairs, and were 
 nearly all of the species I am now describing. I noticed 
 that they all made for a certain corner of a flooded field 
 which was nearly surrounded by a forest. They would fly 
 in grand circles around it and at a considerable height for 
 some time, and having thus thoroughly surveyed the 
 ground, would sail with down-curved wings till the great 
 momentum of their speed was broken, and then drop down 
 gradually, holding the body in an oblique position, and 
 flapping the wings forward just as a bird does in hovering, 
 thus alighting easily and gracefully. Being curious to 
 see the place of rendezvous, I crept stealthily around to 
 one side of it, but before I could get within gunshot the 
 Ducks rose en masse. There must have been many hun- 
 dreds, and the noise of their wings was like the roll of 
 thunder. I hid behind the fence, thinking they might 
 return; but these Ducks are very shy, and gave me no 
 
THE DUSKY DUCK. 129 
 
 opportunity for a shot that evening. I watched for them 
 the next morning before daylight, but it had frozen hard, 
 and they had all disappeared. Where had they gone ? I 
 went to Lake Ontario the same day, but could not find them. 
 
 Being on the ground again a week later, and being curi- 
 ous to know where the Ducks spent the night, I was advised 
 to push my boat into a flooded region of a thick second 
 growth of varied trees and bushes of the lowlands, about 
 sundown, and watch their movements. As the rosy tints of 
 sunset were fading out of the sky, the Ducks, nearly all of 
 the kind now under review, began to circle over the spot; 
 and every now and then a pair would drop down after the 
 manner of alighting above described, and with a sharp 
 flutter and rustle of the wings, reach the water with a 
 heavy splash. They continued to come until dark, large 
 numbers thus spending the night floating on these quiet 
 waters in the security of the trees and the bushes. 
 
 Before day the next morning I was at the favorite ren- 
 dezvous where I had seen so many Ducks the week before. 
 As the cold sky of the night began to assume the soft 
 golden hues of the coming morning a change which takes 
 place quite suddenly the Ducks began to arrive. This 
 time there was none of that cautious reconnoitering of the 
 place, which is common to these birds at other times of 
 day. I could hear them squaking, without any reserve 
 whatever, some time before they reached the spot, and as 
 they arrived, they immediately dropped down in their flut- 
 tering, rustling manner, the sound of which, coming so 
 near my screen by a tree in the open field, had a very 
 exciting effect upon me in this deep light of the morn- 
 ing. To watch their sprightly and happy movements in 
 this state of perfect freedom was well worth all the incon- 
 venience of rising early, walking far and shivering in the 
 9 
 
130 THE DUSKY DUCK. 
 
 cold. As the morning light became clear, I could see a pair 
 of Mallards in the crowd; the rest were all Dusky Ducks. 
 None, however, were near enough for a shot; and as the 
 light intensified, and my screen was noted as a new addition 
 to the landscape, on a slight squaking signal by one es- 
 pecially on the alert, they all left with a rush. 
 
 On the 22d of last September I was at Lake Ontario. 
 The Dusky Ducks were there in immense numbers. Through 
 the glass I could see a flock of several hundreds a few miles 
 out from the shore. They sat on the water, as the hunters 
 say, in great windrows. The lake was smooth, but there 
 was a gentle, undulating motion of the water; and the 
 whole flock, with here and there a sentinel on the alert, 
 were resting with their bills under their scapulars, as if 
 asleep. The glass was powerful, bringing the birds imme- 
 diately before me; and the sight was as serenely happy as 
 one could wish to see in the varied and delightful domain 
 of nature. Presently one of the crowd yawned and 
 stretched itself upright, and flapped its wings joyously on 
 the water, and all followed the example, making a great 
 fluttering cloud of darkness on the gleaming surface. Now 
 they began to shoot about among each other in a most 
 hurried manner, as regularly, however, as men and women 
 would cut figures in a dance, and thus making one of the 
 most spirited and gleeful impressions. Then they would 
 all quiet down again, and ride gracefully on the gently 
 moving waters, their heads drawn closely on their breasts, 
 as if in the most complete repose. 
 
 Like the Mallard, the Dusky Duck feeds on small mol- 
 lusks, roots, and grain, and will not disdain a lizard or a 
 mouse; and, like the Mallard, it is particularly a fresh- water 
 Duck, though it is not infrequently found about the borders 
 of the ocean. 
 
THE DUSKY DUCK. 131 
 
 Never shall I forget my childish glee on finding a flock 
 of these Ducks just hatched, following the mother in the 
 woods near a wild meadow. They were a dark olive, almost 
 black on the head and back. The old Duck seemed quite 
 tame, and the little ones did not try very hard to escape. 
 Filling my hat with them, I hurried home, but was soon 
 obliged to hurry back, as my mother did not approve of my 
 enterprise. 
 
 A few months ago (1883), while visiting the old paternal 
 farm, I was again diverted by a flock of these same young 
 Ducks. The female rose from a mud-hole in the wild 
 meadow with a great splutter; and, standing still, I began 
 to look about me for the young. For some time I could 
 see nothing of them, they were so nearly the color of the 
 mud and the drabbled grass. By and by my eye caught one 
 which must have been fully ten days old, sitting perfectly 
 motionless in the water, which filled a cow's track in the 
 mud. Looking a little to one side I saw two more snuggled 
 together in a like dish of water, then another and another, 
 and still another all sitting so motionless that I do not 
 think they even winked. Thinking that I had looked at 
 them long enough I stepped forward, when, two more start- 
 ing up, they all hurried away helter-skelter into the bushes. 
 
 The Dusky Duck ranges through Eastern North America 
 to Labrador, and, breeding more or less throughout, but 
 more especially to the north, is strictly an American species. 
 The nest, built on the ground, generally near the water, 
 sometimes in a tussock of grass, sometimes sunk into the 
 moss, or even placed on a moss-covered rock or on the top 
 of a decayed log, is composed of dried grasses and various 
 vegetable substances, the edge being well surrounded with 
 down and feathers if incubation be well advanced, and so 
 the nest complete, thus giving it a peculiar, dark appearance. 
 
132 THE SONG SPARROW. 
 
 The eggs, some eight in number, are about 2.38 x 1.3V, very 
 nearly the size and shape of a common hen's egg, the 
 surface being of an opaque smoothness, and of a uniform 
 brownish tint, sometimes, indeed, of an elegant greenish, or 
 even reddish shade, the fresh egg seeming fairly translucent. 
 Generally, however, the eggs, like those of the Ducks in 
 general, are much soiled and disfigured from the bird's 
 entering the nest directly from the riled water and the mud. 
 
 THE SONG SPARROW. 
 
 The sun is now well up, and the thin sheet of snow is 
 melting rapidly. There is such a mingling of spring 
 warmth and winter sunshine as makes the day particularly 
 bright and suggestive. The reflection of every ray of the 
 clearest sun by the clean sheet of new snow so intensifies 
 the light that it seems as if a diffused lightning had become 
 fixed as if the very atmosphere were transfigured. Every 
 breath takes in a reeking moisture, the air vibrates on the 
 hills as in summer heat, and the rippling and purling of the 
 stream is hurried and full. The earth will come out of this 
 snow as from a warm bath, everything freshened and 
 quickened as by a summer rain. All along the flats about 
 the creek, from the clumps of bushes, from the thickets, 
 and from the edges of the forests, come the loud and ring- 
 ing notes of the Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia). Except 
 the creaking melody of the Horned Lark, heard fully a 
 month earlier, or possibly the simultaneous warbling note 
 of the Bluebird, this is our first noticeable bird-song of the 
 year. On the most disagreeable days of late February or 
 early March, when the air has that peculiar chill caused 
 by the slow melting of snow and ice, or a rain is falling 
 barely above the freezing point, the clear, strong vibrations 
 of this melody are as cheerful as in the most genial days of 
 
THE SONG SPARROW. 133 
 
 spring. They sound like a sudden outburst of joy in the 
 midst of the universal bleakness of a winter's day like 
 something out of its time a melodious prophecy of the 
 joys of spring so near these last days of winter. 
 
 We may sometimes find the Song Sparrow in a sheltered 
 place here, even in winter, and hear him lisp a faint warble 
 from near the ground, but his full song is reserved till this 
 approach of spring. The clear strokes, twitters, and trills of 
 this song are especially musical and inspiriting on this bright, 
 still morning. They have the whole vibrating capacity of 
 the atmosphere to themselves, without even the rustling of 
 a leaf or the humming of an insect to counteract them. 
 Commencing with several long and peculiarly resonant 
 notes the bird continues in a twittering warble, and ends 
 with several notes longer and more resonant than the first, 
 the whole being in a tone so loud and penetrating that one 
 cannot but marvel at the capacity of those tiny lungs, scarcely 
 larger than a small bean. But the vocal apparatus of 
 birds, and of song-birds in particular, is very remarkable. 
 The larynx, highly complicated in structure, is at the lower 
 end of the trachea, or windpipe, being also connected with 
 the upper part or fork of the bronchial tubes; and the 
 muscles connected with it, only one or two pairs in ordinary 
 birds, in song-birds, are no less than five pairs. These mus- 
 cles may change the relative positions of the cartilaginous 
 rings or half-rings connected with the vocal organ; or they 
 may lengthen or shorten the trachea, thus giving the effect 
 of tubes of different lengths in a pipe-organ, or they may 
 modify the tension of the trilling membrane and other 
 membranes of the vocal organ itself. Also the arytenoid 
 cartilages at the upper end of the trachea may open or par- 
 tially close the air passage, and so modify the sound some- 
 thing after the manner of the knee-swell of a common 
 
134 THE SONG SPARROW. 
 
 parlor-organ. All these vocal contrivances are greatly 
 aided again by the air-cavities and passages pervading the 
 interior of the body, the muscles and the bones. The 
 delightful qualities of tone, and the variations of melody 
 which are thus made possible to the sylvan songster, must 
 fall on the ear of a genuine lover of music to be fully 
 appreciated. Truly nature has concentrated the energy of 
 the song-bird in the vocal powers as well as that of birds in 
 general in the wing. Song, that high endowment of a portion 
 only of the human race, is the peculiar and fascinating gift of 
 certain birds, thus placing them not only above all others 
 of their kind, but above all the rest of animated nature. 
 
 How often throughout the season have I felt the cheering 
 influence of the melody of a Song Sparrow as it sang regu- 
 larly in the apple-trees near my study-window! Many a 
 performance by the human voice have I heard, far less sig- 
 nificant and entertaining than this spirited pastoral. The 
 song of this species varies greatly in different individuals, 
 and I have sometimes thought that it varied greatly in 
 different and distant localities. On going into the higher 
 regions of our Great Lakes, for instance, I have suspected 
 the melody of the Song Sparrow to be that of some other 
 species, until I had thoroughly assured myself. Ordinarily, 
 the song has a peculiar, vibrating tone, making one think of 
 a tremulous reed or chord; but often the more prolonged 
 notes are decidedly tintinnabulary, as if the bird carried a 
 tiny bell in its throat, and struck off its tones in the most 
 delicate and pleasing manner. The order, again, of the 
 long notes and the short ones in the melody may be end- 
 lessly varied. Well, indeed, has this interesting species 
 been called the Song Sparrow. 
 
 In autumn, even, especially in the balmy days of Indian 
 Summer, one may hear its lay not so loud and penetrat- 
 
THE SONG SPARROW. 135 
 
 ing as in spring, indeed, but in a subdued and tender modu- 
 lation, peculiar to the time of year. One of our commonest 
 birds, found anywhere from the door-yard to the forest, 
 rather partial, however, to thickets, the Song Sparrow is 
 the useful ally of man against the insect-tribes, and a 
 happy minstrel to cheer him in his toils. 
 
 Already in April this bird builds its first nest, a second 
 following as soon as possible, and perhaps a third. Thus 
 the breeding season continues to the end of summer. I 
 have seen the eggs fresh the last days of August, and the 
 young in the nest in September. The nest is usually on the 
 ground, and well sheltered by some projecting object a 
 bush, a tussock of grass, a root, or a hummock of earth; 
 but it may be in a bush, or in a hedge, or even in a broken 
 dish. In the latter part of the season the nests are much more 
 frequently up from the ground in a hedge or in a bush 
 than in the early spring, perhaps because the birds thus 
 seek to escape the disturbances of cultivation haying, 
 harvesting, and the grazing herds of the pasture. The 
 nest is composed for the most part of dried grasses, and is 
 often lined with horse-hair. The eggs, from .77X.55- 
 .85 X -60, vary greatly in color and in marking. The ground- 
 color is a greenish, or bluish, or grayish-white. The mark- 
 ing* generally very thick and heavy, is of some shade of 
 brown, traced with lilac. There is sometimes a single egg 
 in a set, of a delicate green, and almost spotless. I know 
 of no eggs which vary so greatly in color. 
 
 I do not so frequently find the Cow Blackbird's eggs in 
 this nest as in that of other small birds in general. 
 The Song Sparrow is quite excitable when its nest is dis- 
 turbed, and emits a peculiar chimp, chimp, unlike the alarm 
 note of any other bird, yet it has sometimes the chip peculiar 
 to other Sparrows. 
 
136 THE PURPLE FINCH. 
 
 This species, composed of some half-dozen varieties, 
 covers North America. Our eastern variety (Melospiza 
 melodia), wintering from Southern New England and the 
 Middle States southward, and extending north to the lati- 
 tude of Nova Scotia, is some six inches or more in length, 
 and has the marking and color common to all our Spar- 
 rows. It is distinguishable to me, however, by its general 
 reddish tinge of brown, especially by its long crown tail, 
 by the heavy dark spots on its dull white breast, and more 
 especially by the heavy dark streaks from the base of its 
 bill down its cheeks and neck. 
 
 Belonging to the same genus with the Song and Swamp 
 Sparrows, is Lincoln's Sparrow (Melospiza lincolnO). Some 
 5.50 long, it has the colors and markings of the Sparrows in 
 general above ; throat and belly white, with a broad, brownish- 
 yellow band across the breast, the throat, breast and sides 
 being specked and spotted with brown and black. In habit, 
 nidification, etc., this bird is very similar to the Song Sparrow. 
 It is found in the migrations throughout North America, being 
 rare to the eastward, but abundant in the west and north- 
 west. Audubon found it breeding in Labrador, and its 
 nests are found in great abundance about Great Slave Lake 
 and Yukon River. Mr. Bruce saw it in a thicket by Lake 
 Ontario, on the 17th of May (1880), in company with the 
 White-crowned and White-throated Sparrows. 
 
 THE PURPLE FINCH. 
 
 As I return to the village about noon I am greeted by the 
 Purple Finch (Carpodacus purpureus), which has already 
 been here in full song for a week. The size and general 
 shape of one of the larger Sparrows, its head is a dark 
 crimson; rump, breast and under parts of the same, but 
 much lighter, the latter becoming white underneath; 
 
THE PURPLE FINCH. 137 
 
 feathers of the back and the wing coverts, deep dusky, edged 
 with crimson; wing and tail-feathers, dusky-black, edged 
 with light-brown. The female, strongly resembled by the 
 male for the first two years or more, is nearly the color of 
 a Song Sparrow. From early spring till late summer this 
 is one of our most delightful songsters. Lifting itself up 
 to full length with elevated crest, its voluble rich tones 
 strongly resembling those of the Warbling Vireo, only 
 more rapid and spirited fairly gurgle in its throat to the 
 very end of the lengthy strain. In the sunny days of the 
 mating season it has quite a variety of short, spirited notes, 
 such as pick-wee, wee-ree, wee-ree-ee. Then, too, it launches 
 into the air, and with crown-feathers erect, tail partially 
 thrown up, and a vibrating of wings rather than real flight, 
 gives its finest melody. 
 
 With much demonstration does the male win his plain 
 mate. Never shall I forget how I once saw him perform on 
 a fence-rail between me and the setting sun. Straightening 
 up to full length in front of his spouse, his wings vibrating 
 almost like those of a Humming-bird, his crimson crest all 
 aflame in the slanting rays of rosy light, he poured forth 
 his sweetest warble. 
 
 The following note from Mr. Eugene Ringueberg, of 
 Lockport, is in place here: "While out in a grove of ever- 
 greens near the house this morning (April 30th), I saw two 
 male Purple Finches chasing a female in and out among 
 the trees. She flew around for three or four minutes, only 
 alighting once in a while to rest, closely pursued by the 
 males, singing as hard as they could nearly all the time. 
 At length, however, she lit on the branch of a beech-tree, 
 and then one of her suitors perched on -a branch within a 
 foot of her on one side, and the other at about the same 
 distance on the other side. Immediately a contest of song 
 
138 THE PURPLE FINCH. 
 
 commenced. Each male faced the female with neck out- 
 stretched and crest raised to its fullest dimensions, and 
 leaned forward far enough to show conspicuously its bright 
 rump, and to aid in this display, spread both wings and 
 tail to the widest extent; and moving, or more properly 
 dancing, up and down, poured forth such a volume of song 
 as I did not think them capable of producing. They kept 
 up this brilliant display of both song and plumage for over 
 a minute, without one second's cessation, continually mov- 
 ing the head and body from side to side, and giving a 
 tremulous, vibratory movement to the wings. Suddenly 
 they stopped, and after a few seconds of restless chirping, 
 one male flew away, and in a short time the other followed, 
 and then the female flew after the latter." 
 
 From the middle of May onward into June you may find 
 the nest of the Purple Finch almost invariably in the thick 
 part of a small evergreen, and near the trunk, most com- 
 monly in the front yard, or in an evergreen hedge set for a 
 wind-brake; for though rather shy on the whole, this species 
 seeks the society of man. The nest is framed with small 
 twigs, fine rootlets and some dried grass, ornamented, per- 
 haps, with a few dried leaves, bunches of moss, or bits of 
 vegetable down; it is lined with the finest of dried grasses 
 and rootlets, or more commonly with hair and fine vege- 
 table fibres. The eggs, generally four, some .75 x -55, are 
 a delicate light-green, finely specked with black, or more 
 coarsely spotted with brown. The Purple Finch breeds here 
 quite commonly. Wintering sparingly in Massachu- 
 setts and the more southern parts of New York, but abund- 
 antly in the Southern States, it comes to us in March, 
 reaching Labrador in the north and the Pacific in the west, 
 and goes southward late in the migratory season. Stearns, 
 therefore, very properly assigns it to the " Canadian and 
 
THE PURPLE FINCH. 139 
 
 Alleghanian Fauna, the latter being in fact its center of 
 abundance in the breeding season, at which time the bird 
 is probably nowhere more numerous than in Massachusetts." 
 In no place have I ever found it so abundant as in Nova 
 Scotia. 
 
 Cassin's Purple Finch and the Crimson-fronted are 
 closely-allied western varieties, belonging to the Avi-fauna 
 of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 The Purple Finch has the extreme robustness or thick- 
 ness of bill belonging to its tribe. It is, however, not 
 merely a seed-eating bird, but has justly awakened no 
 small prejudice in the gardener, on account of its partiality 
 for the tender filaments and fat anthers of fruit-blossoms. 
 But even if fruit-blossoms were not more numerous than is 
 necessary, this bird's bright plumage and wonderful song 
 might well atone for the little mischief it may do. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 EARLY APRIL AND THE PHCEBE. 
 
 IN no field of thought does the law of the association of 
 ideas work more potently than in the domain of nature. 
 Each season has its voices, its temperatures, and its moods 
 of earth and sky. Along with the burning days of harvest 
 we associate the drowsy hum of the Cicada; with the more 
 temperate days, the fading fields and the cool evenings of 
 late summer the shrilling of crickets, locusts and grass- 
 hoppers; with the driving snows of winter, clouds of Snow 
 Buntings; with the wooing, sunny days of late March and 
 early April, the homely but significant voice of the Phoebe 
 (Sayornis fuscus), one of our welcome birds of early spring. 
 While yet the ground is crisp from the frosts of the previ- 
 ous night, and the lingering snow-drifts about, the fence- 
 corners give back the unclouded rays of the morning sun in 
 countless scintillations, as the spirited note of the Robin, 
 the amorous warble of the Bluebird, the plaintive melody 
 of the Meadow Lark, and the ringing notes of the Song Spar- 
 row mingle with the sound of the axe of the woodman on 
 the hill, this newly arrived bird mounts the fence, the corn- 
 bin, or the ridge of the barn, and with frequent jerks of the 
 tail emits, at short intervals, his rather harsh, but by no 
 means unpleasing, pe-wee. This is Phoebe's very best song. 
 For more ordinary purposes, however, a chip or a whit may 
 suffice. After a few weeks, the cheerful note which 
 
THE PHCEBE. 141 
 
 announced her arrival ceases, scarcely to be heard again 
 during her stay. Mr. Burroughs says of this note: "At 
 agreeable intervals in her lay, she describes a circle or an 
 ellipse in the air, ostensibly prospecting for insects, but 
 really, I suspect, as an artistic flourish, thrown in to make 
 up in some way for the deficiency of her musical perform- 
 ance." All pretty fancies aside, Phcebe is, without doubt, a 
 Flycatcher in earnest. Mark her as she describes her curve 
 from the fence-stake, the apple-tree, or the willow which 
 overhangs the brook, or hovers amidst a cloud of gnats or 
 midges, and be assured that the snapping of the bill is no 
 mere pretense. With head large, and legs weak, with 
 colors exceedingly plain, and a flight altogether ordinary, 
 this bird appeals as little to the eye as to the ear. In short, 
 Phcebe is in every point of view a homely bird; and yet, of 
 all the feathered tribes, none has a larger or tenderer place 
 in our sympathies. What makes her so beloved ? Just 
 that which endears certain plain and unpretending people 
 to our hearts; or, that supports the old proverb, " handsome 
 is that handsome does;" or, in other words, an affectionate 
 kindliness and confidence, accompanied by a useful life, 
 greatly transcends any mere external accident of personal 
 beauty or accomplishment. The Phcebe has a better repu- 
 tation than either Wren or Robin, approaches us with even 
 more confidence than the Bluebird, can vie with the Swal- 
 lows in her destruction of noxious insects, in the self-sacri- 
 fice of her domestic cares is outdone by none, and is the 
 sure herald of the bright and happy days of spring. On 
 the other hand, no pilfering or cruel habits or faults of any 
 kind detract from her many virtues. In moral suggestive- 
 ness, the history of such a life is more potent than a 
 fable, and welcome as the beauty and fragrance of the 
 flowers. Then cordially greet this summer resident, more 
 
142 THE PHCEBE. 
 
 disposed to self-domestication than any. other bird of our 
 country. 
 
 As an architect, Phoebe is by no means uniform 
 in her method. Though often constructing a mere 
 mud-hut, strengthened by any fibrous or strawy mate- 
 rial, placed on a projection under the piazza, on 
 a beam in the sheds, or on the under structure of 
 a bridge, she may build it almost wholly of shreds of bark, 
 of fine rootlets, lichens, and grasses, or of mosses, using 
 little or no mud. Two nests now before me are both curi- 
 ous and beautiful. The one found under a bridge is 
 double, every part being new. It is built of lichens, moss, 
 dried grass, and very fine rootlets, and lined with white 
 silken fibres and horse-hair, the bulk containing a few 
 pellets of mud as a cement. The apartment of this double 
 nest, which was less finished and contained no eggs, was 
 evidently built first, as the pellets of mud used in cement- 
 ing the outside of the other which was closely joined to it, 
 extend over its edge and into the nearer side of the interior. 
 The more highly finished nest contained five fresh eggs, of 
 the usual size, some .75 x -50 inch, and pure white, and 
 underneath these was a Cow Blackbird's egg, built out after 
 the manner of some of the smaller birds. 
 
 What could have been the occasion of this double nest? 
 As the unoccupied nest was built first, and was a little 
 sidling, I infer that the bird had time to build in addition a 
 perfectly upright one, which was more satisfactory, and 
 therefore more highly finished. (These twin nests are a 
 fine brown without and a delicate gray within.) Mr. Minot 
 mentions a pair, which, being late in building, "proceeded 
 to construct, side by side in a shed, two nests, which were 
 finished at the same time. While the male fed the young 
 of the first brood in one nest, the female laid the eggs of a 
 
'-THE PHCEBE. 143 
 
 second brood in the other." Possibly the double nest in my 
 possession, which, by the way, was also rather late, had it 
 remained undisturbed, might have disclosed the same 
 purpose. In this, as in many other cases of bird archi- 
 tecture, it would seem that the bird had exercised some- 
 thing of reason, in addition to the ordinary impulses of 
 instinct. 
 
 The other nest in my possession was found in the cellar 
 of an unoccupied house, and is composed almost entirely 
 of beautiful green mosses, without any perceptible use of 
 mud, and is also lined with white silken fibres and horse- 
 hair a most beautiful object, especially as ornamented 
 with its complement of clear white eggs! Such nests are 
 sometimes built on cliffs of rock, according to the original 
 habits of the bird, and thus appear as if they "grew" 
 there a beautiful product of nature. This is a bird of 
 the United States, rare in Northern New England and so 
 belonging to the Alleghanian Fauna, wintering in the 
 Southern States, and raising sometimes as many as three 
 broods in a season and in the same nest, which is ready for 
 the first occupation some time in April. 
 
 It is well understood that this species returns to the same 
 place for nidification for years in succession. Audubon 
 believed that the young of the previous year returned, in 
 some cases, with the parents, and thus started a sort of 
 colony. 
 
 Phcebe is 6.50 or upward in length, dark-olive above, 
 still darker on the crown; under parts white or tinged 
 with yellow; sides, and sometimes the breast, shaded with 
 the dark color of the upper parts. The ring around the 
 eye, the outer webbing of the wing and some of the tail- 
 feathers are tinged with greenish-white. Bill entirely 
 black. 
 
144 THE WOOD DUCK. 
 
 THE WOOD DUCK. 
 
 Along the line between Orleans and Genesee counties is 
 Tonawanda Swamp, extending many miles east and west, 
 and giving rise to a number of beautiful streams. Here 
 are large tracts of wood-land, forests of cedar and larch, 
 immense groves of maples, ashes, elms, etc., standing in the 
 water a great part of the year, as well as extensive tracts 
 of mere shrubby growth, and open marshes, moss-bogs, 
 etc. Here are many ponds and sluggish streams wind- 
 ing their way so quietly through the still forests that their 
 glassy surface betrays no current until a boat is launched 
 upon them. Being quartered with a hospitable family in 
 the vicinity, I am spending the first days of April in these 
 interesting haunts. Having paddled a light canoe for 
 several miles along the meandering water-course, I build 
 me a booth against the trunk of a large elm standing on a 
 point where several channels meet. Seating myself, gun in 
 hand, I have a commanding view along the channels for 
 some distance. Presently a pair of Wood Ducks (Aix 
 sponsa] appear. Evidently they are about to alight, but will 
 first reconnoiter the place. They cross the streams several 
 times, making short circuits through the woods. How 
 noiselessly they glide through the tree-tops, the male lead- 
 ing, and the female following closely after. Satisfied as to 
 the quiet of the spot, they drop gracefully into the wide, 
 glassy sheet of water where the channels meet. O, the 
 elegant figure and brilliant colors of the male, as he displays 
 himself in front of the female! The stretching and curv- 
 ing of the neck, and the graceful elevating of the crest are 
 indescribable. How he cuts and darts around his mate 
 and most tenderly caresses her! This is the supreme 
 moment of his rare elegance and beauty. He also utters a 
 peculiar cackling sound. Some 20 inches in length, he is 
 
THE WOOD DUCK. 145 
 
 about half way in size between the Teal and the Mallard; 
 the short and well-shaped bill is finely shaded with yellow, 
 carmine, and green; the top of the head, and space between 
 the eye and bill, dark, glossy green; the long crest, dark 
 green and deep bronze-purple, elegantly edged and streaked 
 with white; cheeks and sides of the neck, deep purplish- 
 brown, almost black; arches above the eyes, throat and 
 fore-neck, with points extending across the cheeks and sides 
 of the neck, pure white; breast light purplish-brown, with 
 triangular white spots, and shading into bronze-green on 
 the upper back; wing blue, black, and violet, edged with 
 white; feathers at the shoulder of the wing white, edged 
 with black; tail greenish-black, with rich purplish-brown 
 on each side of the base; femoral and side-feathers, gray- 
 ish-yellow, delicately penciled with black, and tipped with 
 white and black bands; under parts, white. He is decidedly 
 the most beautiful bird of our waters. 
 
 The female is a little smaller than the male, has the crest 
 much smaller, and is altogether plainer in color; the upper 
 parts being generally grayish or brownish, tinged and glossed 
 with green and purple; space around the eyes, throat, and 
 under parts, white; breast similar to that of the male in 
 marking, but much plainer in color. 
 
 Having performed their amorous caresses, the happy pair 
 spring out of the water on wing and alight in the top of a 
 tall tree, perching as readily as any land-bird, and thus 
 differing widely from most others of their kind. Here 
 they are still beautiful, but not so charming as on the 
 water. 
 
 The Wood Duck breeds here, as it does in similar retreats 
 
 throughout the Union; not on the ground, however, 
 
 after the usual manner of Ducks, but in the ends of large 
 
 hollow limbs which have been broken off, the nest being 
 
 10 
 
146 THE WOOD DUCK. 
 
 placed sometimes six or ten feet in, and in cavities in the 
 bodies of trees. The nest is made of various dried vege- 
 table matter, and is lined with feathers and down. The eggs, 
 anywhere from a half-dozen to fifteen, are smooth, about 
 1.95 X 1.50, nearly elliptical, of a light yellowish-white, some- 
 times tinged with green. 
 
 When the female begins to sit the male leaves her, after 
 the usual manner of the Ducks, and joins other males. 
 
 When the young are about twenty-four hours old, if the 
 limb containing the nest be over the water, they may find 
 their way severally to the edge, and dropping into their 
 favorite element, begin life's perilous career. If the nest be 
 a little distant from the water, as is generally the case, the 
 mother may seize them by the wing or neck, and con- 
 vey them to it, or, landing them thus on the ground, may 
 lead them thither in a flock. More commonly, however, 
 the mother having thoroughly reconnoitered the place for 
 some time, and now uttering her soft cooing call at the 
 door-way, the little ones scramble up from the nest with the 
 aid of their sharp toe-nails, and huddle around the mother 
 a few minutes. The mother, now descending to the ground, 
 calls again to the young, and they drop one by one on to 
 the soft moss or dried leaves, their tiny bodies so enveloped 
 in long down, falling scarcely harder than a leaf or a 
 feather. Again they huddle around the mother-bird; and, 
 the distance of the nest from the water being sometimes as 
 much as sixty or seventy rods, and generally more or less 
 on an elevation, they need the maternal guidance to their 
 favorite element. 
 
 Here, on such shallow ponds and edges of creeks and 
 lakes as abound in tender vegetable growths, amidst many 
 perils, she watches over them most assiduously, aiding them 
 in procuring their food of aquatic insects, tender shoots of 
 
THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 147 
 
 water plants, small mollusks, and tadpoles. When fully 
 grown they delight in beech-nuts, acorns, and such berries 
 as may be found in their locality. 
 
 These elegant birds, so delicious for the table, and 
 so easily domesticated, spend their winters on the 
 fresh waters of the more southern portion of the 
 Union. Indeed, they are always strictly fresh-water ducks, 
 and may sometimes be found in large flocks during fall and 
 winter. Though extending somewhat farther north, this 
 Duck is particularly a bird of the United States, breeding 
 very commonly in all suitable places, and hence is often 
 called the Summer Duck. 
 
 THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 
 
 Scarcely have the elegant pair of Wood Ducks disap- 
 peared, when there passed overhead one of the most dis- 
 tinguished birds in the world the Peregrine Falcon, or 
 Duck Hawk (Falco communis). For a moment he seemed 
 to be "stooping" upon some object of prey, then, as if 
 disappointed, rose for a short distance in a short spiral curve 
 and made off. As he swept with the speed of an arrow past 
 me, I could hear the vibrating hum of his pinions; and 
 when he rose, he pursued his abruptly-curved pathway with 
 a swift, nervous sailing, wholly unlike the slow and majestic 
 sweep of the Buzzards. Though not numerous anywhere, 
 this bird has very nearly or quite the wide world as its 
 range. It is well known all along the Atlantic Coast, and is 
 more or less common along the great rivers of the interior, 
 in the mountainous regions of which it breeds, the nest, 
 like that of the Golden Eagle, being placed on ledges of 
 projecting rock on some lofty precipice. Professor S. S. 
 Haldeman was the first to note its breeding in the United 
 States, discovering the site of its nest in the mountain- 
 
148 THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 
 
 cliffs along the Susquehanna, near Columbia, Pennsylvania. 
 Afterwards Mr. Allen gave a most satisfactory account of 
 its nesting in Mt. Tom, on the Connecticut, in Massachu- 
 setts. Very recently I obtained from the observations of 
 Professor Charles Linden, of Buffalo, some very interesting 
 notes as to its breeding on the Mississippi, about sixty miles 
 north of Cairo, Illinois. A vertical out-crop of Devonian 
 strata, some 200 feet high and about a mile from the river, 
 contained two nests of this species, about a quarter of a 
 mile apart and near its crest. The nests were on a shelv- 
 ing of the rocks, and the limy droppings of the birds could 
 be plainly seen for many feet adown cliff. The birds were 
 almost constantly in sight, and the place afforded an excel- 
 lent study of their habits. It being a little after the middle 
 of April (1869), the wild Ducks were still abundant in the 
 shallow pools of the tall forests between the cliff and the 
 river. The Wood Ducks were there in almost countless 
 numbers. Blue-winged Teal and Widgeon were common, 
 while a few Mallards and Shovellers still lingered. Here 
 the Duck Hawk, perched on a tall, leafless tree well up the 
 mountain side, kept watch for his quarry, many a time 
 swooping with the swiftness of an arrow and with the 
 most unerring aim at some choice individual of the crowd. 
 Thus he deserves to be compared to "a feathered arrow 
 traversing the air with a rapidity of thought, a living and 
 winged instrument of death !" 
 
 Sometimes a passing Pigeon lured him, or a Wilson's 
 Snipe, of which there were plenty here at this time. 
 
 Generally the Duck Hawk contrives little or nothing for 
 a nest, laying its eggs almost on the bare rock or clay; and 
 thus the female sits closely, scrambling to the edge of the 
 precipice, and launching into the dizzy ravine beneath only 
 when closely crowded by the hunter. It has been related 
 
THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 149 
 
 on the best authority, however, that it sometimes constructs 
 a bulky nest of sticks and other coarse materials. 
 
 In the timber lands along the Neosho River, Kansas, Mr. 
 N. S. Goss found these birds breeding in trees. In the first 
 instance, February, 1875, "the nest," he says, "was in a 
 large sycamore, about fifty feet from the ground, in a 
 trough-like cavity formed by the breaking off of a hollow 
 limb near the body of the tree." He continues: " I watched 
 the pair closely, with the view of securing both the birds 
 and their eggs. March 27th I became satisfied that the birds 
 were sitting, and I shot the female, but was unable to get 
 near enough to shoot the male. The next morning I hired a 
 young man to climb the tree, who found three fresh eggs, 
 laid on the fine, soft, rotten wood in a hollow worked out of 
 the same to fit the body. There was no other material or 
 lining, except a few feathers and down mixed with the 
 decayed wood. 
 
 " March 17, 1876," he adds, " I found a pair nesting on the 
 opposite side of the river from the above-described nest, in 
 a cotton-wood, at least sixty feet from the ground, the birds 
 entering a knot-hole in the tree, apparently not over five 
 or six inches in diameter." 
 
 Thus we see that along the rivers in prairie lands, where 
 mountains are wanting, the Duck Hawk, wholly apart from 
 its usual habit, nests in tall trees, appropriating something 
 like a cavity The eggs three or four, 2.20-2.32 x 1.65- 
 1.71, are grayish ocher or chocolate-brown, dotted, spotted, 
 and blotched with reddish-brown, sometimes continuously 
 colored with the same either about the large or small end. 
 
 "The flight of this bird," says Audubon, " is astonishingly 
 rapid. It is scarcely ever seen sailing, unless after being 
 disappointed in its attempts to secure the prey which it has 
 been pursuing, and even at such times it merely rises with 
 
150 THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 
 
 a broad, spiral circuit, to attain a sufficient elevation to 
 enable it to reconnoiter a certain space below. It then 
 emits a cry much resembling that of the Sparrow Hawk, 
 but greatly louder, like that of the European Kestrel, and 
 flies off quickly in quest of plunder. The search is often 
 performed with a flight resembling that of the tame Pigeon, 
 until perceiving an object, it redoubles its flappings, and 
 pursues the fugitive with a rapidity scarcely to be conceived. 
 Its turnings, windings and cuttings through the air are now 
 surprising. It follows and nears the timorous quarry at 
 every turn and back-cutting which the latter attempts. 
 Arrived within a few feet of the prey, the Falcon is seen 
 protruding his powerful legs and talons to their full stretch. 
 His wings are for a moment almost closed; the next instant 
 he grapples the prize, which, if too weighty to be carried off 
 directly, he forces obliquely toward the ground, sometimes 
 a hundred yards from where it was seized, to kill it and 
 devour it on the spot. Should this happen over a large 
 extent of water, the Falcon drops his prey and sets off in 
 quest of another. On the contrary, should it not prove too 
 heavy, the exulting bird carries it off to a sequestered and 
 secure place. He pursues the smaller Ducks, Water-hens, 
 and other swimming birds, and if they are not quick in 
 diving, seizes them, and rises with them from the water. I 
 have seen this Hawk come at the report of a gun and carry 
 off a Teal, not thirty steps distant from the sportsman who 
 had killed it, with a daring assurance as surprising as unex- 
 pected. This conduct has been observed by many individ- 
 uals, and is a characteristic trait of the species. The largest 
 Duck that I have seen this bird attack and grapple with on 
 the wing is the Mallard. 
 
 " The Great-footed Hawk does not, however, content 
 himself with water-fowl. He is generally seen following 
 
THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 151 
 
 the flocks of Pigeons and even Blackbirds, causing great 
 terror in their ranks, and forcing them to perform various 
 aerial evolutions to escape the grasp of his dreaded talons. 
 For several days I watched one of them that had taken a 
 particular fancy to some tame Pigeons, to secure which it 
 went so far as to enter their house at one of the holes, seize 
 a bird, and issue by another hole in an instant, causing such 
 terror among the rest as to render me fearful that they 
 would abandon the place. However, I fortunately shot the 
 depredator. 
 
 " They occasionally feed on dead fish that have floated to 
 the shores or sand-bars. I saw several of them thus occupied 
 while descending the Mississippi on a journey undertaken 
 expressly for the purpose of observing and procuring 
 different specimens of birds, and which lasted four months, 
 as I followed the windings of that great river, floating down 
 it only a few miles daily. During that period, I and my com- 
 panion counted upwards of fifty of these Hawks. * * * 
 
 " It is a clean bird in respect to feeding. No sooner is 
 the prey dead than the Falcon turns its belly upwards and 
 begins to pluck it with his bill, which he does very expertly, 
 holding it meantime quite fast in his talons; and as soon as 
 a portion is cleared of feathers, tears the flesh in large 
 pieces, and swallows it with great avidity. If it is a large 
 bird, he leaves the refuse parts, but, if small, swallows the 
 whole in pieces. Should he be approached by an enemy, 
 he rises with it and flies off into the interior of the woods, 
 or, if he happens to be in a meadow, to some considerable 
 distance, he being more wary at such times than when he 
 has alighted on a tree. 
 
 " These birds sometimes roost in the hollows of trees. I 
 saw one resorting for weeks every night to a hole' in a dead 
 sycamore, near Louisville, in Kentucky. It generally came 
 
152 THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 
 
 to the place a little before sunset, alighted on the dead 
 branches, and in a short time after flew into the hollow, 
 where it spent the night, and from whence I saw it issuing 
 at dawn. I have known them also to retire for the same 
 purpose to the crevices of high cliffs, on the banks of Green 
 River, in the same State. 
 
 " Many persons believe that this Hawk, and some others, 
 never drink any other fluid than the blood of their victims; 
 but this is an error. I have seen them alight on sand-bars, 
 walk to the edge of them, immerse their bills nearly up to 
 the eyes in water, and drink in a continued manner, as 
 Pigeons are known to do." 
 
 Undoubtedly no American ornithologist ever observed 
 the habits of the Duck Hawk as did Audubon; hence I have 
 preferred to quote verbatim from him, rather than to simu- 
 late knowledge by swallowing his statements and disgorging 
 the pellets. 
 
 A fine female of this species, taken in Orleans County, of 
 this State, in autumn, is now before me. It is about twenty 
 inches long and three feet in extent. Bill blackish, blue at 
 tip, light-green at base; cere greenish-yellow; legs yellow; 
 the general color of the upper parts is a rich dark-brown, 
 the terminal part of each feather being much the darker, 
 the upper part, which is mostly covered, having a grayish 
 or ashy tinge, especially about the neck, and nearly all the 
 feathers being tipped with light brown or brownish-white; 
 the inner web of the wing feathers is crossed with round, 
 oval or long spots of buff or light reddish; the tail has eight 
 broken cross-bars of the same color, and is tipped with 
 buffy white; the throat and sides of the neck are buff, the 
 brown check-marking from the base of the bill being very 
 conspicuous; the under parts and femoral feathers being 
 buff or buffy white, heavily marked with brown. The male, 
 
THE CHIPPING SPARROW. 153 
 
 which is about three inches shorter, has more of the grayish 
 or bluish tinge in the upper parts; and the under parts are 
 lighter often nearly white. 
 
 This is a typical Falcon, having the short, abruptly-curved 
 and pointed bill, with a sharp tooth just back of the point, 
 and a corresponding notch in the lower truncate mandible; 
 the wings are long and pointed, the second primary being 
 longest. This species may be recognized by its large feet, 
 its round nostril, with a point in the center, and the dark 
 cheek-marking starting from the base of the bill. 
 
 The Old World representative of this species has been 
 most renowned in falconry. In this princely sport, practiced 
 very extensively from the most ancient times till after the 
 use of fire-arms, and still continuing more or less in vogue, 
 the Peregrine Falcon has ever proved most susceptible of 
 training; "waiting on" the master to perfection, "ringing" 
 the Heron as he "takes the air," and "binding" him in the 
 most gallant and sportive manner. A weird sight these 
 Hawks must have been, as they were carried forth on the 
 wrist or on frames to the hunt, all hooded and trapped out 
 in the most fantastic manner; and most animating must 
 have been the sport, as the grand Falcon described his 
 aerial evolutions in capturing his swift-winged prey. 
 
 THE CHIPPING SPARROW. 
 
 About the 5th of April the first Chipping Sparrows (Spi- 
 zella socialis) appear. They do not become very common, 
 however, until about a week later. Of all our native Spar- 
 rows, this one shows the greatest confidence in man, pre- 
 ferring to rear its young in his immediate vicinity, picking 
 up the crumbs about the door of his habitation, and there- 
 fore very properly called the Social Sparrow. About 5.50 
 long, and having the common markings of the Spar- 
 
154 THE CHIPPING SPARROW. 
 
 rows above, it is to be distinguished from most of its family 
 by its smaller size, and from them all by its chestnut crown, 
 shading into black in front, and by its clear grayish-white 
 breast and under parts. The sharp, chipping note, from 
 which it has derived its most common name, is certainly 
 characteristic, as is also its song, which is simply a prolonged 
 twitter chip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip, itself suggestive of the name 
 of the singer frequently uttered throughout the day in 
 the breeding season, and not infrequently indulged in in the 
 night. 
 
 The anxious mother, keeping watch at the cradle of her 
 sick child, may hear it in the lilac outside the window; or, 
 for the wakeful sufferer, it may every now and then break 
 the monotony of the slow, dark hours, while at the first 
 streak of the dawn it generally strikes the key-note of the 
 universal matin. 
 
 In the location and structure of its nest, and, indeed, in 
 respect to the color of its eggs, Socialis is unlike the rest of 
 our Sparrows. For a nest, Mr. Burroughs says: "It 
 usually contents itself with a half-dozen stalks of dry grass 
 and a few long hairs from a cow's tail, loosely arranged on 
 the branch of an apple-tree." While this is graphically 
 descriptive of many a nest, it is by no means exhaustive. 
 I have before me several quite bulky nests. One is com- 
 posed outwardly of a dense arrangement of fine rootlets, 
 and has a thick lining of "long hairs from a cow's tail" 
 the same as much that passes for horse-hair in other nests 
 or hairs from the tail or mane of some horse. The outside 
 of another is a pretty good bunch of coarse rootlets and 
 dried grasses loosely thrown together, containing a lining 
 of pigs' bristles sufficient to make a nest in itself. Another 
 consists entirely of horse-hair. In every case there is such 
 a quantity of hair used for lining as to justify the name of 
 
THE BAY-WINGED SPARROW. 155 
 
 Hairbird, sometimes given to this species. The nest, placed 
 in any shrub, bush, vine, on the piazza, or apple-tree, is 
 never very near the ground, and may be pretty well up. 
 The eggs, 4 or 5, .68 x -48, are a bright bluish-green, specked 
 at the large end with reddish-brown and black. There are 
 generally two broods in a season, the first appearing early 
 in June. I have in my possession almost a perfect Albino 
 of this species. 
 
 Habitat, "Eastern United States; breeding from Virginia 
 northward; wintering from the same point southward." 
 (Coues.) It is quite common in New Brunswick and Nova 
 Scotia, and also on Manitoulin Island, and on the main land 
 to the north. 
 
 THE BAY-WINGED SPARROW. 
 
 Not many hours either earlier or later than the morning 
 of the 7th of April, we hear, in this locality, the first song of 
 the Bay- winged Sparrow, or Grass Finch (Po&cetes gramineus). 
 Almost at the same hour it is here in great numbers; and 
 throughout our latitude the fields and pastures are every- 
 where enlivened by its appearance and by its pleasing 
 song. By the white feathers on the sides of the tail, becom- 
 ing conspicuous as the bird alights, by the general lightness 
 of color, and by its habit of skulking along so as barely to 
 keep out of the way, this bird is readily distinguished from 
 all the rest of our Sparrows. On taking it into the hand, 
 one notes the patch of reddish, or bay, on the shoulder of 
 the wing, from which it receives its more common name. 
 The length is about six inches, and male and female are 
 alike. Associating the above distinguishing characters with 
 the general appearance of our Sparrows, the bird will be 
 readily made out as our commonest summer resident of the 
 pastures, the open fields, and the road-sides. On its first 
 appearance among us in spring, and by the time it leaves. 
 
156 THE BAY-WINGED SPARROW. 
 
 us in late autumn, the warm tints of its plain dress are 
 decidedly pleasing; but in the burning heat of midsummer, 
 from constant contact with grass, stubble, dust and gravel, 
 it appears rather shabby. 
 
 The melody of the Bay- wing, if not so sprightly and varied, 
 still bears quite a resemblance to that of the Song Sparrow, 
 and is expressive of a tender pathos, which may even give it 
 the preference. It is one of the few bird-songs which might 
 be written upon a musical staff. Beginning with a few soft 
 syllables on the fifth note of the musical scale, it strikes 
 several loud and prolonged notes on the eighth above, and 
 ends in a soft warble, which seems to die out for want of 
 breath, and may run a little down the scale. Though the song 
 is not brilliant, and rather suggestive of humble scenes and 
 thoughts, " the grass, the stones, the stubble, the furrow, the 
 quiet herds, and the warm twilight among the hills," it is 
 nevertheless a fine pastoral, full of the sweet content which 
 dwells in the bosom of nature. It is heard to the best advantage 
 when the rosy hues of sundown are tinting the road, the 
 rocks, and all the higher lights of the evening landscape. 
 Then an innumerable company of these poets "of the 
 plain, unadorned pastures" some perched on the fences, 
 some on weeds and thistles, but many more hid in the 
 grass and stubble swell into their finest chorus, while most 
 other birds are gradually subsiding into silence. It has 
 been well said that the farmer following his team from the 
 field at dusk catches the Bay-wing's sweetest strain, and 
 that a very proper name for it would be the Vesper Spar- 
 row. Its nest, which is on the ground, and often without 
 any protection, is built outwardly of the coarse material of 
 the fields, and lined with fine grass, rootlets, or horse-hair. 
 The eggs, 4 or 5, some .80 x .60 of an inch, are mostly dull 
 white and quite variable in their markings, generally thickly 
 
WHJTE-BELLIED SWALLOW. 157 
 
 specked with reddish-brown and lilac; they are often spot- 
 ted and blotched with darker brown and blackish, and often 
 scratched and scrawled with black as with a pen, after the 
 manner of the eggs of the Icteridce. 
 
 As the first brood may be hatched here by the middle of 
 May, the abundance of nests in all the fields brings them 
 in contact with the plow in great numbers; and as the eggs 
 of the second or last brood may be fresh about the 4th of 
 July, many nests are destroyed in the hay-field. The losses 
 sustained therefore by this bird in nidification are probably 
 greater by far than those of any other species in the locality. 
 
 Habitat, the United States from ocean to ocean, and 
 reported by Dr. Richardson from the Saskatchawan. 
 Winters abundantly in the Southern States, and breeds from 
 the southern Middle States northward, becoming very rare 
 in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. 
 
 WHITE-BELLIED SWALLOW. 
 
 About the first or second week in April the White-bellied 
 Swallow (Tachycineta bicolor) makes its appearance. This 
 earliest arrival of its very interesting family is most likely 
 to be seen along streams or ponds; and while it exceeds 
 but a little the average size of the different kinds of Swal- 
 lows for excepting the Purple or Black Martin (Progne 
 purpured), the Swallows differ but slightly in dimensions 
 it is readily distinguished by its simple markings of glossy 
 greenish-black above, and pure white beneath, whence its 
 specific name Bicolor, or two-colored. In purity and ele- 
 gance of color it surpasses all the rest of its family in this 
 locality, and is itself surpassed on this continent only by 
 the exquisite beauty of the Rocky Mountains and the 
 Pacific Coast, known as the Violet-green Swallow {Tachy- 
 cineta thalassind). Its notes are particularly soft and musical 
 
158 WHITE-BELLIED SWALLOW. 
 
 for a bird of its kind, so that it is called by some the Sing- 
 ing Swallow. 
 
 The flight of the Swallow is one of the wonders of 
 nature. Achieving in its ordinary flight at least a mile in a 
 minute, the Barn Swallow "has been known to leave Hali- 
 fax, Nova Scotia, at sunset, for the South, and to reach the 
 Islands of Bermuda, 800 miles due south, by sunrise the 
 next morning." (Tristram.) Thus, in comparatively a few 
 hours, it can pass from the Arctic snows to the tropics. 
 Wilson estimating the flight of the Swallow at a mile in a 
 minute, its time spent on wing per day to be ten hours, and 
 its length of life at ten years, shows that it would thus pass 
 round the globe eighty-seven times. 
 
 The White-bellied Swallow is especially swift and grace- 
 ful in flight. Behold it "skating on the air." How it 
 dashes along, seemingly almost without-exertion, capturing 
 its food or dipping its bill into the glistening stream to 
 drink, or washing itself "by a sudden plunge," all of which 
 scarcely retards its onward movement. In a moment it is 
 out of sight, or else rising nearly perpendicularly, it will 
 suddenly shoot across the tree-tops with almost lightning 
 speed, performing the most wondrous aerial evolutions as 
 easily as if it were tossed by the winds themselves. The 
 whole domain of air is the Swallow's home. No path of 
 insect is beyond its reach, and what bird of prey can over- 
 take it? Here is freedom, indeed, and a life that is one 
 continual recreation. 
 
 The White-bellied Swallow is associated with the days of 
 my childhood in Nova Scotia. Many a nest did I find in 
 the hollow stumps of the low pastures. A few dried grasses 
 compose the outside, the inside being a considerable mass 
 of large, downy, white feathers of the tame Goose, so laid 
 that the tips curl inward, and almost cover the eggs when 
 
WHITE-BELLIED SWALLOW. 159 
 
 the bird is off the nest. The pure white eggs, some four or 
 five, are real gems of beauty. How bravely the parent 
 birds would defend their nest, describing their noisy circles 
 in near proximity, and, with a guttural shriek, diving so 
 closely at the head of the intruder, as to induce' a speedy 
 retreat. The same stump would be occupied for a series of 
 years, the annual additions of lining giving considerable 
 depth to the nest in time. In New England this bird is now 
 said to build in "a Martin-box," or "rarely in the hole of a 
 tree." In New York it nests in holes about the walls of 
 brick or stone buildings as an instance, in large numbers 
 in holes about the stone buildings of the Johnston Harvester 
 Works at Brockport. Here, too, it sometimes builds in the 
 holes of trees, and more or less in community. 
 
 On the Mud Islands, .Yarmouth County, Nova Scotia, I 
 saw the nests of this species on the ground under flat stones, 
 and in holes in the ground. They were elegantly lined 
 with the feathers of the Herring Gull and of the Eider 
 Duck, the feathers being so laid that the tips curled upward 
 and nearly concealed the eggs. 
 
 Though these Swallows do not generally nest in commu- 
 nities, they often associate in large numbers in spring and 
 fall. What a spirited scene I witnessed about the middle of 
 last April, on one of the secluded ponds of Tonawanda 
 Swamp. The number gyrating above the glassy surface so 
 filled the air that their movements without contact with 
 each other seemed impossible. The air became darkened, 
 and was made resonant by the volume of their musical 
 twitterings. 
 
 These Swallows leave us from the earlier half of Septem- 
 ber to middle of October, when they may be seen in great 
 numbers. Mr. Maynard, of Newtonville, Mass., says: " They 
 congregate upon the salt marshes during the latter part of 
 
160 THE COW BLACKBIRD. 
 
 August and the first of September literally by millions; the 
 air is so completely filled with them that it is almost impos- 
 sible to discharge a gun without killing some." 
 
 I have seen them in like numbers along the Niagara 
 River in the latter part of September. They would darken 
 the air in flight, and, when alighting, would blacken the 
 shore for a long distance. 
 
 Its habitat is temperate North America, reaching even to 
 Alaska, throughout which it breeds quite generally, while it 
 winters in the extreme Southern States, in Central America, 
 and in the West Indies. 
 
 Our several species of the Swallow are among the birds 
 which are especially regular in the times of their migrations. 
 Now, as in the days of the prophet Jeremiah, it knows the 
 time of its coming, and as truly marks the ushering in of 
 the joyous days of spring as when the boys of Athens sang 
 their familiar ditty in its honor. 
 
 The Swallows, Swifts, and Goat-suckers were formerly all 
 classed together as Fissirostrals, or those having a deeply- 
 cleft bill. The resemblance which the Swallows bear to the 
 two other groups is, however, merely external, an analogy 
 rather than an affinity. 
 
 A strict anatomy proves the Swallows alone to have the 
 complicated muscular system of the lower larynx belonging 
 to the birds of song, while the remaining Fissirostrals, having 
 the simpler larnx of the non-singing birds, are placed among 
 the Flycatchers and Humming-birds. 
 
 THE COW BLACKBIRD. 
 
 One of the most beautiful and forcible lessons in nature 
 is the conjugal and parental affection of the birds. The 
 inimitable songs of the males are generally most ardently 
 and sweetly delivered, while the females are enduring the 
 
THE COW BLACKBIRD. 161 
 
 tedious confinement and exhaustion of incubation; thus 
 charming the ear with an entertainment which might delight 
 the very highest intelligences, and so beguiling the weary 
 hours. Behold that male Bluebird feeding the female in the 
 most kindly manner, or the Rose-breasted Grosbeak taking 
 apparently the greater part of the burden of incubation 
 upon himself ! How disconsolate is that House Wren 
 whose mate the cat has killed ! Listen to the sad meanings 
 of that Mourning Dove bereft of his mate ! I hav& some- 
 times pointed the newly-married couple to the birds as being 
 the best guide to domestic felicity. 
 
 And has the reader ever noticed the melancholy arts of a 
 female bird, when startled from her eggs, as she hobbles 
 and flutters along the ground feigning broken legs and 
 wings ? Has he ever seen the distress of the mother Part- 
 ridge at the alarm of her young brood ? Giving them the 
 well-understood signal to hide themselves, she tumbles 
 about and moans, as if in the last agonies of death, and will 
 even allow herself to be touched by the hand in order to 
 decoy the intruder; and when danger seems over, listen to 
 her pathetic maternal call, which again brings the tender 
 younglings under her wings ! Neither father nor mother of 
 the human species could feed and protect a helpless family 
 with more self-sacrificing industry than is universally com- 
 mon to the parent birds. Audubon tells us how the heart 
 of a pirate was once softened while listening to the tender 
 cooings of the Zenaida Doves in the breeding season on 
 one of the Florida Keys. Dropping on his knees upon 
 the burning sand, he penitently besought heaven for mercy, 
 and, at the peril of his life, forsook his murderous crew, 
 and joined his formerly abandoned family. 
 
 In the case, however, of the Cow Blackbird (Molothrus 
 pecoris] of America, and the Cuckoo of Europe, two birds 
 11 
 
162 THE COW BLACKBIRD. 
 
 belonging to altogether different families, we note a most 
 remarkable exception, these being wholly polygamous and 
 parasitic. The Cow Blackbird makes its first appearance 
 in Western New York about the end of the first week in 
 April. Some 7.00 or 7.50 long, the male is a glossy greenish- 
 black, with a brown head. The female, somewhat smaller, 
 is plain slaty-brown. In sombre groups of some half- 
 dozen or more the males being at first the more numerous, 
 but the sexes soon becoming about equally represented 
 they perch leisurely on the fence, on a solitary tree in the 
 field or in the edge of the woods, often penetrating the 
 thickest forests. The intercourse of the sexes is entirely 
 promiscuous, no male ever showing any continuous attach- 
 ment to any one female. Since the body-guard of insects 
 accompanying the cattle affords the Cow Bird a constant 
 repast, or more especially from the attractiveness of certain 
 intestinal worms passed in the excrements of cattle by means 
 of the aperient effects of green grass in spring and early sum- 
 mer, this species is noted for its preference of the vicinity of 
 these quadrupeds; even lighting on their backs; hence its 
 common name, Cow Blackbird, formerly Cow Bunting. 
 
 Dr. Coues says: "Cow Birds appear to be particularly 
 abundant in the west; more so, perhaps, than they really 
 are, for the numbers that in the East spread equally over 
 large areas are here drawn within small compass, owing to 
 lack of attractions abroad. Every wagon-train passing over 
 the prairies in summer is attended by flocks of the birds; 
 every camp and stock-corral, permanent or temporary, is 
 besieged by the busy birds eager to glean subsistence from 
 the wasted forage. Their familiarity under these circum- 
 stances is surprising. Perpetually wandering about the 
 feet of the draught-animals, or perching upon their backs, 
 they become so accustomed to man's presence that they 
 
THE COW BLACKBIRD. 163 
 
 will hardly get out of the way. I have even known a young 
 bird to suffer itself to be taken in hand, and it is no uncom- 
 mon thing to have the birds fluttering within a few feet of 
 one's head. The animals appear to rather like the birds, and 
 suffer them to perch in a row upon their back-bones, doubt- 
 less finding the scratching of their feet a comfortable sensa- 
 tion, to say nothing of the riddance from insect parasites." 
 
 In respect to its vocal performances, this bird is curious 
 rather than entertaining. Ruffing up its feathers, opening 
 wide its mouth, and appearing to strain every muscle, it 
 " seems literally to vomit up its notes," which bear a formal 
 resemblance, indeed, to those of the closely-related Red- 
 winged Blackbird, but are almost entirely destitute of their 
 claims to musical quality. The vocal utterances of Pecoris 
 do certainly " gurgle and blubber up out of him, falling on 
 the ear with a peculiar subtle ring, as of turning water from 
 a glass bottle," but, perhaps, on account of my prejudice, I 
 fail utterly to discover their "pleasing cadence." 
 
 While other birds are busy building their nests, 
 this reckless free-lover betrays no impulse whatever in 
 this direction, but gayly flitting about from place to place, 
 spends his time in mere wanton pleasure. As soon as the 
 nests of other birds are completed, you may notice the 
 females of this dusky flock of Cow Birds becoming very 
 uneasy. One by one they steal away in quest of some 
 strange nest in which to deposit their eggs. They have 
 been known to search the ground, the bushes, and the trees 
 for miles in order to accomplish their purpose. Never 
 driving away the rightful owner, nor taking possession by 
 force, they will creep stealthily into the nest in the absence 
 of the owner, and hastily depositing an egg, hurry back to 
 join their company with the most obvipus sense of relief, 
 and without the slightest further concern for their offspring. 
 
IQ4 THE COW BLACKBIRD. 
 
 This species has never been known to build a nest, nor to take 
 any interest in raising its young, which are left entirely to 
 the care of foster parents. Almost invariably the nest of a 
 bird much smaller than itself is chosen. The Sparrows, the 
 Warblers, the Vireos, the smaller Flycatchers in fact, any 
 of the small land-birds may become the victim of this im- 
 position. Occasionally birds near its own size, as the 
 Scarlet Tanager or the Bluebird, may be obliged to bear 
 the burden. The Cow Bird's egg is so unusually small for 
 the size of the bird, only some .90 X -65 of an inch, that it 
 is readily accommodated in the nests of very small birds, 
 whereas, if dropped into that of larger ones, it may be 
 thrown out. I have found it with a hole in the side and 
 lying on the ground, beneath the nest of the Yellow-breasted 
 Chat, thus evidently pierced by the bill of the bird, and 
 ousted in indignation. These eggs, of a dirty white and 
 specked all over with brown, are readily distinguished from 
 those of any nest in which they may be placed, and are 
 always unwelcome to the owners, which will become very 
 uneasy and querulous; and the female, hunting up its mate, 
 will make a noisy ado over the intrusion. If the owner 
 has not yet laid her own eggs she may forsake the nest, or 
 add a story to it, thus burying the foreign egg so deeply as 
 to suffer no inconvenience from it. Many cases of the latter 
 expediency have been found. Wilson found a Yellow War- 
 bler's nest containing two eggs thus separately built out, mak- 
 ing a nest of three stories. I have seen a like nest of the Red- 
 start. The owner of such a nest does, indeed, deserve "a 
 better fate than that her house should at last be despoiled by 
 a naturalist;" but "passing thus into history," and making 
 such a contribution to science, is worth a great sacrifice. I 
 once found a Wood Thrush sitting stupidly on a solitary egg 
 of the Cow Blackbird. This would seem to be exceptional. 
 
THE COW BLACKBIRD. 165 
 
 Wilson and Audubon, as well as the earlier ornithologists 
 in general, were mistaken in saying that no nest contained 
 more than one of the Cow Blackbird's eggs. I have fre- 
 quently found more than one in the same nest; once not 
 less than four in the nest of a Scarlet Tanager, which had 
 only room enough left for two of her own. Mr. Trippe 
 once found a Black-and-white Creeper's nest with five of 
 the eggs of the interloper and three deposited by the owner. 
 Dr. Coues has well said: "We may consider this pair of 
 Creepers relieved, on the whole, by Mr. Trippe's visit the 
 mother-bird rescued from drowning in the inundation of so 
 many 'well-springs,' and the father saved the necessity of 
 hanging himself from the nearest convenient crotch." 
 
 Perhaps requiring a shorter period of incubation, perhaps 
 on account of the size of the egg being greater, and thus 
 receiving more warmth than those of the owner of the nest, 
 the Cow Bird's egg invariably hatches first. Then the 
 foster parent, prompted by the generosity of parental in- 
 stinct, will leave her own eggs to chill, while she secures food 
 for the foundling. Thus the Cow Bird alone is hatched, 
 and the addled eggs of the owner of the nest are soon 
 removed. Considering the number of nests thus intruded 
 upon, sometimes apparently more than half of the small 
 birds' nests in this locality, the check thus put upon 
 the propagation of these various species must be very 
 great. 
 
 The young Cow Blackbird grows rapidly, and soon more 
 than fills the nest. Meanwhile the foster parents feed it 
 most assiduously, and continue to do so long after it has 
 left the nest, and when it is many times larger than the 
 little Sparrow or Warbler thus imposed upon. It is by no 
 means suggestive of pleasing reflections to see this great 
 over-grown foundling flapping its wings and calling loudly 
 
166 THE MOURNING DOVE. 
 
 for these attentions when it seems sufficiently mature to take 
 care of itself. 
 
 The remarkable sagacity of these young birds in discov- 
 ering each other has been well noted by ornithologists. I 
 have seen them in very considerable flocks already by the 
 20th of June, and later in the season they gather into flocks, 
 which are simply immense. 
 
 Considering how many of our summer residents are 
 hard to find during the moulting period, it may not after all 
 appear so strange that the Cow Bird seems absent during a 
 certain part of summer. In late summer and early 
 autumn they are wont to assemble in large flocks, some- 
 times quite destructive, and, migrating late in autumn, 
 spend the winter in great numbers in the Southern States. 
 They are said to deposit their eggs from 35 to 68 north. 
 General habitat, North America. 
 
 Plain in form and color, without musical attractions, of a 
 disgusting diet, an arrant free-lover, wholly without 
 parental affection, a destroyer at the very threshold of the 
 life of many of our most interesting birds, in short, in all 
 respects of most distasteful and infamous habits, this grand 
 ornithological nuisance would seem to claim no considera- 
 tion whatever, except as an anomaly, being a most flat con- 
 tradiction of the laws of its kind, and hence an addition to 
 nature's great variety. 
 
 THE MOURNING DOVE. 
 
 On the 10th of April one of my parishioners called my 
 attention to what he called a flock of Plover in a field 
 where he had raised corn the year before. The flock, con- 
 sisting of some twenty, turned out to be Mourning Doves 
 (Zenadura carolinensis). Rarely do we see so many together 
 at any time of year in this locality. Occasionally, how- 
 
THE MOURNING DOVE. 167 
 
 ever, they will appear in the newly-reaped wheat-fields in 
 the month of August in very large flocks. They remained 
 in this field for days, gleaning the stray kernels of corn, and 
 perhaps the seeds of the coarser weeds. These birds arrive 
 quite as early as the present date, generally in pairs, and 
 sometimes stray individuals remain all winter. In Northern 
 Ohio they spend the winter in small flocks about the barn- 
 yards and orchards, gleaning and feeding along with the 
 domestic fowl, thus becoming almost domesticated. Hav- 
 ing the small head, peculiar bill, slender neck, short legs, 
 and pointed tail of the Doves, it is a genuine member of 
 the ColumbidcE family, and a near relative of our Pigeon. 
 About a foot long, with fourteen tail feathers, and a naked 
 space around the eyes, its color is a slaty-brown above, 
 bluish on the top of the head and on the back of the neck, a 
 velvety-black spot on the auriculars; front of the neck, 
 breast, and under parts, a delicate, warm light-red; throat, 
 crissum, and ends of the outer tail feathers, white. Here 
 and there about the wings and back is a dark slaty or black 
 feather. The sides of the neck have a beautiful, metallic 
 purple gloss, or iridescence. Female and young, plainer 
 and duller, and slaty on the breast. 
 
 As in Bible lands, the cooing of the Dove is one of the 
 characteristic voices of our advanced spring. In thickets, 
 and especially in orchards, sometimes even in the orna- 
 mented evergreens of the front-yard, some four successive 
 notes, a most mournful cooing among " the saddest sounds 
 in nature," may be heard throughout the day, but especially 
 in the early morning. These notes, however, so strangely 
 in contrast with the universal gladness of spring, are by no 
 means the utterance of grief or woe, but rather of the ten- 
 derest emotions of love and joy. They are the conjugal 
 notes of the male; and such are his attentions and appar- 
 
168 THE MOURNING DOVE. 
 
 ently life-long attachment to the female, that, like the Doves 
 in general through all historic times, he is a fit emblem of 
 the domestic affections. Moreover, his solemn, mournful air 
 renders him a fit symbol of the most pensive side of nature. 
 
 The nest of this species, found here late in May, placed in 
 a bush or tree, on the roots of a windfall, on a stump, or on 
 the ground, is generally a slight and loose construction of 
 dry twigs, and perhaps a few rootlets, built in what is called 
 the platform style, so slight that one can scarcely imagine 
 how the eggs can be hatched and the young ones raised on 
 it; and contains two beautiful white eggs, measuring about 
 1.12 X -85. A nest now before me, some two inches or more 
 in thickness, and lound in an orchard, is made of neat, 
 crooked twigs, more or less covered with lichens, and very 
 artistically laid. It is finished on the top with fine rootlets, 
 skeleton-leaves, and bits of wool; and is a very gem of its 
 kind, reminding one of some fancy log-cabin. 
 
 The young Doves are well matured before they leave the 
 nest, and sit side by side upon the ordinarily rude affair. 
 At night the old one sits crosswise on them, even when they 
 are quite large, the nest and birds together thus making 
 quite a grotesque pile. 
 
 The diet of these birds is well stated by Wilson, who says 
 they "are exceedingly fond of buckwheat, hemp-seed and 
 Indian corn; feed on the berries of the holly, the dogwood, 
 and poke, huckleberries, partridge-berries, and the small 
 acorns of the live oak and shrub oak. They devour large 
 quantities of gravel, and sometimes pay a visit to the kitchen- 
 garden for peas, for which they have a particular regard." 
 
 The Mourning Doves, or Carolina Turtle Doves, as they 
 are sometimes called, may often be seen dusting themselves 
 in the road; and, at all times, their flight is very noticeable 
 from the sharp whistling noise produced by each stroke of 
 
THE WHITE-RUMPED SHRIKE. 169 
 
 the wings. They are abundant summer residents, many 
 also spending the winter throughout the Middle States; 
 becoming rare already in New England, they barely extend 
 into the British Provinces. Many migrate to the Southern 
 States, where they spend the winter in large flocks; and 
 many remain there during the summer. The Mourning 
 Doves are also common to the Pacific Coast. 
 
 The elegant White-headed Dove of the West India Islands 
 is a summer resident of the Florida Keys. About 13.12 
 long, the "general color throughout is dark slaty-blue, 
 becoming very dark on the tail above and black beneath." 
 Crown pure white; back of neck rich purplish-brown; sides 
 of the neck elegant iridescent green, with golden reflections 
 and a fine black margin to each feather. The Zenaida Dove, 
 with a most plaintive and pathetic note, has been found by 
 Audubon only, on the Florida Keys. The plain but elegant 
 little Ground Dove, only seven inches long, "a constant 
 resident throughout the Carolinas and southward, may be 
 so easily known by its diminutive size that it needs no 
 description. Its rather elaborate nest of twigs and weeds 
 lined with iisnea, and containing one or two creamy 
 white eggs, some .85 X .64, may be on the ground, or in a 
 bush or tree. The Key West Dove appears in summer on 
 Key West, as implied by its name. Excepting the Ground 
 Dove, the above group of Doves belongs to the West Indies, 
 and barely reaches the localities named in summer. 
 
 THE WHITE-RUMPED SHRIKE. 
 
 About this 12th of April I observe a quite common bird of 
 this locality, the White-rumped Shrike (Collurio ludovidanus 
 var. excubitoroides), already mated. Single individuals of this 
 species are here in March, and their first brood may be 
 hatched by the latter part of April, a second appearing in 
 
170 THE WHITE-RUMPED SHRIKE. 
 
 July. Some 8.50-9.00 long, it is about an inch shorter 
 than the Northern Shrike (Collurio borealis), and precisely 
 the size of the Loggerhead (Collurio ludovicianus) of the 
 Gulf States, of which latter it is now regarded as a mere 
 variety, occupying the more western and northwestern 
 regions. Coues gives its habitat: " Middle Province of 
 North America, to the Saskatchewan; east through Kansas, 
 Iowa, Ohio, Illinois and Wisconsin, to New York and Canada 
 West, probably into New England. In the Southern States, 
 replaced by typical ludovicianus. On the Pacific Coast, not 
 observed north of California. South through Mexico." 
 Frank R. Rathbun, in his list of birds of Central New York, 
 states that it is "a not uncommon summer resident." 
 
 Bluish-ash above, white beneath (sometimes rather gray- 
 ish-white), patches from the base of the bill across the eyes 
 and auriculars, the rounded wings and tail, black; spot in 
 the base of the primaries, tips of some of the secondaries, 
 edging of the scapulars, sides of the tail and rump, white; 
 bill and feet black this bird is really beautiful, especially 
 in its flight, which is low and straightforward, with 
 rapid strokes, showing the clear white and black of the 
 wings and tail to fine advantage. The rapid wing motion 
 seems almost to describe contiguous semicircles of white 
 and black at the sides of the moving bird, and contrast finely 
 with its clear, light colors. It perches on some solitary tree in 
 the open field, on a fence-stake, or on the hedge; sitting 
 motionless as a Hawk, while it watches its vicinity for its 
 favorite items of prey, consisting of various small insects, 
 beetles, grasshoppers, mice, and small birds, which last it 
 may not infrequently be seen lugging by the head as it flies 
 from point to point, or munching at its leisure when perched. 
 
 The orchard is decidedly a favorite resort of this bird. 
 Here, saddled on the limb of an apple-tree, it builds its 
 
THE, WHITE-RUMPED SHRIKE. m 
 
 strongly characterized nest of sticks, coarse weeds, rootlets, 
 shreds of bark, woody fibers, dried grasses, thread, wool, 
 and feathers, the lining consisting particularly of the last- 
 mentioned items. The whole structure is bulky and ragged, 
 the rim being so thick, loose and irregular as almost to 
 hide the eggs, which may be partially buried in the care- 
 lessly-arranged lining. The eggs, 5 or 6, about 1.00 x ^5 
 are dull white, spotted with greenish-gray or brown, and a 
 more neutral tint of lilac-gray. The nest may be placed in 
 a solitary tree of the open field, or in the thick part of the 
 hedge. Having taken a nest with 6. fresh eggs on the 28th 
 of April, by the end of the first week in May another had 
 been built and contained 3 eggs. 
 
 During the breeding season the male may be frequently 
 seen perched on the fence by the road-side. This is almost 
 a silent bird, the male occasionally uttering a loud peemp, 
 peemp, in the mating period, and the female uttering a pro- 
 longed guttural squeak when startled from her nest. The 
 latter resembles a weaker note of the Vireos, uttered under 
 like circumstances. 
 
 The young Shrikes resemble their parents, except that the 
 colors are not so pure and bright, and they have a light- 
 brownish wash across the breast, in which, as also in the ashen- 
 gray of the upper parts, there is a fine, dark cross-penciling. 
 
 The White-rumped Shrike leaves us late in the fall. 
 
 The Shrikes are a strange family of birds. With the bill 
 and head of a Falcon, the mouth-bristles of a Flycatcher, 
 the feet and laryngeal muscles of a song-bird, the dietetic 
 habits of a Hawk, and, in the case of our American species, 
 the color of the Mockingbird, ornithologists have been 
 much puzzled as to their place in classification. In the 
 latest American works, they rank between the Vireonidce. 
 and the Fringillida. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 LATER IN APRIL. 
 THE DABCHICK. 
 
 ON the 15th of April, I go to Lake Ontario at the mouth 
 of Johnson's Creek to spend a few days in observing and 
 collecting. As I stealthily approach the creek near its outlet, 
 I see a Dabchick (Pqdilymbus podiceps) swimming 1 among the 
 rushes. Occasionally he emits a clear whistle not unlike 
 the peep of the Hylas. How spry he is, darting hither and 
 thither, diving to reappear many rods away, and shaking his 
 head violently as he emerges. I cannot tell one moment 
 where to look for him the next. No wonder he has received 
 the common name Water- witch. Now he starts up and 
 flies a few rods, patting the surface of the water with his 
 lobate feet, as if he were half flying and half running. His 
 head turns so quickly in every direction that I cannot decide 
 whether he sees me or not only as I imply it from his sink- 
 ing so deeply as he swims whenever he rises after diving, 
 and finally from his disappearing among the sedges. This 
 is no doubt a breeding place of this species, as are also the 
 marshes about Grand Island, in Niagara River. In August 
 or September, when the family is well grown, it is interest- 
 ing to watch them at their sports in their quiet haunts. 
 They seem most active between daylight and sunrise. Then, 
 if one is well hid away by the still water, their active swim- 
 ming and graceful diving can be seen to good advantage. 
 
THE DAB CHICK. 1^3 
 
 Spreading considerably apart, they allow themselves plenty 
 of room. How the ripples, started by their breasts, enlarge 
 like arcs of circles on the glassy surface, and intersecting 
 each other, move on increasingly to the shore. In quick suc- 
 cession they glide softly under the water, and remain for 
 some time, no doubt taking their food of small fishes and 
 aquatic grasses. Nothing can exceed the ease and graceful- 
 ness with which they dive, so tipping under the water as 
 barely to ruffle the mirror-like surface. Presently they 
 reappear, one after another, shaking their heads, and look- 
 ing this way and that as if to make sure of their safety, 
 but still swimming well out of the water. Gliding along 
 much more rapidly than Ducks, they describe their elegant 
 curves for a few seconds, and then all disappear again. 
 What a happy family they are! Should they take alarm, 
 using their wings to aid in swimming, they will literally 
 fly under water, coming up a long distance away, and so 
 contracting their bodies in respiration, and thus lessening 
 their specific gravity, as barely to protrude the head or bill 
 on coming up to breathe, and probably in a few minutes 
 will all entirely disappear among the sedges and cat-tails. 
 Though easily shot when not on the lookout, if once sus- 
 picious of danger it is almost impossible to capture them, 
 since they will dive between the flash of the gun and the 
 arrival of the charge. 
 
 How does any bird dare to set out on the immense flights 
 of migration with such tiny wings! They might serve the 
 same purpose as the fins of a fish, but who would imagine 
 them at all sufficient for flight! Indeed, the wing of the 
 Grebe is a compromise between a wing and a fin, it being 
 the smallest wing possible for flight to a bird of its size 
 and what a mere apology for a tail is that little tuft 
 of hair a common mark of all the Grebes. The 
 
174 THE DABCHICK. 
 
 posterior position of his legs, making him appear in stand- 
 ing like an ancient skin-bottle, as well as his long lobate 
 toes, clearly shows that he was not made for walking, but for 
 swimming. He seems to understand alike his weakness 
 and his strength, for when disturbed, he prefers to take to 
 the water rather than to the air hence that common but 
 rather profane name of the family "Hell-divers." 
 
 If there are birds which seem to be designed to live 
 almost entirely in the air, here is a kind evidently designed 
 to live almost entirely on the water. Its migrations would 
 seem to be by means of the great water-courses, rather 
 than through the aerial highways. Its food is taken from 
 the water, and its nest is a floating fabric. 
 
 The Grebes belong to the order Pygopodes, or Diving Birds, 
 and constitute the strongly marked family Podicipidce. 
 They stand next to the Loons which they resemble quite 
 strongly, notwithstanding many minor points of differ- 
 ence, and they are the last family in the present systems of 
 classification of birds. The breast-bone is very firm, and 
 the keel is large. The lower region of the bones of the 
 back has the same keel-like ridge which, to receive the 
 immense muscles of the thigh, is so noticeable in the skeleton 
 of the Loon. The legs extend backward, and are joined 
 by strong muscles to the back, to secure facility in diving, 
 the bird kicking upward against the water in this act. The 
 tarsi are almost as flat as a knife-blade, which form greatly 
 aids in swimming, as it affords the least possible resistance; 
 the feet are continuously lobed, and more or less joined by 
 a web at the bases of the toes, the claws on the latter being 
 flattened like human toe-nails. The bill is generally rather 
 long and pointed. The eyes are far forward, with a bare 
 space in front. The exquisite coat of down in which the 
 young appear is black, elegantly striped with white, and 
 
THE DABCHICK. 175 
 
 marked with red about the head. In most species the color 
 of the plumage changes greatly with the season, and there 
 is a conspicuous ruff or ornament about the head of the 
 male in the breeding period. The plumage of the under 
 parts has a peculiar open structure and a satiny, lustrous 
 surface, inducing its use as fur. The nesting habits of the 
 family .are similar throughout. 
 
 The Dabchick is some 13.00 long. The bill, which is 
 shorter and thicker than that of most Grebes, is pale blue, 
 with a black ring around the part perforated by the nostril. 
 The upper parts are dark brown, the fore-neck reddish, belly 
 white, sides grayish; under the chin there is a black spot in 
 spring, the only distinguishing mark of the breeding season. 
 In the fall this last mark is wanting, and the young have 
 the throat white, streaked with dark. Late in the fall even 
 the young are much smaller than the parents. 
 
 Having had my attention called to the breeding of this 
 species at St. Clair Flats by the communications in the 
 Oologist now Ornithologist and Oologist by Mr. W. 
 H. Collins, a distinguished taxidermist of Detroit, I gave 
 the matter a careful investigation when visiting that place 
 in the spring of 1882. The nest, built up from the bottom 
 in water from a foot to eighteen inches deep, to several 
 inches above the water, is a sort of pier, sheltered by sedges, 
 cat-tails and rushes; and though stationary as thus pro- 
 tected, is so nearly afloat that any considerable agitation of 
 the water will rock it to and fro. It is a carefully-laid pile 
 of soaked and decaying rushes of former years, and other 
 decaying matter from the bottom, with a good deal of the 
 larger fresh water algae mixed in. Cylindrical, some 
 18 inches in diameter, and symmetrically rounded at the 
 top, and having a slight depression for the eggs, it is the 
 wettest, dirtiest, nastiest thing to be conceived of in the way 
 
176 THE DABCHICK. 
 
 of a bird's nest. On this filthy arrangement are placed 
 some six or eight eggs, about 1.25 x -87, white, tinged 
 or waved with light green, the surface being rather rough 
 or granulated. They are soon soiled from contact with the 
 nest. The birds are exceedingly on the alert, leaving the nest, 
 and partially covering the eggs with the wet material, and 
 getting entirely out of sight before the nest is discovered. 
 On examining the nest, however, there can be no doubt as 
 to the method of incubation. The eggs are quite warm, 
 and there is nothing in the condition or temperature of the 
 nest that will at all account for the warmth. The newly 
 hatched young, jet-black, with six narrow, white stripes over 
 the back extending up on the neck, and red or reddish 
 markings about the head, underneath white, bill red, and 
 feet black, are truly beautiful; and so keen is their instinct 
 of fear as soon as they are out of the shell, that they will 
 scramble off the nest and hide among the rushes before one 
 can detect the nest; and but for their chicken-like peeping, 
 their presence would not be suspected. Meanwhile the 
 plaintive whistle of the parent bird may be heard in the 
 vicinity, now here, now there, but seldom, indeed, does she 
 allow herself to be seen. Now ensconce yourself away and 
 remain quiet for a few minutes, and this mother diver will 
 make her appearance, looking sharply in every direction, 
 and softly whistling together her scattered brood. Well 
 understanding these coaxing notes, the little ones gather 
 around her from among the rushes and sedges, and, as she 
 swims deeply, mount on her back for a ride. This is truly 
 a pretty sight, as well calculated to soften the heart as is 
 the cooing of the Dove. Occasionally you will see this bird 
 take her young under her wings, when alarmed, and dive 
 with them, the little ones remaining under for some time, 
 but generally coming up before the parent. 
 
TJfE HORNED GREBE. 177 
 
 The Dabchick breeds -abundantly about St. Clair Flats, 
 still more abundantly to the northwest, as in Northern Min- 
 nesota and Dakota, and more or less, indeed, from the 
 northern limits of the Southern States to the Gulf of St. 
 Lawrence; and though its winter habitat is in the South- 
 ern States, it has been found in midwinter as far north as 
 Southern New England. 
 
 THE HORNED GREBE. 
 
 The Horned Grebe (Podiceps cornutus) is the most numer- 
 ous member of its family in this locality during the migra- 
 tions. In the last week of April or the first week of May, it 
 is very common on our streams and ponds. On the broad 
 and beautiful current of Niagara River, below the gorge, these 
 birds may then appear in flocks of hundreds; and their sport- 
 ing and diving is a sight worth seeing. Now they are all 
 gliding hither and thither along the surface; now they go 
 down in rapid succession till every bird is under water, and 
 again they come up as quickly, till the vast number is once 
 more in full sight. Now the male expands his ruff to full 
 effect, giving his thus greatly enlarged head, set off with 
 pointed bill and red eyes, altogether a peculiar appearance. 
 Probably all the Grebes migrate for the most part by means 
 of the great water-courses, and so depend but little on their 
 rather imperfect powers of flight in this great emergency. 
 
 In the early days of spring, as the Horned Grebes pass 
 along our inland water-courses, it is so common to see them 
 in pairs that I infer they must mate before leaving their 
 winter habitat. 
 
 About 14.00 long, wing some 6.00, bill .75 and quite 
 
 slender and pointed, the male has the crest and ruffs 
 
 well developed. Very dark brown above, many of the 
 
 feathers generally fringed with light gray; below satiny 
 
 12 
 
178 THE HORNED GREBE. 
 
 white, the curved secondaries white; the black head and 
 ruffs with a yellowish-brown tuft or horn extending from 
 the eye to the back of the head, the continuation of the 
 same in front of the eye chestnut; the neck, except a black 
 strip down the back, chestnut or brownish-red; sides and 
 flanks brown and white mixed. The female is similar, with 
 the ruff much reduced, and the colors less pure and bright. 
 
 Concerning the breeding of this species, Dr. Coues says: 
 " I found it breeding at various points in Northern Dakota, 
 as along the Red River, in the prairie sloughs, with Coots, 
 Phalaropes and various Ducks, and in pools about the base 
 of Turtle Mountain, in company with P. calif ornicus and the 
 Dabchick. I took fresh eggs on the 20th of June at Pem- 
 bina, finding them scattered on a soaking bed of decayed 
 reeds, as they had doubtless been disturbed by the hasty 
 movements of the parents in quitting the nest; there were 
 only four; probably more would have been laid. They are 
 elliptical in shape, with little or no difference in contour at 
 either end; dull whitish, with a very faint shade, quite 
 smooth, and measure about 1.70 x 1-20. On Turtle Moun- 
 tain, late in July, I procured newly-hatched young, swim- 
 ming with their parents in the various pools. At this early 
 stage the neck is striped, as in the common Dabchick." 
 
 The autumnal dress of this Grebe is so different from that 
 above described of the spring, that one not aware of the 
 identity of the bird in its changed habit would suppose it to 
 be another species. The ruff is barely indicated by a slight 
 lengthening of the feathers about the head, while the back 
 and under parts are nearly as in spring; the crown, back 
 part of the neck, and the sides are a sooty gray; the chin, 
 throat and sides of the head, white; forepart of the neck, 
 light ashy-gray. Thus clad, they appear in Western New 
 York in October, sometimes singly or in small numbers, on 
 
THE RED-NECKED GREBE. 179 
 
 streams and ponds, sometimes in flocks of hundreds along 
 the margin of Lake Ontario, or on other large bodies of 
 water. In their autumnal appearance there is something 
 particularly chaste and elegant, and finely in harmony with 
 the cold, gray surf in which they are so sprightly and 
 active. 
 
 THE CRESTED GREBE. 
 
 The Crested Grebe (Podiceps cristatus) is common in North 
 America, especially in the more northern parts of the conti- 
 nent, and is also abundant in Western Europe. It is much 
 larger than either of those above described, being some 
 24.00 long and about 33.00 in extent. The ruff on the 
 male of this species is very large, and the crest, looking very 
 much like two horns, is very conspicuous. The crown, 
 crest and terminal part of the ruff is glossy black; base of 
 the ruff bright reddish-brown; fulvous over the eye; cheeks 
 and throat silky white; back of the neck and upper parts, 
 generally, dark brown, the feathers edged with light-brown 
 or gray; sides of the body reddish, streaked with dusky; 
 fore-neck, and under parts, pure silky white. In this bright 
 spring plumage, the male, with his long, slender, graceful 
 neck, is a truly beautiful object on the water. In the 
 autumn the crest and the ruffs are absent, and the head and 
 neck are of the same continuous plain color. This species 
 breeds to the north, and is said to construct the same bulky, 
 floating nest, tied to the reeds and rushes, as the rest of the 
 family; and to have eggs similar, only correspondingly 
 larger. 
 
 THE RED-NECKED GREBE. 
 
 The Red-necked Grebe (Podiceps griseigena var. holbolli') 
 is also found in North America. It is quite a little less in 
 length than the former, being only 19 inches, but it is more 
 bulky, and its bill and tarsi are much shorter. The adult 
 
180 PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 
 
 breeding plumage is described by Dr. Coues as follows: 
 " Crests short and ruffs scarcely apparent. Bill black, the 
 tornia of the upper mandible at base and most of the lower 
 mandible yellowish. Crown and occiput glossy greenish- 
 black; back of the neck the same, less intense, and the upper 
 parts generally the same, with grayish edgings of the 
 feathers. Wing-coverts and primaries uniform chocolate- 
 brown, the shafts of the latter black. Secondaries white, 
 mostly with black shafts and brownish tips. Lining of 
 wings and axillars white. A broad patch of silvery-ash on 
 the throat, extending around on sides of the head, whitening 
 along line of juncture with the black of the crown. Neck, 
 except the dorsal line, deep brownish-red, which extends 
 diluted some distance on the breast. Under parts silky 
 white, with a shade of silvery-ash, each feather having a 
 dark shaft-line and terminal spot, producing a peculiar 
 dappled appearance." To the far northwest there are also 
 the Eared Grebe and the Western Grebe. 
 
 PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 
 
 Before entering Lake Ontario, Johnson's Creek bends 
 northward, and again runs but a little north of westward, 
 thus entering obliquely, and forming a narrow point of land 
 between its right bank and the lake. This point is for the 
 most part well wooded, as is also a considerable part of 
 the opposite bank, thus making a fair retreat for water- 
 fowl in their migrations. Here the creek is pretty wide, and 
 its surface is smooth. As I sit on the bank, concealed in 
 the bushes, a flock of some dozen Ducks drops into the 
 stream a distance up, but near enough to be well studied 
 with the aid of a glass. They are Widgeons (Mareca amert- 
 cana) and Pintails (Dafila acuta). Both are beautiful species 
 of our fresh waters, and are frequently seen together, when 
 
PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 181 
 
 they come from the north from September onward, and 
 again when they return to their breeding grounds in spring, 
 which is generally during April, but is sometimes as late as 
 the first week in May. Not only do they journey together, 
 but they continue together, and also in company with the 
 Teals and Mallards, being often in large flocks in the South- 
 ern States in winter, and breeding abundantly together in 
 the north, especially about the cedar swamps of Hud- 
 son's Bay, and the lowlands of Milk River and its tribu- 
 taries, as also through Northern Dakota and Montana 
 generally. In the first-named locality the Pintail is said to 
 breed the most abundantly of all the Ducks. 
 
 This species, inclusive of the long, ornamental feathers in 
 the center of his tail, is 29.00 long, and his extent of wings 
 is 36.00; bill long and narrow; neck very long and slender; 
 head a glossy dusky-brown to half-way down the neck in 
 front, the centers of the feathers being darker, and the 
 whole somewhat tinged with violet or green toward the 
 back of the head; front of the lower neck, and strips up the 
 side of it to the back of the head, white; strip down the 
 back of the head black, becoming gray on the neck; upper 
 parts of a general grayish or dusky effect, the dusky feathers 
 being for the most part delicately penciled with white; the 
 long-pointed scapulars, tertiaries and tail feathers, except the 
 two long black ones in the center, black or dusky, edged or 
 streaked with white or gray; beauty spot green, the bar in 
 front rich olive, that behind white; under parts white, 
 often tinged with olive. 
 
 The female, having the feathers in the center of the tail 
 only about a half-inch longer than the rest, and being 
 otherwise slightly smaller than the male, is but 22.00 long, 
 with some 34.00 extent of wing; her head is dark brown, her 
 neck dingy white, thickly specked with brown; the dusky, or 
 
182 PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 
 
 blackish of the upper parts is marked crosswise with brown- 
 ish-white; breast and under parts, brownish-white, marked 
 with white. 
 
 On the still waters of this creek, sheltered on both sides 
 by the woods, this Duck is well at home, since it is emphat- 
 ically an inland species frequenting prairie sloughs, ponds 
 and rivers, seldom reaching the sea coast and never breed- 
 ing with the Ducks of the ocean to the north. What a 
 striking object of beauty is that male, swimming with his 
 breast well immersed and his back parts thrown up, his 
 elegant tail elevated almost to the perpendicular, his long, 
 slender, swan-like neck sinuating most gracefully about him, 
 and every part of his lengthy and finely-formed body 
 marked and colored in brilliant contrasts! The Pintails, 
 four males and four females, separate from the Widgeons, 
 the one flock going to one side of the creek and the other 
 to the opposite side. The Pintails swim close together, and 
 seek their food in the shallow margins. They do not dive 
 so as to disappear, but, immersing their head and breast, 
 throw up their feet into the air. They are no doubt in 
 search of tadpoles, for which they labor with much avidity 
 in spring. As they raise their heads above water, the 
 males occasionally utter a rather soft and musical jabber, 
 wholly unlike the hoarse squak of the Mallard or the 
 Dusky Duck. Discerning no object of danger, and feeling 
 perfectly at home in this retired nook, they go ashore in the 
 edge of the woods and turn over the leaves in search of 
 snails, insects, and the beech-nuts of last year, scarcely 
 sprouted as yet. One even snaps his bill at a passing fly, 
 while another captures a drowsy, fluttering moth, just abroad 
 from his winter quarters. How finely they walk with tails 
 erect. Ah! they have taken alarm, and rise en masse on 
 wing. Were I within range of shot I might take them all 
 
PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 183 
 
 with the contents of one barrel, so closely do they fly. 
 Once aloft in the air they are a most graceful figure in the 
 landscape; their full length of neck, body and tail, with 
 short and quiet flap of the wings, giving them the appear- 
 ance of a volley of huge arrows against the clear ether. 
 What could awaken more pleasing emotions than scenes 
 like these? 
 
 Concerning the breeding habitat of the Pintail, Dr. Coues 
 says: "Although I have not recognized it in the Missouri 
 region proper during the breeding season, yet I found it to 
 be one of the commonest of the various Ducks that nest in 
 the country drained by the Milk River and its tributaries 
 throughout most of the northern parts of Montana. In 
 traveling through that country in July, I found it on all the 
 prairie pools and alkaline lakes. At this date the young 
 were just beginning to fly, in most instances, while the old 
 birds were for the most part deprived of flight by moulting 
 of the quills. Many of the former were killed with sticks, 
 or captured by the hand, and afforded welcome variation of 
 our hard fare. On invasion of the grassy or reedy pools 
 where the Ducks were, they generally crawled shyly out 
 upon the prairie around, and there squatted to hide, so 
 that we procured more from the dry grass surrounding than 
 in the pools themselves. I have sometimes stumbled <-hus 
 upon several together, crouching as close as possible, and 
 caught them all in my hands." 
 
 He then adds from Dr. Dall concerning this same species: 
 " Extremely common in all parts of the Yukon, and on the 
 marshes near the sea coast. In the early spring, arriving about 
 May 1st, at Nulato, it is gregarious; but as soon as it com- 
 mences to breed, about May 20th, or later, they are gen- 
 erally found solitary or in pairs. Their nest is usually in 
 the sedge, lined with dry grass, and, in the absence of both 
 
184 PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 
 
 parents, is covered with dry leaves and feathers. * 
 
 They lay from six to ten, or even twelve eggs, 
 and as soon as the young are hatched they withdraw from 
 the river to the small creeks and rivulets, where they remain 
 until the ducklings are fully able to fly, when all repair to 
 the great marshes, where, on the roots of the horse-tail 
 (Equisetum), they grow so fat that frequently they cannot 
 raise themselves above the water." 
 
 It is further added, that "a nest-complement of seven 
 eggs, from the Yukon, now in the Smithsonian, furnishes 
 the following characters: Size 2.10 x 1.50-2.30 x 1.55; 
 shape, rather elongate ellipsoidal; color, uniform dull gray- 
 ish-olive, without any buff or creamy shade." 
 
 This species is common also to the Old World. 
 
 Our American Widgeon, or Baldpate, though very simi- 
 lar in size, form, and marking to that of Europe, is still 
 specifically different. Some 22 inches long and 30 in extent, 
 the bill is slate-color, the nail black; the crown creamy, 
 sometimes almost white; cheeks and neck the same, specked 
 and spotted with black; patch from around the eye to the 
 nape, including the pendent crest, glossy green; line down 
 the back of the neck, the breast and sides, vinous or purp- 
 lish-brown the tips of the feathers somewhat hoary and 
 the sides cross-penciled with wavy lines of black; belly, 
 white; crest, black; back and scapulars, vinous bay, ele- 
 gantly crossed with wavy lines of black; lower back, pri- 
 maries, and tail, the central feathers of which are elongated, 
 dusky; speculum velvety black, with a cross-line of glossy 
 green next to the coverts which are white, the greater ones 
 tipped with black and bounded with gray above; the outer 
 web of the elongated tertiaries velvety black edged with 
 white; under tail-coverts black, contrasting strongly with 
 the white vent. 
 
PINTAILS AND WIDGEONS. 185 
 
 The female has the head and neck brownish- white, thickly 
 specked and streaked with black; back and scapulars, dusky- 
 brown, the feathers edged with drab or light reddish- 
 brown, those on the back elegantly waved with narrow 
 lines of chestnut-red; wing dusky, speculum and coverts 
 edged with white; the purplish-brown of the breast some- 
 what as in the male, but lighter, and mixed with dusky; 
 under parts like the male, except the tail--coverts, which are 
 white and brown-spotted. 
 
 This bird has the habits of our fresh-water Ducks in gen- 
 eral, spending the winter on the rivers, streams, bays, lakes, 
 ponds, and flooded fields of the Southern States; it feeds on 
 rice, grains, the seeds of grasses, roots, aquatic insects, 
 mast, and small fry. Whether on the land or on the water 
 it is a beautiful and graceful object. On the wing it is 
 direct and swift, having the whistling stroke more or less 
 common to its near allies. Swimming or flying, the flocks 
 move compactly, and so afford a good sight to the marks- 
 man. 
 
 The Widgeon may tarry with us till well on in April, and 
 returns again from the north early in Septernber, and 
 may be seen through October. Pairing before starting for 
 its breeding grounds, it has a soft, whistling or flute note 
 szwee, szwee. 
 
 Concerning its nidification, Dr. Coues says: "The 
 Widgeon breeds in abundance in Northern Dakota and 
 Montana, along the banks of the streams and pools. Some 
 such places which I visited, the resort of many pairs of 
 various Ducks during the breeding season, and of innumer- 
 able flocks during the migrations, resemble the duck-yard 
 of a farm, in the quantities of moulted feathers and amount 
 of ordure scattered everywhere. I was surprised to find young 
 Widgeons still unable to fly, even as late as the middle of 
 
186 THE SCAUP DUCK. 
 
 September, at a time when all the other Ducks observed 
 were well on the wing. Although this bird passes far north, 
 many nest in various parts of the United States. Audubon 
 notices its breeding in Texas, and others in the Middle 
 States, about the Great Lakes, and in Oregon. Mr. Dall 
 found it nesting along the Yukon with the Pintail." The 
 Widgeon's eggs are 8-12, 2.00 x 1.50, pale buff. 
 
 THE SCAUP DUCK. 
 
 On the 16th I go about two miles westward along the 
 lake shore in company with a friend to a place where a 
 small stream enters the lake through a low tract of land, 
 and, as the mouth is frequently closed with the stones and 
 gravel thrown up by the waves, the waters thus obstructed 
 form a large irregular pond, and afford a resort for Ducks, 
 spring and fall. As we approach this pond we discover a 
 flock of some half-dozen Scaup Ducks (Fuligula marila), 
 swimming in a line, near the farther bank. In the act of 
 swimming the white feathers of the sides are thrown up 
 over the wings, so that the males appear white with black 
 heads. How rapidly and gracefully they move! 
 
 Scrambling along almost on hands and knees we pass to 
 the other side on a ridge of small stones and gravel now 
 thrown across the narrow mouth of the pond, and follow 
 a depression behind the opposite bank, thus coming within 
 short range of the Ducks without being seen. We rise and 
 fire, and only kill one Duck, which neither of us can claim 
 with certainty. The rest of the flock fly out over the lake, 
 which is lashed into fury by the wind, and instantly return 
 to see what is become of the missing one. 
 
 The Scaup Duck, Black-head, or Blue-bill for it is 
 known by all these common names is 16 or 17 inches in 
 length, rather short and flat-bodied, with an unusually 
 
THE SCAUP DUCK. 187 
 
 broad bill of a clear light-blue; the male has the head, 
 neck, shoulders, and breast black, with soft reflections of 
 green and violet on the head and upper part of the neck, with 
 a tendency to a broad, brown ring around the lower part of 
 the neck; back white, crossed by broad zigzag lines of black; 
 rump, tail, and wings black, the latter with reflections of green, 
 and having the secondaries white, tipped, and slightly edged 
 with black; tertiaries, and shoulders finely sprayed with 
 white; under parts and sides white, the latter delicately 
 touched with gray. The female, having a broad, white 
 mark at the base of the upper mandible, has the entire 
 upper parts grayish-brown, lighter about the head, neck, 
 and breast; the ends of the feathers on the back sometimes 
 delicately sprayed with white, or silvery gray; under parts 
 white. The young males, resembling the females, may be 
 found in all stages between, as they approximate maturity. 
 The Scaup dives well for its food, a flock thus engaged 
 affording a lively sight. They are by no means so shy as 
 some of their kind; and, on being put up, do not generally 
 fly far before alighting. 
 
 This Duck, common to the whole northern hemisphere, is 
 found alike on fresh and salt waters, and is very common in 
 this locality during migration. They appear on Niagara 
 River in great flocks in the migrations, especially in April. 
 Then they keep for the most part to certain feeding grounds, 
 and have a peculiar way of huddling together, with a 
 swarming motion which marks them from other Ducks 
 even in the distance, and in some places has given them the 
 name Flocking Fowl. As they rise from the water, their 
 thick heads, short necks, and short, plump bodies, as also 
 the plover-like markings in their wings, clearly distinguish 
 them. Like the following, they remain on Niagara during 
 severe winters. Mr. Maynard reports them as particularly 
 
188 THE BUFFLE-HEADED DUCK. 
 
 abundant in Florida during winter, " fairly swarming on the 
 St. Johns and Indian rivers, gathering in such large and 
 compact flocks, especially at night, that they are called 
 Raft Ducks. In rising from the water, at such times, they 
 make a noise like thunder. The earlier American ornitholo- 
 gists were aware of a great difference in the size of different 
 Scaups in this country, and the later writers have separated 
 them into two species, on account of this disparity in size. 
 The specific name of the smaller kind is Affinis. Both kinds 
 seem to have about the same distribution on this continent. 
 They breed in British America and in Alaska, the nest being 
 "very rude, a mere excavation with a few sticks about it." 
 The nest has been found, however, on St Clair Flats, and 
 there is a rumor that this species breeds regularly in the 
 marshes along the south side of Lake Superior. Dr. Coues 
 found them breeding in large numbers along the Upper 
 Missouri and Milk River. The eggs, from 1.60 x 2.25 to 
 1.65 x 2.30, are said to be ashy-green in color, of a dark 
 tint peculiar to the species. 
 
 THE BUFFLE-HEADED DUCK. 
 
 Stealthily approaching the stream a little above the pond 
 a few hours later, we discover a pair of Buffle-heads (Buce- 
 phala albeola), male and female, riding most gracefully down 
 the current. Previous to seeing the male of this species on 
 the water, I could not conceive the propriety of one of its 
 common names, "Spirit Duck"; but so graceful is the 
 puffed plumage of the head and neck, and so striking is the 
 contrast of jet-black and snow-white, that on beholding the 
 male float lightly, like a beautiful apparition, on the glassy 
 surface of some pond or stream, one feels that the name is 
 really descriptive. 
 
 Buffle-head, or Butter-ball, is some 14 inches long. The 
 
THE BUFFLE-HEADED DUCK. 189 
 
 head, excepting the broad, white band extending from behind 
 eyes around the back of the head and upper part of the neck, 
 including the long thick feathers of the latter, is black, with 
 green and purple reflections; the back, tail, and greater part 
 of the wings are black; remaining parts white. The female, 
 which is still smaller, and destitute of the puffed plumage 
 peculiar to the head and neck of the male, has the entire 
 upper parts black, becoming ash on the breast and white 
 underneath, and has a white mark on the sides of the head 
 and in the wings. 
 
 A little while afterward I saw on Johnson's Creek a beau- 
 tiful male in company with some half-dozen females. This 
 is one of the commonest of our fresh-water Ducks. They 
 are most common in April and October. During the former 
 month they are quite common, in small flocks, on Niagara 
 River. As a few remain in the State (New York) during 
 winter, they are sometimes found on this rapid, open 
 current during the coldest weather, probably being 
 excluded at such times from the more quiet water-courses 
 by the ice. It is a most expert and graceful diver, the 
 male holding his crest closely before plunging. It is, 
 indeed, a pleasing entertainment to watch a half-dozen of 
 these Ducks they never go in large flocks diving in some 
 open space among the great drives of ice-cakes along the 
 shore. The young have been taken on the lakes of the 
 Adirondack Mountains; but as " it usually retires to high lati- 
 tudes to breed, as along the Yukon and elsewhere in boreal 
 America, its nidification is not generally known. A set of 14 
 eggs taken, the accompanying label states, from a feathery 
 nest in a dead poplar, some distance from the ground, fur- 
 nishes the following description: Shape, perfectly ellipsoidal; 
 size, slightly over 2 inches in length by 1^ in breadth; 
 color, a peculiar tint, just between rich creamy-white and 
 
190 THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. 
 
 grayish-olive, unvaried by markings. Other eggs are 
 described as being \ 2 /z long by 1^ broad, and buff-colored." 
 (Coues). 
 
 Not being as shy as some Ducks, and flying rather low, 
 this elegant little species may be taken with tolerable ease. 
 
 As it lives largely on mollusks and small crustaceans, 
 its flesh is not the most savory. 
 
 THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. 
 
 As I point my glass out over the great lake, lashed into 
 fury by a strong northeast wind, I see a large flock of Red- 
 breasted Mergansers or Shell-drakes (Mergus serrator] beat- 
 ing their way against the wind, and flying low over the 
 cold, gray waters. As they skim the water in the 
 distance, their long, slender head and neck, as well as the 
 narrowness of their form in general, clearly mark their 
 identity. Common both to Europe and North America, 
 this species is with us in large numbers in late autumn and 
 early spring, remaining during winter if the waters are 
 sufficiently open. This is one of the most abundant species 
 on the Niagara during April and the early part of May. 
 Their long, slender, graceful figure, and the bright marking 
 of the males, render them very conspicuous both on the 
 water and in flight. On the water they are particularly 
 proud and graceful, swimming lightly and swiftly, holding 
 their heads high, and their long, loose crests playing in the 
 wind. They seem to be paired on their arrival, the mates 
 generally keeping with each other even in the largest flocks. 
 The males, however, are quite inclined to turn aside 
 occasionally, and give attention to other females than their 
 own. At such times, as also when addressing their mates, 
 they have a peculiar motion of the head and body. The 
 male will approach the female, and stretch up his neck, 
 
THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. 191 
 
 raising the fore part of his body out of the water, and, 
 plunging forward, will make a low bow with a peculiar jerk 
 of the head, expanding his red gape wide open, and lifting 
 his tongue in a very noticeable manner. Feeding mostly 
 on small fishes, these Mergansers dive readily and deeply, 
 seeming to prefer rapid currents, against which they " hold 
 their own " for hours while fishing. 
 
 Always partial to fresh waters, it bred in many parts of 
 our Middle and Eastern States, in Audubon's time, he 
 having found on two occasions the female in charge of her 
 brood in the lower parts of Kentucky. It still breeds com- 
 monly from Northern New England and the upper regions 
 of the Great Lakes, through New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, 
 the Magdalen Islands, Labrador, Newfoundland, etc. It 
 breeds sparingly throughout the great Northwest Territory, 
 but Mr. Fortiscue does not record it from Hudson's Bay. 
 The nests are placed on small islands in large bodies of 
 fresh water, or near fresh water ponds, and along the 
 margins of streams, in the tall grass or sedges, or under low 
 bushes. Thus unlike the other Mergansers, which build for 
 the most part in holes in trees, this species nests on the ground. 
 The nest is made like that of a Duck and Ducks' nests in 
 general are very much alike and, like it, accumulates 
 quite a quantity of down as incubation proceeds. The eggs, 
 6-12, but sometimes as many as 18, are about 2.55 X 1.72, 
 oval, with strong and smoothly-polished shells, and of a 
 greenish-brown tint. They are generally deposited from 
 the middle of May to the middle of June or later, according 
 to latitude. The young, elegant, little brown creatures, with 
 white or grayish-white under parts, make for the water at 
 once, and dive and swim with the utmost readiness. 
 
 "At the approach of autumn they resemble the old 
 females; but the sexes can easily be distinguished by exam- 
 
192 THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. 
 
 ining the unguis or extremity of the upper mandible, which 
 will be found to be white or whitish in the males, and red 
 or reddish in the females. The young males begin to 
 assume the spring dress in the beginning of February, but 
 they do not acquire their full size and beauty until the 
 second year." (Audubon.) 
 
 The male of this species is 24 inches long, with bill car- 
 mine; head, crest and upper part of the neck black, with a 
 green gloss; the rest of the neck white, with a black line 
 adown from the crest; upper part of the back velvety black, 
 lower part of the back and upper tail coverts an elegant gray, 
 delicately penciled with black and white; wings and scapular 
 black, finely marked with white; breast above a light chest- 
 nut-red, mixed with black; under parts white. He is truly 
 beautiful. The female, having a less perfect crest than the 
 male, is brown or brownish-ash above, the feathers edged 
 with lighter; the sides of the head and neck reddish; the 
 secondaries and greater wing coverts white, thin dark bases, 
 forming dark bands on the wing; the under parts are white, 
 the breast being tinged with gray; the iris is red, and the 
 feet and bill are nearly so. 
 
 As is the case with other Mergansers, the male of this 
 species has a curious enlargement and modification of the 
 wind-pipe, the final cause of which seems difficult to explain. 
 
 In the more easterly migrations, and also in the breeding 
 habitat above designated, the Red-breast is much more 
 common than the rest of the Mergansers. 
 
 The long, slender, cylindrical, retrorse-toothed bill of the 
 Mergansers, commonly called Fish Ducks, distinguishes the 
 group clearly from the Ducks proper. Their diet also is 
 more exclusively fishy, thus rendering their flesh unsavory. 
 Their long, slender bodies, and the hindward position of 
 their feet, specially adapt them to the pursuit of their prey 
 
THE RING-NECKED DUCK. 193 
 
 under water. The group contains only eight species the 
 world over. They are mostly in the northern hemisphere, 
 some two species having been found in South America. 
 The beautiful Smew or White Nun of Europe is only acci- 
 dental in America. 
 
 THE RING : NECKED DUCK. 
 
 On my return from Lake Ontario, I find that a friend has 
 shot a pair of Ring-necked Ducks (Fuligula collaris) on the 
 New York and Erie Canal. This species, which is peculiar 
 to North America, is a rather rare migrant in Western 
 New York, as also in the central parts of the State, and to 
 the eastward generally. In size and shape, including even 
 the shape of the bill, it is very nearly related to the Scaups. 
 In color, also, the females of the Scaups and Ring-neck are 
 very similar, both being of a light brown, and white under- 
 neath. The former can readily be distinguished, however, 
 by her white band at the base of the upper mandible, while 
 the latter has the white band only at the base of the lower 
 mandible. The male of the Ring-neck is distinguishable 
 from that of the Scaup by the dark brown of the entire 
 upper parts; by his gray speculum, his chestnut ring around 
 the middle of the neck, but more particularly by the two 
 almost white rings around the dark bill, the one at the base 
 and the other near the tip. The Ring-neck bears a close 
 resemblance to the Tufted Duck of Europe, and for some 
 time was supposed to be the same. Rising readily out of 
 the water, it flies rapidly and high, producing a whistling 
 sound with its wings. Not appearing in large flocks, only 
 some fifteen or twenty being seen together at a time, they 
 fly rather scattered, and so afford but a poor mark to the 
 slaughterer. Diving for their food after the manner of the 
 Scaups, they subsist on crays, small fishes, snails, frogs, 
 13 
 
194 THE BARN SWALLOW. 
 
 aquatic insects, and roots and seeds of grasses. When 
 feeding along ponds and streams, they become fat, tender 
 and luscious. Very little seems to be known of this Duck's 
 breeding habits, the single brood found in Maine, and the 
 single nest of eggs reported from New Brunswick, being 
 regarded as stray cases. Mr. Fortiscue does not report it 
 from Hudson's Bay; reports from the great northwest ter- 
 ritory do not mention it, and Dr. Coues is silent as to its 
 breeding in the northwestern States and Territories. 
 
 In 1876, May 27th, the nest was found by Thos. S. Roberts, 
 of Minneapolis, Minn., in Hennepin County, about eight, 
 miles from the city. It was pretty substantially built and 
 well finished, on the top of a pile of rotten debris perhaps 
 the remains of an old muskrat-house and was lined with 
 fine grasses, with a little moss intermixed, and a neat trim- 
 ming of down. The nine eggs, some 2.23X1.60, were 
 smooth, and "of a light greenish-white color." 
 
 THE BARN SWALLOW. 
 
 On the 19th of April I observe the first Barn Swallows 
 (Hirundo horreorwri). About 4.50 long, this swallow is 
 readily distinguishable from any other by its extensively 
 forked tail, and by building its nest inside of the barn on 
 the sides of beams and rafters; and is so well known to every 
 one, as scarcely to need description or historical record. 
 Who is not familiar with its swift, sailing flight, the widely 
 spread tail, its manner of gliding in through open doors or 
 windows, or the small, diamond-shaped opening in the 
 gable of the old-fashioned barn ? Lustrous steel-blue above, 
 which color extends down the sides of the breast in the 
 form of an imperfect collar; belly, reddish white; breast and 
 forehead, chestnut, he is differentiated from the Cliff or 
 Eave Swallow, not only by the furcate tail, but also by the 
 
THE BARN SWALLOW. 195 
 
 white spots in the inner web of the tail feathers, thus form- 
 ing a sort of sub-marginal band, and by the absence of the 
 white spot on the forehead, from which is no doubt de- 
 rived the specific name of Lunifrons, given in identification 
 of the other. 
 
 Sometime in the latter half of May the Barn Swallow's 
 nest of mud, lined with straw, feathers, etc., is built un- 
 less, as is frequently the case, the same birds return to the 
 uninjured nest of the previous year and four or five eggs, 
 some .75 x -55 of an inch, white, specked with brown, are 
 laid. In due time, the full-fledged young are seen perched 
 in a row on the edge of the half-bowl nest, the free brim of 
 which is strikingly different from the jug-nose entrance to 
 the nest of the Have Swallow. This row of younglings, 
 often occupying the entire edge of the nest as they sit with 
 tails inward, are exceedingly noisy on the appearance of the 
 industrious parents, and swallow eagerly the food deposited 
 in their wide-open mouths by the parent bird as she hovers 
 in front of the nest. I wonder if the capacious mouth and 
 gullet of the Swallow, so convenient for taking its insect 
 prey on the wing, did not procure for it its common name ! 
 It would seem altogether probable, though I cannot find 
 anything on the point in either dictionaries or works on 
 ornithology. Every part of the world has its Swallow or 
 Swallows of some kind, and every species of this family is 
 noted for that peculiar twitter, so strikingly conversational, 
 that the Greeks applied the name of the Swallow as an 
 epithet to designate the jargon of barbarian tongues. Listen 
 to those prolonged twitterings of the Barn Swallow's family 
 in the nest, and afterward about the beams and rafters of 
 the barn, and agarn as several families perch in long rows 
 on the telegraph wires, previous to migration ! Do they 
 not sound like veritable sentences of some unknown Ian- 
 
196 THE ROUGH-LEGGED HAWK. 
 
 guage, uttered with great spirit, and intermixed with strains 
 of merry laughter? Already in the olden times Virgil 
 noted the "Swallow's twitter on the chimney-tops." Bry- 
 ant, of our own times, sings of " the gossip of Swallows 
 through all the sky;" and Tennyson tells how the Swallows 
 "chirp and twitter twenty million loves." 
 
 The Barn Swallow sometimes raises a second brood in 
 late June or early July. Mr. Burroughs says: "A friend 
 tells me of a pair of Barn Swallows which, taking a fanciful 
 turn, saddled their nest in the loop of a rope that was pen- 
 dent from a peg in the peak, and liked it so well that they 
 repeated the experiment next year." 
 
 This American Swallow occupies North and Middle Amer- 
 ica to the arctics, and spends the winter in the West Indies. 
 There is a closely-allied variety, probably of the same spe- 
 cies, Erythrogaster< in South America. 
 
 THE ROUGH-LEGGED HAWK. 
 
 About the middle or twentieth of April, sailing low and 
 slow over some wet field or marsh, or along some streamlet, 
 much resembling both in size and movement the Red-tailed 
 Hawk, but readily distinguished by the large amount of 
 white in his expanded wings and tail, and plumage gener- 
 ally, we occasionally see the Rough-legged Buzzard or 
 Hawk (Archibuteo lagopus). It is simply a passenger to the 
 north, breeding, as is supposed, entirely beyond the Union; 
 returning to us again about the last of October or the first 
 of November, and wintering farther south, in the seaward 
 portions of the Middle and Southern States, but not beyond. 
 As a passenger, it is by no means rare here. 
 
 The male about 20.00 and the female about 22.00 
 long, this species, common to both Europe and Amer- 
 ica, is always to be determined by its thickly-feathered 
 
THE ROUGH-LEGGED HAWK, 197 
 
 tarsus. Above, the feathers are a deep, rich brown, edged 
 for the most part with light-red and whitish; feathers of 
 the head and neck, yellowish-white, with a streak of brown 
 in the center; breast, femoral and tarsul feathers, yellowish 
 or buff, sometimes white; tail, toward the base, including 
 under coverts, white, dark-brown toward the tip. It is 
 characterized by a broad abdominal band of rich dark- 
 brown, forming a beautiful apron. In the more easterly 
 part of its habitat, our American Rough-leg shades into a 
 beautiful dark variety, Sancti-johannis, often called the 
 Black Hawk. 
 
 This bird is particularly drowsy in its habits, resting mo- 
 tionless for a long time on its perch, preferring to take its 
 low flight in dark days, or in the evening twilight. Accord- 
 ing to Sir John Richardson, it " is often seen sailing over 
 swampy pieces of ground, and hunting for its prey by the 
 subdued daylight, which lightens even the midnight hours 
 in the high parallels of latitude." This habit, as also Its 
 thickly feathered tarsus, reminds one of the Owls. Its bill 
 of fare is given as consisting of field-mice and other very 
 small quadrupeds, lizards, frogs, even insects, and rarely 
 birds. On the second day of last November, one of these 
 Hawks killed a domestic fowl straying in the field in this 
 vicinity. Immediately a trap was set, baited with the re- 
 mains of the hen, and in a few minutes the Hawk was 
 caught by the foot. 
 
 The nest of this species, built of sticks, is placed in tall 
 trees, sometimes on cliffs. Its three or four eggs, 2.33 X 1.75, 
 are dull-white or creamy, smirched or blotched with brown. 
 
 Wilson, who found these Hawks numerous in winter, below 
 Philadelphia, between the Schuylkill and the Delaware, re- 
 ports them as making a "loud squealing " as they arose on 
 being disturbed, "something resembling the neighing of a 
 
198 THE SAVANNA SPARROW. 
 
 young colt, though in a more shrill and savage tone." Cooper 
 also speaks of their calling to each other with a "loud 
 scream." 
 
 THE SAVANNA SPARROW. 
 
 From the 15th to the 20th of April, the Savanna Sparrow 
 (Passerculus savanna] arrives in these parts, and is an 
 abundant resident until late in October or early in No- 
 vember. About 5.50 long, with the common marking 
 of the Sparrows above, white beneath, breast thickly spotted 
 in streaks, this is one of the lighter colored Sparrows, and is 
 always distinguishable by means of its yellow streak over 
 the eye and yellowish wash on the cheeks, combined with 
 the spotted breast, none other of our Sparrows having both 
 of these characters. It has also a little yellow on the edge of 
 the shoulder of the wing. In its colors and markings gen- 
 erally it resembles the Bay-winged Sparrow in the distance, 
 but is readily differentiated by its smaller size, and the absence 
 ofc the white in the outside feathers of the tail. It has the sharp 
 chipping note of its family, but its song is strongly marked, 
 and may be represented by the notes, zip-zip-zip-zwree-e-e-e- 
 e-e, zwree, the first three being short, subdued, and uttered 
 in quick succession, while the fourth is louder and drawn 
 out into a sort of trill or twitter on the upward slide, and 
 the latter is much shorter, and with the falling inflection. 
 The song is not loud, and has but little variation, but is one 
 of those gentle, drowsy sounds in nature which are decid- 
 edly soothing. While this species is not generally 
 dispersed, it seems almost to monopolize certain upland 
 fields and meadows, in which places its melodies are almost 
 the only bird-song to be heard. Being strictly terrestrial, 
 almost never rising above the fence, and keeping so closely 
 to the fields as scarcely ever to be seen in the highway, thus 
 being very unlike the Bay-wing, its nest is sunk into the 
 
THE SWAMP SPARROW. 199 
 
 ground like that of the latter, but is much more thoroughly 
 concealed in the weeds or tall grass. It is slight, and com- 
 posed almost entirely of dried grasses. The eggs, 4 or 5, 
 often not more than 3, about .76 x .54, are greenish or 
 grayish white, spotted and blotched with light brown and 
 lilac, especially about the large end where the markings 
 may become coronal. Sometimes the markings are dark 
 brown, and become so thick as almost to conceal the ground- 
 color. There are evidently two broods, the first in May and 
 the second late in June. The bird leaves the nest quietly, 
 and runs along in the grass apparently without alarm, 
 even gleaning her food as she goes. 
 
 The Savanna Sparrow has always been regarded as par- 
 ticularly numerous near the sea-coast, breeds from Mary- 
 land and corresponding latitudes northward, and winters in 
 great abundance in the Southern States. 
 
 The Ipswich Sparrow (Passer culus princeps), first reported 
 by Mr. Maynard, and since found to be a rather common 
 migrant from the north late in the fall, some remaining in 
 New England during the winter, may be simply a more 
 northern variety of the Savanna Sparrow, than which it is a 
 little larger, and paler in color and markings. 
 
 THE SWAMP SPARROW. 
 
 As early as the 22d of April, in the marshes of Tona- 
 wanda Swamp, I have heard the song of the Swamp Spar- 
 row (Melospizapalustris). The exact notation is difficult to 
 render in syllables. Nuttall speaks of it as "a few trilling, 
 rather monotonous, minor notes, resembling, in some 
 measure, the song of the Field Sparrow, and appearing 
 like tu>e y tw' tw' tw 1 tw' tw' twe, and twV twil y tw tw' twe y 
 uttered in a pleasing and somewhat varied warble." I 
 would add that the trill is in a clear, whistling tone, sound- 
 
200 THE SWAMP SPARROW. 
 
 ing like tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee, quite sib- 
 ilant, the notes being essentially the same as those of the 
 Chipping Sparrow, only in much more prolonged and musi- 
 cal tones a sort of enlarged and improved edition of it. 
 Its common chipping note, too, has something of a whistling 
 tone, rather than any hoarseness, such as is sometimes 
 ascribed to it. 
 
 Some 5.50 or upwards in length, the upper parts 
 are a rich reddish-brown, streaked with lighter and with 
 black; wings deeply edged with clear brown; chin and 
 belly white, tinged with ash; breast and sides washed with 
 brownish, resembling the Song Sparrow somewhat, but 
 smaller and less streaked, and without the spotted breast. 
 It is of a warmer and more uniform brown than any of the 
 rest of our Sparrows. 
 
 The ordinary situation of the nest, according to the best 
 ornithologists, is on the ground, after the usual manner of 
 the Sparrows; but sometimes, especially if the ground is 
 wet, in a bush, or tussock of sedges. I think the latter is 
 the much more common situation of the nest. One 
 which I found in an open, wet marsh of Tonawanda 
 Swamp, on the 25th of May, was built into a thick tussock of 
 sedges and cat-tails, about a foot from the ground. It was 
 in the form of an inverted cone, some seven inches long, 
 made of coarse grasses and stubble, laid in rough angular 
 style, seeming to consist of several sections, the rim being 
 very uneven, with points sticking up in every direction, 
 reminding one of some rustic picket fence. It was lined 
 with dried grasses, which were a little finer than those used 
 in the outside. The eggs, four and sometimes five, about 
 .77 X-51 inch, are greenish- white, finely and thickly specked, 
 sometimes brushed with brown. 
 
 I almost failed to identify the nest above referred to. 
 
THE YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER. 201 
 
 As I approached it the female slid over the side of it into 
 the sedges and cat-tails, skulking along on the ground like 
 a mouse; but, as she crossed an open ditch, she paused to 
 look at me a few moments, and thus gave me the opportu- 
 nity of recognition. 
 
 A nest from Nova Scotia, now before me, was taken from 
 a tuft of tall marsh-grass, and is altogether of fine dried 
 grasses. Neatly cup-shaped, its walls are thick and com- 
 pactly laid, and through the bottom it is deep and dense. 
 From the points and angles of dried grasses leaning in 
 almost every direction around its edge, it is of the same 
 picket-fence style as the one above described, and the eggs 
 are similar. 
 
 This bird seems confined to Eastern North America, 
 breeding from the Middle States to Labrador, and winter- 
 ing in the Southern States. It is quite shy and retiring, its 
 residence being strictly confined to the swamps and their 
 marshy vicinity, where it raises two broods in a season. I 
 found it very abundant among the sedges and tall grasses of 
 the flooded mashes of St. .Clair Flats. 
 
 THE YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER. 
 
 On the 22d of April, as I paddle a light boat along the 
 meandering course of a stream of glassy smoothness in Tona- 
 wanda Swamp, in the shrubs and bushes, which are densely 
 thick along its margin and form a belt between either side 
 of the stream and the tall forests in the immediate vicinity, 
 I spy a Yellow-rumped Warbler (Dendrceca coronata). It is a 
 fine male flitting leisurely about ; the movement of this species 
 being always rather slow and dignified for one of its kind. 
 
 About 5.50 long, he is of a fine ash or slate color, 
 streaked with black; line over the eye, lower eye-lid, throat, 
 wing-bars, spots in the outer tail-feathers and belly, white; 
 
202 THE YELLOW-RUMP ED WARBLER. 
 
 cheeks, and spots across the upper part of the breast and 
 adown the front, black; crown, rump and sides of the 
 breast by the wing-shoulders, bright yellow. Does that 
 golden crown on his head mark him as a king ? or do those 
 bright epaulets designate him as a general-in-chief ? How- 
 ever that may be, his dress of drab and black, ornamented 
 with gold, affords a striking and most elegant contrast of 
 colors; and his size, song, general dignity, and priority of 
 arrival entitle him to be the leader of his large and beauti- 
 ful family, altogether peculiar to America, and of his numer- 
 ous genus, also peculiar to North America; none of his genus, 
 or family, arrive earlier than he, unless, indeed, it may be 
 the Yellow Red-poll or Palm Warbler, which is exceedingly 
 rare here; the warblers of the Old World, among which 
 Robin-red-breast and the far-famed Nightingale are con- 
 spicuous, being much more closely allied to our Kinglets 
 than to the great family of their American namesakes. 
 The female is similar, but not so bright, and the young are 
 brownish instead of slaty, the yellow markings being quite 
 dim. This is one of our most beautiful, as also one of our 
 most common, warblers. Appearing in the Middle States, 
 and in Southern New England, about the 20th of April, it 
 passes to the north in considerable numbers for a month or 
 more, returning southward again late in October or in 
 November. 
 
 The Yellow-rumped Warbler, or Myrtle Bird, breeds from 
 Northern New England to the arctic regions, and northwest- 
 ward to Alaska and Washington Territory. The nest, in a 
 bush or tree, often an evergreen, and but a few feet from 
 the ground, is about four inches in external and two in in- 
 ternal diameter, and composed of weed-stalks, vegetable 
 fibers, rootlets or grasses, often lined with feathers or hair. 
 One before me, from Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, 
 
THE YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER. 203 
 
 taken June 16th, and pretty well incubated, was found in a 
 spruce bush, about three feet from the ground, and con- 
 tained two eggs. Of about the usual external and internal 
 diameters, and quite deep some 2.50 inches externally 
 it is composed entirely of fine bleached grasses, and lined 
 with a continuous and thick felt of dark-red cow's hair, 
 such as is seen in large quantities about the stumps in 
 spring, being rubbed off by the cattle in the first sloughing 
 of their thick coats. Thus the nest has a very unique 
 appearance almost straw-color outside, and uniform dark- 
 red or bright-brown inside. Whether of weed-stalks, vege- 
 table fibers, rootlets or grasses, it would seem that the nest 
 of this species is generally quite homogeneous, that is, 
 made externally, at least, of the one kind of material. 
 The eggs of the above nest are of the usual measurement 
 .72X .54, grayish-white, pretty heavily marked about the 
 large end, and specked all over with dark-brown and neutral. 
 Though often getting well up among the tall trees, and tak- 
 ing somewhat extended excursions into the air after insect 
 prey, the Myrtle Bird is not so active on the wing as are some 
 of the Warblers. In spring it has a somewhat loud and pleas- 
 ing warble, tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee, and so 
 resembling a musical twitter. Indeed, I have often found it 
 difficult, when visiting the breeding grounds, to distinguish 
 it from the song of the Snow Bird. In its migrations in 
 the beautiful days of autumn, this Warbler is sometimes 
 wont to lisp its song softly. Though this bird breeds so far 
 north, its nest has been found in the Southern States and in 
 the West Indies; and while it winters in the Southern States, 
 and even in the tropics, it is found regularly in the same 
 season in the Middle States, and even in Southern New 
 England. There is a closely-allied western variety or spe- 
 cies, called Audubon's Warbler. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LATE IN APRIL. 
 
 ON the morning of the 21st of April (1880), as I am riding 
 along the highway by the upland meadows, I spy a 
 Sparrow Hawk (Falco sparverius), perched on a tall dried 
 mullein-stalk, close to the road. He keeps his perch till I 
 am not more than four rods from him, partly because he is 
 the tamest of all the Hawks, but more especially because I 
 am riding. Flying off in an irregular zigzag manner, and 
 not very high, he alights in a small, solitary tree in the open 
 field. I stop to study him. Presently he starts out from 
 the tree, flying in his somewhat tipsy manner for a few 
 rods, giving the impression that he is not after anything 
 in particular, when he suddenly hovers gracefully for a few 
 seconds, and retires to the tree again. Evidently he had it 
 in mind to capture some little creature within the range of 
 his keen eye, but the chase did not turn out to suit him, so 
 he has concluded to await the next opportunity. In less than 
 a minute he sallies forth again, barely hovers, and drops to 
 the ground, returning to the tree with some small prey, 
 which, as I turn the glass upon him, I discover to be a field 
 mouse. Holding it under his claw, he tears it in pieces and 
 swallows it with a keen appetite, and in a few minutes more 
 is off again in a similar manner, this time returning with an ele- 
 gant little snake; which, after munching it pretty thoroughly 
 with his toothed bill, and stretching it out several times 
 
THE SPARRO W HA WK. 205 
 
 with bill and claw, he swallows, with vigorous jerks of the 
 head, nearly whole. Again he is off, and after hovering 
 several times, spends some time on the ground, devouring 
 something as I can plainly see by his actions, made clear by 
 the glass; probably he is now varying his diet with some 
 kind of insects, of which he consumes great numbers, 
 especially such orthoptera as are most noxious to the hus- 
 bandman. Remaining now longer than usual on his perch, 
 he jerks his tail every few seconds, as if decidedly impatient 
 of this long quiet. Now he flies almost towards me, and 
 dashing into a thicket by the road-side, emerges with a 
 small Sparrow in his clutches, thus proving himself true to 
 his name. The flight is within close range of a shot-gun, 
 and, much as this elegant and useful little Falcon merits 
 human protection, I reflect that all things even birds are 
 made for man, and so drawing the lock on him bring him 
 down, the Field Sparrow still in his clutches. It is a male, 
 some 10 inches long and 21 inches in extent (the smallest 
 of our Hawks); the bill is particularly pointed and toothed; 
 the top of his crown is reddish-chestnut, bordered with 
 slaty, mixed with black; a streak from below the eye down 
 the side of the throat, one across the tips of the ear- 
 feathers, a spot on the side of the neck, and a bordering of 
 the slaty behind the neck, black making seven black 
 marks about the head; back and scapulars reddish-brown, 
 crossed with broken lines of black; wings slaty with black 
 spots; the primaries dusky, with white spots on the inner 
 vanes; tail reddish-brown, with a broad, sub- terminal band 
 of black and a slight tip of white, the outer feathers being 
 marked with black and white; under parts reddish-white, 
 with a few roundish spots of black mostly towards the 
 sides; bill, blue; cere and legs, yellow. The female of this 
 species is about an inch longer; the chestnut-red on the 
 
'206 THE SPARROW HAWK. 
 
 crown being streaked with slaty; the upper parts, includ- 
 ing the tail, wholly reddish-brown, heavily cross-streaked 
 with black; the under parts yellowish-white, streaked with 
 light-brown; the chin, femoral feathers, and vent, clear; 
 otherwise, like the male. The young are said to be covered 
 with a whitish-down at first, but soon approximate the 
 colors of the mature birds. 
 
 The dashing attack of our little Falcon, through thickets 
 and along hedges, is not only upon Sparrows, but upon the 
 smaller birds in general. Not only the elegant Bluebird, 
 the stately Cedar Bird, and the noisy self-conceited Cat- 
 bird, may become its prey, but even the Robin, the Brown 
 Thrush, and the Blue Jay birds almost as large as itself. 
 Unlike the true Hawks, and some other species of its family, 
 it does not give a long chase in the open field after its prey, 
 but, in strict pursuit, stealthily seeks the covert of bushes or 
 hedge-rows, or it pounces upon the innocent passer-by una- 
 wares. Seldom, indeed, does it affect the barn-yard, and 
 then only to pick up a stray chick too remote for parental 
 interference; and since by far the greater part of its fare 
 consists of noxious vermin, it merits as indeed it often 
 obtains the sympathy and protection of man. 
 
 The Sparrow Hawk generally reaches New York from 
 the south about the middle of April or before, sometimes 
 even as early as March, but becomes most common early in 
 May, when the flood-tide of the migration of the little birds 
 is fairly set in. Then it may frequently be seen about the 
 fields and pastures, or even passing leisurely over the 
 crowded town, with a peculiar butterfly locomotion; and 
 may always be distinguished from the Sharp-shinned Hawk, 
 so near it in size, by its long-pointed wings, the Sharp-shin 
 having rather short and broad wings. Courtship, which 
 in the case of young males is said to be much varied 
 
THE SPARROW HAWK. 207 
 
 and protracted in its antics, begins very soon; and about the 
 latter part of May or early in June the eggs are laid. As 
 this bird breeds, however, from Mexico to Hudson's Bay, 
 and from Maine to California, its time of nidification varies 
 considerably according to locality. It is well understood 
 that it generally breeds in some cavity or deserted 
 Woodpecker's hole, pretty well up in a tree or stub often 
 a solitary one in the open field; and that its eggs are laid 
 on the pulverized debris, with, perhaps, the merest litter of 
 some strawy material; but it may adopt the old nest 
 of a Hawk or Crow, may seek out a hole in the wall of some 
 unfinished stone building, accept the old nest of the 
 Gray Squirrel; or, as in " the canons of the eastern range of 
 the Humboldt Mountains," may find a convenience for its 
 nest "in hollows of limestone cliffs"; or may even find its 
 way into an apartment by the dove-cote. 
 
 The eggs, generally five, some 1.32 X 1.13, are brownish- 
 white, specked all over, but often more about the large end, 
 with reddish-brown; but not infrequently the ground is 
 white or pinkish-white, with large blotches and intermedi- 
 ate specks of light red all over the eggs having a peculiar 
 reddish appearance. Rarely, they are said to be whitish, with- 
 out any marking. 
 
 Unless very seriously disturbed, these Hawks occupy the 
 same nesting place from year to year, the male sharing in 
 incubation. They defend even their eggs with dashing 
 nights, snapping of the bill, and indignant screams at the 
 intruder. The young, brought out from the shell in about 
 15 or 16 days, are fed on grasshoppers, crickets and cater- 
 pillars at first; but afterwards are nourished by small rep- 
 tiles, birds and quadrupeds. At about six weeks of age 
 they quit the nest, and when two months old they shift for 
 themselves. This Hawk accepts no food but that of its 
 
208 THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. 
 
 own capture, and will even reject such as is infected with 
 parasites. It may go far beyond our southern limits in 
 winter, but it is not found in the highest latitudes of North 
 America in summer. 
 
 THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. 
 
 On reaching a beautiful large pond, an enlargement of 
 Oak Orchard Creek, in the edge of the wilderness of Tona- 
 wanda Swamp, I seat myself behind a small screen of rails 
 and bits of board in the corner of the fence, for observation. 
 It is a beautiful sunny day, with a remarkably clear sky for 
 the month of April. About ten o'clock in the forenoon a 
 small flock of Blue-winged Teals (Querquedula discors) fly 
 down the narrow, glassy stream, and alight on the farther 
 side of the pond. How straightforward and swiftly they 
 fly, their narrow-pointed wings beating the air with a grace- 
 fulness and rapidity truly wonderful. Generally the Teals 
 reconnoiter the place in cautious, circling flights, before 
 alighting; but this is a very retired spot, where this flock 
 has no doubt fed undisturbed for some time; hence, with- 
 out this ordinary precaution, they drop gently down with 
 rigidly expanded wings, and, having glanced about them, 
 soon immerse their heads in search of the naia s flexilis and 
 other species of the pond-weed family luxuriating in these 
 quiet waters. Occasionally they throw up their feet and 
 hinder parts in feeding, but generally float quietly on the 
 water, simply plunging the head and neck. Every now and 
 then they change their spot for feeding, swimming so grace- 
 fully and rapidly that they seem almost like an apparition 
 on the smooth surface. The tranquility of the place on this 
 beautiful sunny morning is perfect. There is apparently 
 not the slightest cause for the suspicion of danger, and the 
 little flock of Blue-wings seem completely off their guard. 
 
THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. 209 
 
 I cannot detect any vigilance whatever on their part. They 
 are too far off for a shot, and this I do not particularly 
 regret, for I am not a pot-hunter, nor a mere anatomic nat- 
 uralist. I simply like to know what transpires in such remote 
 and quiet nooks, and how these elegant little Ducks behave 
 in their undisturbed haunts. I note the elegant form and deli- 
 cately-penciled coloring of the males in this little flock of Blue- 
 winged Teals. One of the smallest of our Ducks, it is only 16 
 inches long and 31 in extent of wings, with small head and 
 bill and a slender neck; his crown, with a narrow line down 
 the hind neck is black; there is a white crescent in front of the 
 eye; the head is a purplish glossy drab; the back and scapulars 
 deep dusky, with concentric wavy lines and tips of reddish; 
 back deep dusky, edged with drab; longer scapulars and the 
 tertiaries, greenish-black with medium line of red; wing- 
 coverts ultra-marine, with a line of white between them and 
 the glossy green secondaries forming the speculum; the 
 dusky tail has a white spot on each side, with the under- 
 coverts black; breast and under parts reddish, elegantly 
 spotted with black. The female, about an inch shorter 
 than the male, has the plumage generally dark brown, mar- 
 gined with brownish- white; the cheeks and throat whitish; 
 wing-coverts not quite so brightly ultra-marine 'as in the 
 male; the dusky-brown feathers of the under parts have a 
 brownish-white streak or spot in the center. The female 
 does not have the white crescent in front of the eye. The 
 young are like the female, and the old males return in the 
 fall migrations without the sexual markings. 
 
 Lingering with us even into May, and returning early in 
 September, this Teal is one of the last of all the migratory 
 Ducks to leave us, and about the first to come back from its 
 more northerly breeding grounds. Though extending far 
 north, even to Alaska, in the breeding season, they have 
 14 
 
210 THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. 
 
 been known to rear their young within our limits, as well as 
 in all suitable places intervening. Being a vegetable feeder, 
 and a fresh-water bird, it avoids not only the salt water, but 
 also the cold, clear, rock-bounded waters of the northern 
 interior, resorting to the mud-flats of great rivers, the quiet, 
 marshy borders of our lakes, sluggish streams, and ponds 
 abounding in vegetable growths. In late fall and early 
 spring it is said to be abundant in the flooded rice-field of 
 the south. Except in the coldest weather, Audubon testi- 
 fied to its great abundance about the mouths of the Missis- 
 sippi in winter; while Wilson speaks of large, dense flocks 
 in their migrations, on the muddy shoals bordering the Dela- 
 ware. Swimming or flying, the birds keep so close to- 
 gether in the flock that great numbers may be taken at a 
 single shot. I have seen them scouring the shores of Lake 
 Ontario in great flocks in September, so densely massed in 
 flight as to appear almost like a cloud, and passing with the 
 swiftness of the Wild Pigeon. At such times their flight is 
 truly elegant, the lustrous light-blue of their wings glisten- 
 ing like polished steel in the sunshine. In spring, one may 
 occasionally catch their soft, lisping notes. Being sensitive 
 to the cold for birds of their kind, like our delicate birds of 
 song, they often pass portions of the winter even in the 
 tropical regions. After the manner of the Ducks in gen- 
 eral, the Teals are wedded in the latter part of winter while 
 yet in the south. 
 
 The nest of this species is on the ground on some prairie, 
 or in some marsh, generally near the water, is made of dried 
 grasses, sedges and weeds, and lined with down. The eggs, 
 some eight or more, about 1.75 X 1.31, are very smooth, and 
 of a dull, creamy white. 
 
 Being a vegetable feeder, the flesh of the Blue-winged 
 Teal is tender and luscious, and is therefore a great desid- 
 
THE. GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 211 
 
 eratum for the table. West of the Rocky Mountains it is 
 replaced by its near relative, the Cinnamon Teal. 
 
 THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 
 
 Tagging after the little flock of Blue-wings at a distance 
 of a few yards, like some stray and unwelcome relative, was 
 a solitary male of the Green-winged Teal, his flight being 
 very similar, and his place of alighting only a few rods dis- 
 tant and much nearer the shore. Excepting certain aquatic 
 insects and minute mollusks, the food of this species seems 
 to be nearly terrestrial consisting of the seeds of weeds 
 and grasses, berries and small nuts. Hence it feeds in the 
 very edge of the water, floating deeply, and plunging the 
 head and neck, and not infrequently stepping out on the 
 land, where it walks quite gracefully. In the air and on the 
 water its movements are very similar to those of the Blue- 
 wing; and, except that it is rather hardier and more north- 
 erly, reaching us somewhat later in autumn and leaving us 
 earlier in spring, its habitat and migrations are almost the 
 same. It, too, for the most part, avoids the sea and the 
 clear, rocky lake regions, preferring such flooded fields, 
 sedgy streams, ponds and lakes as bring it in contact with 
 its favorite vegetable growths, especially such bodies of 
 water as abound in the wild rice. 
 
 Second only to the Wood Duck in beauty is the male of 
 this elegant species. Some fifteen inches long, and twenty- 
 four in extent, the head and upper part of the neck are 
 bright chestnut-brown, the throat dusky, and a patch from 
 before the eye to the nape, glossy green; the pendent crest 
 being brown above and black below; back, tail and greater 
 part of the wings, dusky; the speculum, elegant glossy 
 green, bounded with jet-black above and below; several of 
 the scapulars edged with black; epaulets white; the rest 
 
212 WILSON'S SNIPE. 
 
 of the upper parts most elegantly white and black penciled; 
 breast vinous ruddy, finely spotted with black; under parts 
 buffy white, with patches of clear white and coal black 
 about the tail. The female has the entire head and neck 
 dingy white, speckled with black, the breast grayish-brown, 
 spotted with darker; the back deep brown, crossed with 
 broad, wavy lines of brownish-white. 
 
 Having thoroughly observed this solitary Green-winged 
 Teal, I rise to my feet, when he takes alarm, rising from 
 the water at a single bound, and coursing through the air 
 amidst the tall tree-tops with most surprising rapidity, is 
 almost instantly followed by the Blue-wings. 
 
 The nidification of this species is precisely like that of 
 the latter, except that the eggs are a trifle larger, about 
 1.90 x 1.32. The nest may be found from the northern 
 borders of the United States northward. 
 
 WILSON'S SNIPE. 
 
 It was the evening of the 22d of April (1880). All the 
 afternoon I had heard firing of guns in the wild meadows 
 of Tonawanda Swamp. As twilight approached and the 
 firing ceased, the air became resonant with the vernal chant 
 of Wilson's Snipe (Gallinago wilsoni). In every direction 
 the birds might be seen, describing their ascending and 
 somewhat spiral curves with that nervous beat of the wings, 
 so peculiar to themselves, while others, too high to be dis- 
 cerned in the dusky air, added not a little to the general 
 vocal effect. This song of the Snipe, characteristic of the 
 breeding season, or even of the entire spring, and heard 
 for the most part in the early morning, or in the evening 
 from twilight till after dark, is at once striking and strongly 
 differentiated Beginning in subdued tones, somewhat 
 like the sounds produced by the oblique strokes of a Pigeon's 
 
WILSON'S SNIPE. 213 
 
 wings in alighting, the simple notes are uttered rapidly, 
 and through an ascending scale of nearly an octave in the 
 shortest chromatic steps, the mellow tones being rather 
 loudest in the middle of the strain and gradually softening 
 to the closing and highest note, the whole performance 
 being after the manner of a swell in music. The notes 
 might be readily represented by the repetition of the sylla- 
 ble, koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo- 
 koo; and though not decidedly musical, they have in them 
 the tenderness and inspiration of spring, readily associating 
 themselves with April showers, balmy atmospheres, spring- 
 ing grass, and that northern harbinger of spring-flora 
 the blooming amelanchier m 
 
 Here and there, on the evening referred to, one might see 
 the Snipes alighting dropping slowly and gracefully down 
 on a falling curve, their wings extending upward at an 
 angle of some ninety degrees. Generally they disappeared 
 among the bleached grass and sedges of the previous year 
 standing in several inches of water; but occasionally they 
 perched on old stubs, making an odd figure among the 
 gay Red-wings just greeting the newly-arrived females with 
 the merriest and sweetest of Blackbird songs. 
 
 How vividly I recall the odd antics of the Snipes in the wild 
 meadow on the old paternal farm in Nova Scotia. How grati- 
 fying to childhood curiosity was it to hide away in the alder 
 bushes and watch him as he took his morning or evening 
 repast. See him walk almost run with nimble, easy steps; 
 his long bill schnepfe which, in the old Saxon language, 
 gave the bird its name, pointing obliquely forward and 
 downward, and his short tail somewhat thrown up. Now 
 he probes the soft mud, pushing his limber bill down half 
 its length or more, and testing almost every square inch 
 for quite a distance around, the delicate external membrane 
 
214 WILSON'S SNIPE. 
 
 of that strongly specialized instrument, well supplied with 
 the most sensitive nerves, readily detecting the presence of 
 earth-worms, or such tender roots of plants as are agreeable 
 to the bird's taste. How queer he looks now, standing in that 
 half-crouched position, as if intently listening; or, how 
 pleasing as he stands at ease, one foot raised, and his back- 
 ward eyes peering weirdly. Or note him as he approaches 
 the coy female half-hidden in the faded grass so near her 
 own color. Bending forward with neck shortened and 
 curved till his breast and the tip of his bill nearly 
 touch the ground, the tips of his loosened and droop- 
 ing wings dragging at his sides, and his elevated tail 
 spread out like a quaint little fan, he struts before her as gay 
 as a Turkey-cock in miniature. Should anything alarm him, 
 he will scamper away quite a distance into the thick grasses 
 and sedges; or, if he be hard pressed, he may take wing, 
 and, rising a few feet into the air and emitting his charac- 
 teristic ."How-Ike" fly in a nervous zigzag manner for 
 a few rods, and quickly drop out of sight. This short and 
 rapid flight is the supreme moment for a shot. And if 
 anything will send one's blood tingling to the tips of 
 fingers and toes, it is to drop this noted creature of the 
 bog and fen just as he gets fairly under way. 
 
 Many a time in boyhood, as I searched for the cows in the 
 wild meadow close by the stream meandering through the 
 alders, did the Snipe leave her nest just under my feet. 
 Merely glancing at the warm, grayish-brown eggs heavily 
 blotched with umber the four pear-shaped objects lying 
 with the small ends together in a mere depression of the 
 ground on a few leaves or dried grasses I would start after 
 the artful bird in her moods of distress. Surely thinking 
 her sick or wounded and ready to die, as she tumbled and 
 fluttered about on the ground only a few feet from me, 
 
WILSON'S SNIPE. 215 
 
 wheezing and moaning in the most distressed manner, I 
 would scramble and strive to my utmost to capture her; 
 but after decoying me a few rods from the nest she would 
 soon recover and skulk away into the bushes, leaving me to 
 my own cogitations, as I stood some half-way between her 
 missing self and the nest now wholly lost sight of. 
 
 It would seem that only the female attends to the duties of 
 incubation, the male being cognizable in the vicinity at all 
 times of day, and sometimes giving his aerial serenade as 
 late as eleven o'clock at night. The eggs are about 1.60 X 
 1.12, the yellowish or grayish-olive color varying consider- 
 ably in different clutches; the dark umber and obscure 
 spots and blotches extending more or less all over the shell, 
 but thickening and enlarging at the large end. The young, 
 of a grayish-yellow, heavily streaked with several shades of 
 brown, according to the precocious habits of the infant 
 Waders, leave the nest as soon as they are out of the shell, 
 feeding on the insects found in mud, moss and meadow- 
 grass, until their tender bills are firm enough to probe the 
 soft ooze. 
 
 As is the case with the . European Snipe, which ours so 
 closely resembles, Wilson's Snipe is one of the most fasci- 
 nating of game-birds to the sportsman. Mark this happy 
 Specimen of the human race, as with hip-boots, trusty gun, 
 full accoutrements, and faithful pointer, he creeps stealthily 
 through the tall sedges! The dog alone has that high 
 sensibility of the olfactory nerves which can take the subtle 
 scent of this noted game-bird, but his master is all eye and 
 ear to see in what direction the bird will lie to the dog; and 
 so when the bird is put up he is ready to take it in its quick, 
 short, and rather irregular flight, with that ready skill 
 which consummates the pleasure of a genuine sportsman. 
 And if he bring home his game-bag well filled with 
 
216 THE LARGE YELLOWSHANKS. 
 
 Snipe, he considers the hardest day's tramp well re- 
 warded. 
 
 The Snipe is 11 inches long, bill 2^ or more, grooved on 
 the sides, enlarged at the end, and though smooth in life, 
 becomes marked like a thimble when dried. The crown is 
 deep brown, with median line of brownish-white; sides of 
 the head light reddish-brown, with a dark brown streak 
 from the nostril to the eye, and a whitish spot above, and 
 one in front of the eye; upper parts deep brown, specked, 
 spotted and streaked with reddish-brown and white; wings 
 dusky brown; fore-neck and breast brown and buffy- white, 
 spotted and waved; tail chestnut-red, marked with black 
 and white; under parts white; sides barred with black. 
 The female is a little lighter colored than the male. 
 
 THE LARGE YELLOWSHANKS. 
 
 Firing into a flock of Rusty Grakles, gleaning food from 
 the ground bordering a flooded field in the vicinity of Ton- 
 awanda Swamp, on the 30th of April (1880), I roused a flock 
 of some fifty of the large Yellowshanks (Totanus melanoleu- 
 cus). They rose in the most excited manner only a few 
 rods from me, emitting their loud whistling notes, cree-oo, 
 cree-oo, cree-oo, the volume of which, coming from the whole 
 flock, might well alarm all the feathered tribes in the 
 neighborhood, thus making good their reputation among 
 gunners as Telltales, or Tattlers. With the long bill and 
 neck stretched forward, the long legs extended backward, 
 and the long-pointed wings forming gull-like arcs in their 
 rapid, steady beating, this flock, circling swiftly over the 
 field several times and then fading out in the distance, 
 makes one think of the sea and its multitudes of water-fowl. 
 
 Knowing that these birds will soon be back, I hide behind 
 the fence, ready to give them a salutation. In about half 
 
THE LARGE YELLOWSHANKS. 217 
 
 an hour they reappear like black specks against the gray 
 clouds. In a few seconds I can define them clearly above 
 the tall forest, and can hear the clangor of their peculiar 
 voices; after circling several times over the inundated 
 field they alight about three gun-shots off, each pair of 
 wings pointing straight upward for a few moments, as if to 
 be sure that every feather is in place before folding. For a 
 few moments they glance around to assure themselves that 
 all is safe. Then wading about in a hurried manner, half- 
 way to their bodies in water, with much balancing and 
 vibrating of the body and graceful darting of the head in 
 various directions, they seek their food of aquatic insects, 
 worms, minute mollusks and tiny fishes. Creeping along 
 stealthily behind the fence till I arrive within shot-range, I 
 wing several with one charge. The flock, rising and scatter- 
 ing for a few moments, as if disconcerted, come together 
 and hover over their wounded comrades as thickly as wings 
 can vibrate among each other, calling to them most pit- 
 eously. Strange to say, I pointed my gun at the hovering 
 cloud, and who can tell what might have been the conse- 
 quences had it not failed to go off. This hovering over 
 wounded companions, common to various kinds of water- 
 birds which go in flocks, is a most affecting manifestation 
 of fellow-sympathy; but it is very fatal to them, giving the 
 rarest opportunity to the second barrel of the sportsman. 
 The wounded Yellowshanks push their slender shins 
 through the water with surprising rapidity, make a fair 
 attempt at swimming, and put their heads under the water 
 when closely pursued, but do not understand the art of 
 diving. I learned from the people in the neighborhood that 
 these birds had occupied this feeding ground continuously 
 for several weeks, and that they did not remain long after 
 this. Winteiing in the Southern States and in the West 
 
218 THE LARGE YELLOW SHANKS. 
 
 Indies, and breeding from Nova Scotia northward, it is 
 merely a passenger through these middle districts, scarcely 
 seen after the first of May, but returning already in August 
 or even in July. Stray birds sometimes linger so late in 
 Massachusetts as to receive the name, Winter Yellow-legs; 
 and I have known them to be shot on the south shore of Lake 
 Ontario as late as November 19th, when the Old Squaw Ducks 
 had already arrived ; they are not uncommon on the sea-coast, 
 but being rather fresh-water birds, are more abundant in 
 the interior. When in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, a few weeks 
 since, I saw in the collection of Mr. Doan, a taxidermist of 
 that place, the young of this species in the down, along with 
 the parent, both having been shot and mounted by that gen- 
 tleman. He procured them at Chebogue Point, near the 
 city. They probably breed more or less in the marshes 
 about Chebogue and Tusket River, in the southwest end of 
 the Province. Strange to say, the nest of this species has 
 recently been reported from New Jersey. 
 
 Audubon says: "When in Labrador I found these birds 
 breeding, two or three pairs together, in the delightful 
 quiet valleys bounded by rugged hills of considerable 
 height, and watered by limpid brooks. These valleys 
 exhibit, in June and July, the richest verdure; luxuriant 
 grasses of various species growing here and there in sep- 
 arate beds, many yards in extent, while the intervening 
 spaces, which are comparatively bare, are of that boggy 
 nature so congenial to the habits of these species. In one 
 of these pleasing retreats my son found a pair of Telltales 
 in the month of June, both of which were procured. The 
 female was found to contain a full-formed egg, and some 
 more of the size of peas. The eggs are four, pyriform, 2.25 
 long and 1.60 in their greatest breadth, pale greenish-yellow, 
 marked with blotches of umber and pale purplish-gray." 
 
THE SMALL YELLOW SHANKS. 
 
 The Large Yellowshanks are said to breed very 
 commonly on Anticosti. 
 
 About 14 inches long and 25 in extent of wings, bill 2.25 
 and of dark horn-color; color above, ashy-brown or dusky, 
 each feather being edged with white and sub-margined 
 with waves or spots of black; secondaries and tertiaries 
 edged with alternate spots of white and black; head and 
 neck streaked with dusky and white; spot in front of the eye, 
 throat and under parts, white; upper and lower tail- 
 coverts white, crossed with wavy lines of dusky; the bright 
 yellow legs and feet, together with its size, well character- 
 izing the species. 
 
 THE SMALL YELLOWSHANKS. 
 
 Scarcely more than a miniature of the above is the Small 
 Yellow-shanks (Totanus flavipes). Being less than 11 inches 
 long and about 20 in extent, it is very perceptibly smaller; 
 but, except that it is a little darker, it is about the same in 
 form, color and marking, so that the description of the 
 former species answers sufficiently for this, and it has about 
 the same diet, habitat, and habits in general. Audubon 
 reported it as breeding commonly about Pictou, Nova 
 Scotia; his friend, Professor MacCulloch, describes the nest 
 " as placed among the grass on the edges of the rivers and 
 large ponds of the interior." According to Dr. Coues, 
 " the eggs are deposited on the ground^ in a little depres- 
 sion, lined with a few dried leaves or grasses. They are 
 three or four in number, narrowly and pointedly pyriform, 
 measuring from 1.58x1.18-1.78x1.15. * * * 
 
 The ground is a clear clay-color, sometimes tending more 
 to buffy or creamy, sometimes rather to light brown. v The 
 marking is bold and heavy, but presents the customary 
 great diversity, some eggs being very heavily splashed with 
 
220 THE SMALL YELLOWSHANKS. 
 
 blotches, confluent about the larger end, while others have 
 smaller clean-edged spots all over the surface. The mark- 
 ings are rich umber-brown, often tending to chocolate, 
 sometimes almost blackish. The paler shell-markings are 
 usually numerous and noticeable." 
 
 On the following morning, I saw a flock of these Lesser 
 Yellowshanks scouring the same flooded fields above re- 
 ferred to. After describing several of their elegant circles, 
 each keeping his place in the finely-ordered ranks, they 
 lighted in the shallow water near a thicket. I crept around 
 into the thicket, and crawling almost on hands and knees 
 behind a brush-fence, when I supposed myself near enough 
 for a good shot, and was peering cautiously around in order 
 to take aim from behind my screen, before I could get my 
 eye on one of the number I heard the ominous whistle 
 the signal of danger and away the little creatures were 
 careering beyond shot-range. I rose and watched the flock 
 till they were out of sight, studying that whistle which had 
 been given by the sentinel so well on the alert, and which 
 they all seemed so to comprehend in an instant. To this 
 moment I can feel in my eye-balls the quick and simultane- 
 ous beat of their wings. 
 
 Once, at Barnegat Inlet (N. J.), late in August, as I stood 
 on the piazza of the club-house with some half-dozen others, 
 a flock of these birds appeared. Some one whistled in 
 imitation of their note, and at once they turned and flew 
 directly towards us. By the time they came within shot- 
 range, some one had brought out a gun, and giving them 
 two charges, dropped quite a number of them. They are 
 gentle, winsome little creatures, and well deserve to be held 
 in favor by all lovers of nature. Thev are not so common 
 here as the larger species. 
 
THE RUSTY GRAKLE. 221 
 
 THE RUSTY GRAKLE. 
 
 On the first day of May, 1880, as I stood on an iron 
 bridge crossing a sluggish stream of Tonawanda Swamp, I 
 saw the Rusty Grakles (Scolecophagus ferrugineus) constantly 
 trooping by in immense numbers. They were moving in a 
 very leisurely manner, immense detachments constantly 
 alighting. The large tract of low land, covered with the 
 alder, the willow and the osier, seemed alive with them. 
 The sombre wave, thus constantly rolling on, must have 
 carried hundreds of thousands over this highway in a day. 
 Occasionally they would alight to feed in the low, wet fields 
 in the vicinity, making the earth black with their numbers. 
 Their notes, or what might be called their songs, were 
 almost deafening resembling, indeed, the vocal perform- 
 ances of the Red-wings, but far less musical, being more of 
 a sharp, metallic clatter, interspersed with loud squealing,, 
 and almost destitute of the liquid, warbling notes so pecul- 
 iar to that species. On being alarmed, either in the fields 
 or in the bushes, these Grakles would rise in a dense, black 
 cloud, and with a rumbling sound like that of distant 
 thunder. Their flight, which ordinarily is not very high, is 
 straightforward, with a steady beat of the wings, after the 
 manner of our Blackbirds in general. To one who has 
 merely met these birds in their rusty coats, as they visit the 
 fields in moderate flocks on their way south in October or 
 perhaps as early as the last of September, or as late as the 
 first of November, they would scarcely be recognizable on 
 these gala-days of their northward migration, so almost 
 completely have they doffed the rust-color; the male being 
 of an elegant glossy black, with the merest touch here and 
 there of the rusty fringe; and even the female being of a fine 
 brown or slaty-black, and having but a moderate garniture 
 of this distinguishable edging on her nuptial plumage. The 
 
222 THE RUSTY GRAKLE. 
 
 Rusty Grakle generally goes northward through this region 
 early in April, or even in March. Perhaps these have been 
 detained, or have loitered by the way, and are now advanc- 
 ing with a somewhat forced march along their swampy 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 Spending the winter in the Southern and even in the 
 Middle States in a few cases as far north as the lower 
 Connecticut Valley the Rusty Grakle breeds from north- 
 ern New England, northward through Labrador, westward 
 to Alaska, and even as far north as 69; Kansas, Nebraska 
 and Dakota being its western limit. Like the Red-wing, it 
 is an inhabitant of the swamp, and of low, wet regions, 
 its food being insects, berries and small mollusks. The 
 nests, which are very common in Nova Scotia, where this 
 bird is called the Black Robin, are generally found in spruce 
 bushes or larch groves, about wild meadows or in wet 
 places; so that the memory of my childhood days associates 
 the vigorous chuck and the metallic vibrations of the song 
 of this species with these elegant Conifercz. Mr. E. A. 
 Samuels found the nests "on the Magalloway River, in 
 Maine," placed in "the low alders overhanging the water." 
 Audubon sometimes found them " among the tall reeds of 
 the Cat-tails, or Typha, to which they were attached by 
 interweaving the leaves of the plant with the grasses and 
 strips of bark of which they were externally composed." 
 
 The nest is bulky, firm and deep, composed outwardly of 
 small sticks, mosses and dried grasses, strongly cemented 
 together with mud, and well lined with fine, dried grasses. 
 The eggs, deposited early in May, in Nova Scotia, where I 
 used to regard five as the usual number, though four are 
 occasionally found, are about 1.03 x .^, of a pale, grayish- 
 green, somewhat heavily marked with several shades of 
 brown and a dull lilac, and scratched with black. As in the 
 
THE YELLOW WARBLER. 223 
 
 case of the Red-wings, the marking varies very considerably 
 in different sets. I have seen the young abroad in Nova 
 Scotia by the 7th of June. 
 
 The Rusty Grakle is a little more than 9.00 long, 
 and some 14.50 in extent. Male, in spring, glossy black, 
 some of the feathers, especially underneath, edged with a 
 rusty-brown; female, slaty or rusty-brown above, rusty and 
 grayish mixed below, with a pale stripe above the eye. 
 
 The young birds are quite brown in their first dress, and 
 in all stages the species is characterized by the milk-white 
 iris, noticeable at quite a distance. In the Rocky Moun- 
 tain and California regions this species is replaced by 
 Brewer's Blackbird, or the Blue-headed Grakle (Scolecophagus 
 cyanocephalus), a bird of very similar habits. The two species 
 generally mingle in their southern migration along the in- 
 terior. 
 
 THE YELLOW WARBLER. 
 
 In the last week of April or the first week of May, as the 
 warm currents of a spring atmosphere are wooing into 
 activity every germ of field and forest, the Yellow Warbler 
 (Dendrceca (estiva) reaches us in immense numbers. You 
 may find it in the forest, in thickets and slashings, quite 
 as numerous in the orchard, and in the shrubbery about 
 the garden and the front-yard, but most especially does 
 it love the willows by the brook, with the yellow spray of 
 which its golden tints are particularly in harmony. 
 
 In dress and in song it is equally conspicuous. About 
 the size of the Chipping Sparrow, some 5 inches long, 
 greenish-yellow above, and golden-yellow streaked with 
 red beneath, it is unmistakable to the eye as it moves 
 among the opening leaves and blossoms. In this locality, 
 we have no other really yellow bird except the male Gold- 
 finch, and he is readily distinguished by his black crown, 
 
224 THE YELLOW WARBLER. 
 
 wings and tail, and by his unique voice and manners in 
 general. The song of the Yellow, Blue-eyed Yellow, 
 Golden, or Summer Warbler for it is known by all these 
 common names may be represented by the syllables, wee- 
 chee-wee-chee-wee-chee; or, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweetie, uttered in 
 sprightly, whistling tones. 
 
 It is awakening and cheerful, and therefore in delightful 
 harmony with its time. No mere promise of spring, like 
 the Phcebe, the Robin, or the Bluebird, the appearance of 
 the Golden Warbler is synchronous with spring itself, and 
 inseparably associated with the most genial sunshine and the 
 fragrance of flowers. The very thought of his melody brings 
 back the fruit blossoms and the merry play of garden-mak- 
 ing. Unlike all the rest of the Warblers, that seem to go and 
 come wholly at the bidding of the sylvan deities, this Blue- 
 eyed Beauty seeks the society of man as well, and may 
 confide his nest to the shrubbery about the walls of human 
 dwellings; aye, he will even be pleased to accept the help of 
 human hands in building that nest constructing it with the 
 materials placed on the clothes-line or on the grass for him. 
 A nest before me, the building of which was thus aided by 
 young friends, is wholly of batting, except a little lining of 
 vegetable down, dried grass and horse-hair, and so looks like 
 a snow-ball or a bunch of wool. This Warbler's nest may be 
 found in the woods, the swamp, the orchard, the garden or 
 the front-yard, and is generally placed in the upright fork of 
 a bush, often stuck into the spray anywhere, rarely on a hori- 
 zontal limb. Firmly built of various gray fibrous and downy 
 materials, it is interlaced and bound together with dried 
 grasses or fine rootlets, sometimes ornamented like bead- 
 work with the fallen catkins of the butternut or black 
 walnut, and is lined with the down of the thistle, the willow, 
 or the reddish wool-like covering of the unrolling fronds of 
 
THE CATBIRD. 225 
 
 various ferns. Thus the nest is grayish outside and silken- 
 white, or delicate reddish, inside. The walls are thick and 
 firm, and the lining is as soft and delicate a couch as any 
 birdling ever pillowed its head upon. The eggs, some four 
 in number, about .67 X. 50, are generally grayish or greenish- 
 white, pretty heavily spotted, sometimes blotched with 
 brown and lilac, and are very variable. Though the nest is 
 generally built by the last of May, there is but one brood 
 raised in this locality, and the birds leave us for the south 
 in September. 
 
 As an exception to the whole genus, D. astiva has no white 
 markings in the tail, except that the quills of the outer tail- 
 feathers are white. The young being for some time with- 
 out the red markings beneath, Audubon at first made them a 
 separate species, which he called "the Children's Warbler." 
 
 This bird shows special ingenuity in building out the 
 Cow-bird's egg, sometimes making even a three-story nest 
 for that purpose; although it is not, as was supposed by the 
 earlier ornithologists, the only bird resorting to this expe- 
 dient, the Redstart, Phcebe, etc., discovering the same 
 contrivance. Covering all North America to the arctics, 
 and even reaching South America in winter, this abundant 
 species is especially characteristic of our continent. 
 
 THE CATBIRD. 
 
 On the last day of April, as I paddle my canoe along the 
 still waters of Tonawanda, I spy a Catbird (Mimus caroli- 
 nensis) in the bushes near the stream. Only 9 inches long^ 
 of a plain dark drab or ash, excepting the black crown and 
 the bright chestnut of the under tail-coverts, and keeping low 
 among the thick shrubbery, this bird is now by no means con- 
 spicuous.* As it approaches nidification, about the last of May, 
 
 * I once saw in the possession of Professor W. E. D. Scott, of Princeton, a Catbird which 
 was as white as a white rabbit. 
 
 15 
 
226 THE CATBIRD. 
 
 however, it becomes very sprightly and noisy. With tail well 
 spread and crown-feathers erect, it hops and flits about the 
 thickets, the edges of the woods, the swamps and the thick 
 shrubbery of the garden, the most wide-awake bird in all 
 these haunts. Upon the slightest alarm, it will mew like 
 a scared kitten, imitating this feline mammal so perfectly 
 that no one would attribute the sound to the throat of a 
 bird. Again, it startles one with its song, which is very 
 spirited indeed, and in the sweetest tones, but so hurriedly 
 uttered that it would seem impossible to catch its full 
 meaning. Unquestionably this song may contain pretty 
 distinct imitations of the voices of other birds, but I fail to 
 detect that general and well-pronounced capacity of a 
 Mockingbird so often attributed to it. Why need he repeat 
 the melodies of his neighbors, his own song, like that of the 
 Brown Thrush, which it greatly resembles, is sweet enough 
 of itself. It differs most materially, however, from the song 
 of the Thrushes proper birds to which our singer, the 
 Brown Thrush, and the distinguished Mockingbird, are 
 so closely related as to be regarded by ornithologists as a 
 branch of the same family. When the Wood Thrush sings 
 he seems to breathe out his very soul in a thoughtful 
 melody. There is a musical idea in every note. He is the 
 Mozart or Beethoven- of his class. He sings because he 
 cannot help it. He sings to the forest, to the stream, and 
 to the evening star. The Catbird sings on purpose. There 
 is no sentiment whatever in his performance. It is wholly 
 a play upon tones, a trick of the vocal organs; and, as has 
 been justly said, always implies a listener, always betrays 
 self-consciousness. The notes of the Wood Thrush inspires 
 solemnity, and may bring one into a mood for religious 
 devotion; those of the Catbird awaken risibility, and put 
 the spirit of fun and mischief into one. 
 
THE CATBIRD. 227 
 
 " Some persons do not admire the Catbird on account of 
 his sombre plumage," sayS Susan Fenimore Cooper, in her 
 delicious " Rural Hours," " but the rich shaded grays of 
 his coat strike us as particularly pleasing, and his form is 
 elegant. His cry, to be sure, is odd enough for a bird; and 
 sometimes when he repeats it twenty times in succession in 
 the course of half an hour, one feels inclined to box his ears. 
 It is the more provoking in him to insult us in this way, 
 because some of his notes, when he chooses, are very 
 musical soft and liquid as different as possible from his 
 harsh, grating cry. Like his cousin, the Mockingbird, he 
 often deserves a good shaking for his caprices, both belong- 
 ing to the naughty class of 'birds who can sing, and won't 
 sing,' except when it suits their fancy." 
 
 The nest, placed in a bush or brush-pile, is constructed of 
 coarse shreds of bark, stalks of weeds, and dried leaves, 
 occasionally ornamented with one or two rags or feathers, 
 and lined with rootlets, giving the inside a uniform dark 
 color, which is quite characteristic. The eggs, commonly 4, 
 some .95 X. 70, are of a fine, dark bluish-green. A second 
 brood is sometimes raised. 
 
 How bravely the Catbird will attack the black snake, that 
 arch-enemy of birds' nests on and near the ground, wrig- 
 gling about vines and bushes after the manner of a more 
 ancient individual of his kind, almost as much at home in a 
 tree as on the ground how our bird will attack him with 
 bill and claw, and not infrequently compel him to retreat, 
 has been noted by almost every ornithologist. 
 
 In spring and early summer the food of the Catbird is 
 insectivorous. Larvae in general, and cutworms, as well as 
 winged insects, constitute the bulk of its fare. Later in the 
 season it is partial to small fruits, feeding mostly on wild 
 berries of swamps and thickets. It is therefore the friend 
 
228 THE WATER THRUSH, 
 
 and ally of the husbandman, and should never be the sub- 
 ject of persecution; and especially because of the partiality 
 it shows for the vicinage of man, being almost entirely con- 
 fined to the improved and cultivated regions of the country, 
 and more or less common about our dwellings. 
 
 The Middle States are the favorite breeding region of 
 this bird. Reported as rare in Northern New England, it 
 breeds commonly in Nova Scotia and on the Red River of the 
 north, on the Saskatchawan, in the cultivated parts of the 
 Central Plains, and on the Columbia River. It is resident 
 in the Southern States, but many pass the winter far 
 beyond. It leaves the Middle States for the south in Sep- 
 tember or October. 
 
 THE WATER THRUSH. 
 
 On this last day of April, I every now and then hear the 
 spirited notes of the Water Thrush (Seiurus noveboracensis). 
 I sometimes hear them even a week earlier. I hardly know 
 whether to call these notes a song or not. They are not at 
 all like those sylvan melodies, which seem the overflow of 
 quiet joy from happy natures; but are rather a strong utter- 
 ance of surprise, as if the bird had made some exciting 
 discovery perhaps your own unwelcome presence and 
 wished to express some feeling of alarm or disapproval. 
 Chee-chee-chee-chee-choo-choo-choo-choo-choo-thoo, beginning with 
 a somewhat high and loud note, and gradually dropping 
 down softer and lower, the whole with an increasing rapid- 
 ity, might represent this vocal performance. As Wilson 
 and Audubon evidently gave us only the history of that 
 delightful songster, the Louisiana, or Large-billed Water 
 Thrush, and subsequent writers have been more or less con- 
 fused as to the voices of this and our more northern or 
 common Water Thrush, ornithological readings do not pre- 
 
THE WATER THRUSH. 229 
 
 pare us for this so-called song, as above described; and yet 
 I fail to detect in it any other melody, or any other note, 
 except that sharp chip, chip, common to its genus. 
 
 Having the dress of a Thrush, and the dainty, dove-like 
 gait as well as the jerking of the tail, so characteristic of 
 the Titlarks, while the structure is more allied to that of the 
 Warblers, this species and its congeners the Louisiana 
 Water Thrush, and the Golden-crowned Thrush have 
 greatly puzzled our ornithologists. After calling them 
 Thrushes for some time, and then Titlarks or Wagtails, the 
 greater importance of structural affinity over and above mere 
 appearance or analogy has finally placed, th^m among the 
 Warblers "Terrestrial Warblers," Coues calls them. 
 
 The Water Thrush is commonly quite shy, and manages 
 to keep well out of sight while one is moving around; but 
 if you will sit down and remain quiet, it will perambulate 
 about quite freely, and allow you a good view of its trim 
 form, some 5.50-6.00 inches long, and of a rich olivaceous- 
 brown coat and cap, and yellowish-white eye-brows and 
 under parts, the latter thickly spotted in streaks with brown. 
 
 Being almost constantly on or near the ground, this so- 
 called Thrush is a ground-builder; and, true to its name, 
 keeps in the immediate vicinity of water, generally in the 
 partially submerged shrubbery of a swamp. Here the nest 
 may be found at the root of a tree or stump, or stuck into 
 the side of a partially decayed and moss-covered log. It is 
 composed of sticks, dried grasses, moss and fine fibrous 
 material; and contains four eggs, about .85 x -67, delicate 
 white, specked with light-red. It may be found in this 
 locality late in May or early in June. I have found the 
 young out of the nest by the 19th of June. Habitat, East- 
 ern North America, up to high latitudes. I found it breeding 
 in Nova Scotia. Its northwestward trend is to Montana, 
 
230 THE WATER THRUSH. 
 
 and even to Alaska; south in winter, into the West Indies, 
 Central America, and even South America. 
 
 The Large-billed Water Thrush (Seiurus ludovicianus) , 
 though very similar to the above, both in appearance and 
 in habit, is nevertheless clearly differentiated by its greater 
 size, larger bill, buffy-white under parts, instead of yellow- 
 ish-white, its more southern habitat, and its marvelous 
 powers of song. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE THIRD OF MAY. 
 
 JT is the 3d of May and we are just in the thickest of the 
 spring migration of our birds. Considered in all its rela- 
 tions, this regular movement of the birds is one of the 
 most wonderful facts in nature. Coming such an immense 
 distance, many of them from the tropics to the far north, 
 often one or two thousand miles, how can they time them- 
 selves so well? No matter what the weather is, or the 
 character of the season, I know within a few days at most, 
 in many cases almost within a few hours, when to expect 
 each species.* Not many hours from the morning of 
 the 7th of April I may be sure of the pleasing melody 
 of the Bay-winged Bunting, or Grass Finch; and as soon as 
 one appears, they become almost numberless. About the 
 1st of May I may expect the Catbird, the Indigo-bird, the 
 Redstart, the Black-throated Blue Warbler, and the Yellow 
 Warbler; and about a week later arrive the Golden-crowned 
 Warbler, the Rose-breasted Grosbeak, and the Wood Thrush. 
 This exact time of arrival adds a delightful interest to 
 the study of ornithology. I wait for the coming of the 
 birds, especially for my favorite ones, as for the coming of 
 my friends. As our rugged winter wears away, I count the 
 weeks and the days. 
 
 * This is particularly true of the land-birds. Many of the water-birds (but by no means 
 all of them), especially such as migrate along the water-courses of the interior, may be 
 governed considerably by the nature of the season. 
 
232 MIGRA TION. 
 
 The time of arrival, as also of departure, though so 
 exact in each case, varies greatly with different species. 
 The Robin, the Bluebird, the various Blackbirds, the 
 Phoebe, the Killdeer, the Meadow Lark and the Song 
 Sparrow arrive before winter is over, and are thus the har- 
 bingers of spring; but Thrushes, Warblers, Cuckoos, and 
 the Flycatchers generally, come with the spring flowers and 
 the tender foliage. "The Indian of the fur countries, in 
 forming his rude calendar, names the recurring moons 
 after the Birds-of -passage, whose arrival is coincident with 
 their changes." 
 
 Those birds which arrive first stay latest, and the latest 
 visitants are the first to depart. For the most part, the 
 males are the first on the ground in the spring, while the 
 females or- the young lead the van in the fall; and it is 
 pretty certain that those individuals spending the summer 
 farthest north also winter farther north than those of the 
 same species which do not reach such high latitudes. It 
 may also be set down as a general law that those species 
 which spend the summer farthest north also winter farthest 
 south. 
 
 Many kinds of birds, especially such as fly high and 
 encounter but slight danger, perform their passage in part 
 or wholly by day; but those passing near the ground, or 
 experiencing special dangers by the way, almost invariably 
 move under cover of the night. It is probable that the 
 divers such as Loons and Grebes make their passages 
 mostly in the water, following the great water-courses; 
 while certain running birds, as the Rails, achieve a great 
 part of their journey a-foot. 
 
 Our North American birds seem to migrate year after 
 year in certain lines, toward the north in the spring, and 
 again toward the south in autumn. For instance, of the 
 
MIGRA 770 AT. 233 
 
 immense number of birds wintering in Florida, some regu- 
 larly follow the more easterly parts, while others, pursuing 
 a more interior route, trend away to the northwest; so that 
 a number of observers, forming a line from east to west 
 across these lines of migration, would each find, year after 
 year, certain passengers peculiar to his station. The Atlan- 
 tic Coast and the Mississippi Father of Waters would 
 seem to be the main thoroughfares.* Again, the regular 
 route in the autumn for some species is not the same as 
 that of the spring. Some species, and perhaps it may be 
 said the birds in general, return to the same spot for nidifi- 
 cation from year to year. The Barn Swallows return to the 
 old home on the rafter with great demonstrations of joy at 
 each arrival; the Bluebird and the Martin return regularly to 
 their tenement; the Bird of Prey seeks out its old eyrie, and 
 even the song-bird of the forest, which achieves the longest 
 migration, is known to rebuild near its former site. It is 
 said that from year to year " the immortal Naumann knew 
 all his little feathered friends, near his house, by their 
 songs." 
 
 How does each species, or individual, trace its pathway 
 with such marked regularity and certainty? Whoever 
 would account for this, by the bird's-eye view of the main 
 points of landscape which the migrant is supposed to com- 
 mand from its lofty aerial pathway, must attribute to the 
 bird a higher reasoning faculty in combining the general 
 effect of the extended scenery through which it passes than 
 it could seem to possess; and at the same time fails to find 
 the route for the vast numbers moving low, or under cover 
 of the night. Nor do the young always avail themselves of 
 the more experienced; and unless the bird be endowed with 
 an intelligence immeasurably above that of man, would it 
 
 * A careful study of the facts in the Old World has rendered it certain that great water- 
 courses, and their adjoining valleys, are the main thoroughfares of migration. 
 
234 MIGRA TION. 
 
 not require a great deal of experience to secure so wonder- 
 ful a result with so much certainty? Here is a mystery 
 which the most careful study can only enhance. In that 
 mystery who does not exclaim: 
 
 There is a power whose care 
 
 Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, 
 
 The desert and the illimitable air." 
 
 The manner of the birds in their passage is in every way 
 interesting. There is often much ceremony by way of 
 preparation for the journey. Some go singly or in pairs, 
 others in families or flocks, these moving communities some- 
 times being enormous. The Swallows will gather in im- 
 mense flocks, perching in dense lines on the ridge of the old 
 barn or along the telegraph wires, and laugh and chatter as 
 if their formidable journey were to be the merriest ching 
 possible; the vast assemblages of the several kinds of Black- 
 birds, generally each kind by itself, will fairly darken the 
 corn-fields and the meadows; and the Robins will assemble 
 with a subdued but peculiar hilarity. Generally there is 
 the greatest possible difference between the spring and the 
 fall migrations, the former being hurried, jubilant, and full 
 of song; the latter leisurely, quiet, and comparatively voice- 
 less. 
 
 It is the opinion of some of the best European observers 
 that the more hurried and joyous the vernal migration, the 
 earlier and more genial will be the spring, and that loitering 
 or hesitation betokens the opposite; while the more leisurely 
 the southward movement, the greater the probability of an 
 easy winter, and vice versa. 
 
 Gregarious species, especially the water-fowl, often move 
 in the most exact and beautiful order. Who has not 
 noticed the flight of Wild Geese, Ducks and Plover, in 
 the form of a V, a straight line, or a graceful curve ? As 
 
MIGRA TlOtf. 235 
 
 the leader cleaves the air with a special outlay of strength, 
 he every now and then drops into the rear in the easier line 
 of the wake, some other one taking up the task in front. 
 The European Storks are said to perform, every now and 
 then, the most beautiful evolutions on their way, after 
 which they move straight forward as usual. In heavy fogs 
 or dark nights birds fly low, and that often at their peril. 
 Not infrequently they lie over during weather especially 
 unfavorable. All such as take long and high flights prefer 
 the moonlight and the wind ahead. Wind in the rear is 
 very unfavorable. Not infrequently birds prefer to travel 
 under the leadership of the more experienced of their class. 
 
 Very noticeable, indeed, is the effect of this regular 
 migration in any locality. Compute the probable number 
 of any one species, as the Bay-winged Sparrow, or the Balti- 
 more Oriole, for instance, contained in every square mile of 
 their summer habitat, and imagine the immense tidal wave 
 which, at the exact time for each species, moves along the en- 
 tire breadth of the line of march. The more brilliant varieties 
 everywhere appeal to the eye; and, as they reach their sum- 
 mer residence, each kind of the birds of song makes the air 
 more resonant with its peculiar melody. How the arrival 
 of any numerous species modifies the entire phase of a 
 rural district ! The field and orchard teem with a new and 
 happy life, and from the forest comes the finest of nature's 
 melodies. 
 
 In Eastern North America, the birds migrate in greater 
 numbers and over a greater reach of country th#n in any 
 other part of the world; therefore, I am especially led to 
 inquire how this wonderful thing is accomplished. What 
 strange and mighty impulse is this which, inspiring the 
 breasts of such countless multitudes at the same moment, 
 carries them on through bitter storms and numberless perils 
 
236 MIGRA TION. 
 
 to such immense distances ? Even those species of migratory 
 birds which have been confined for many months, and seem 
 perfectly tame, dash violently against the sides of their cage, 
 and the tamed Canada Goose becomes wild again at the 
 call of his species in their northward flight, and abandon- 
 ing all his new relationships, rises to join t"hem. 
 
 Mr. A. R. Wallace, in his great work on the Geographical 
 Distribution of Animals, states what he conceives to be the 
 natural causes for this wonderful phenomenon. 
 
 He suggests " that the instinct of migration has arisen 
 from the habit of wandering in search of food common to 
 all animals, but is greatly exaggerated in the case of birds 
 by their power of flight and by the necessity for procur- 
 ing a large amount of soft insect-food for their unfledged 
 young." This might explain certain more or less irregular 
 movements of birds, which are termed partial migrations, 
 but is by no means sufficient to account for all the wonder- 
 ful facts of regular migration. As a matter of fact, insect- 
 life becomes much more abundant as we approach the 
 warmer regions of the globe, the larvae of most kinds of 
 insects appearing at different times throughout the season; 
 hence we are not surprised to find large numbers of birds, 
 of about every order, breeding and residing permanently in 
 the more southern parts of our continent. Moreover, not a 
 few species breed almost indifferently in any part of East- 
 ern North America, to quite high latitudes, nesting at an 
 earlier or later period of the entire breeding season, in 
 accordance with their more northern or more southern 
 location. Since nature yields so readily to ordinary causes, 
 might not the birds generally find it more convenient to 
 adjust the time of their nidification to that period of the 
 year when insect larvae abound in the more southern lati- 
 tudes, than to travel such immense distances, encountering 
 
MIGRATION. 237 
 
 wind and storm, and perils innumerable? The perils which 
 birds encounter in their migrations are inconceivable to those 
 unacquainted with the facts. Overcome by adverse winds 
 and storms of great severity, immense numbers become 
 exhausted and perish, as is shown by the numbers of the 
 small land-birds drifting on to the shores of the Great 
 Lakes after very severe storms. Attracted and dazed by 
 the light-houses stationed here and there, so many dash 
 their lives out against them as to render these points of 
 incalculable interest to the observer. The continuous net- 
 work of telegraph wires spread over the country maims 
 and destroys countless numbers. After heavy storms, 
 during their migrations, hundreds of Ducks have been 
 picked up dead on a single morning on Niagara River, 
 below the Falls, they having flown into the great cataract 
 and perished. 
 
 Again, the same author says: "If we go back only as 
 far as the height of the glacial epoch, there is reason to 
 believe that all North America, as far south as about 40 
 north latitude, was covered with an almost continuous and 
 perennial ice-sheet. At this time the migratory birds would 
 extend up to this barrier (which would probably terminate 
 in the midst of luxuriant vegetation, just as the glaciers of 
 Switzerland now often terminate amM forests and corn- 
 fields), and as the cold decreased and the ice retired almost 
 imperceptibly year by year, would follow it up farther and 
 farther, according as the peculiarities of vegetation and 
 insect-food were more or less suited to their several consti- 
 tutions." The only possible interpretation of this passage 
 would seem to be that the birds, being held in the south by 
 the glacial epoch, followed up the recession of the cold at 
 the closing of that period, and ever since have kept up the 
 same movement in annual accommodation to cold and ice,. 
 
238 MIGRA TION. 
 
 simply to find suitable food. The question naturally arises, 
 since all varieties of bird-food abound in the south, why 
 should a berry, a grain, a seed, or a caterpillar, be so much 
 more palatable in the north ? Nor are our regular migrants 
 generally driven back from the north by hunger and cold. 
 Nearly all our migratory birds leave for the south either 
 during the fine and fruitful days of late summer, or in the 
 most brilliant and balmy days of autumn, when they are 
 well covered with an extra coat of fat, and give forth a 
 pleasing repetition of the gladsome lays of spring; and in 
 most cases they evidently go much further than is neces- 
 sary to find food and mild weather. In the gala-days of 
 spring when most birds make their passage, the weather 
 and resources of food are such that the whole journey is 
 one continuous festivity. 
 
 Mr. Wallace admits that " the most striking fact in favor 
 of the 'instinct' of migration is the 'agitation,' or excite- 
 ment, of confined birds at the time when their wild com- 
 panions are migrating," but thinks this "a social excitement 
 due to the anxious cries of the migrating birds." No doubt 
 the tame bird may be affected by the cry of its fellow, but 
 those not within the reach of such cry, nor even within 
 sight of their passing relatives, seem equally excited in the 
 time of regular migration, spending the whole night in use- 
 less efforts to free themselves. Moreover, how came these 
 birds in confinement, these life-long prisoners shut out from 
 the society of their kind, to recognize each the call of its 
 fellows, and to comprehend its meaning? Again, the same 
 writer says: "We must remember, too, that migration, at 
 the proper time, is in many cases absolutely essential to the 
 existence of the species; and it is therefore not improbable 
 that some strong, social emotion should have been gradu- 
 ally developed in the race, by the circumstance that all 
 
MIGRA TION. 239 
 
 who for want of such emotion did not join their fellows 
 inevitably perished." As to the first clause of this state- 
 ment, we know that birds occasionally nest very far from 
 their ordinary breeding habitat, and for aught we can see 
 they might always do so; and as to the second clause, the 
 query naturally arises, how came the sad fate of the few 
 delinquents that " inevitably perished " on failing to migrate 
 to become so generally known and so deeply affecting ? It 
 is, marvelous what an amount of loose speculation may 
 pass for science ! No; neither the wisdom of the birds, nor 
 the force of circumstances, however stern, can account for 
 the wonderful phenomena connected with the regular mi- 
 gration of birds. It would seem that this, like so many 
 other persistent habits in animated nature, must be caused 
 by the laws of instinct, superintended by an Infinite Intelli- 
 gence. Nor should we be stumbled because we, in the close 
 limitations of our finiteness, cannot conceive how the Infinite 
 and Omnipresent can touch these innumerable springs of 
 activity in animated nature. With proper evidence, there 
 should be room for faith. 
 
 One very naturally sympathizes with Audubon in his 
 reflections on the bleak coasts of Labrador. "That the 
 Creator should have ordered that millions of diminutive, 
 tender creatures should cross spaces of country, in all 
 appearance a thousand times more congenial for all their 
 purposes, to reach this poor, desolate and deserted land, to 
 people it, as it were, for a time, and to cause it to be enli- 
 vened with the songs of the sweetest of the feathered musi- 
 cians, for only two months, at most, and then, by the same 
 extraordinary instinct, should cause them all to suddenly 
 abandon the country, is as wonderful as it is beautiful and 
 grand." 
 
240 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 
 
 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 
 
 O, these days of life and song ! they are but too short 
 and fleeting ! I go into my study, in the early morning, 
 and sit by the open window which overlooks the village 
 
 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 
 
 nestling among the trees. What a delicious fragrance floats 
 on the breeze ! What can be more suggestive of Paradise 
 than this delightful chorus of birds, and this budding and 
 blooming of spring? 
 
 Ah! my old favorite, the Baltimore Oriole (Icterus balti- 
 more), has arrived during the night. I hear his loud, sweet 
 whistle in the large elm just across the way. Now he has 
 passed directly before the window, and lit in full view in 
 the orchard. He is well worthy of the epithet " Golden " in 
 his old familiar name, Golden Robin, only he is no Robin at 
 all; and if Lord Baltimore, for whom he is named, could have 
 equaled his brilliancy in the colors of his coat-of-arms, he was 
 a gay fellow to lead a persecuted people into the wilderness. 
 Most appropriate of all, I think, is this bird's Indian name, 
 " Fire-bird." Appearing to the best advantage as he flies 
 from you, does not that rump of bright orange, surrounded 
 by the jet-black of his head, shoulders, wings and tail, glow 
 like a burning coal? And, as he spreads his tail in lighting, 
 
THE BALTIMORE ORTOLE. 241 
 
 are not those light-orange outer feathers of the same about 
 to burst into a flame? The brightest orange, however, is on 
 the breast, becoming lighter on the sides and under parts; 
 and in the brightest specimens, even the white of the wing- 
 coverts is tinged with the same. His female, who may 
 arrive in a day or two, or may linger behind more than a 
 week, has but a general resemblance, being much duller in 
 color and marking. 
 
 Hero, hero, hero: Cheery, cheery, cheery: Cheer -up, cheer -up, 
 cheer-up: are among his common notes, generally coming 
 from among the swaying branches of the taller trees; but 
 sometimes also from the bushes, and even from the fence. 
 Occasionally, only, is he seen on the ground, and then he 
 appears as much out of place as a gentleman in broadcloth 
 and kid-gloves digging a ditch, or guiding a plow. On 
 some minds the effect of the song of birds is very great. 
 The most sprightly cheerfulness is particularly emphasized 
 in the song of the Baltimore. How I have been cheered by 
 it, in certain days dark with, sorrow, I cannot easily forget. 
 Hence his first note awakens a throng of tender reminis- 
 cences, and his return is always an event of the season. 
 And yet that song has but little compass or variety. Its 
 effect is wholly in the tones. The notes are almost monoto- 
 nous, unless, indeed, he has learned to imitate the note or 
 song of some bird by the way, one which never reaches us, 
 and so leaves the acquired song a mystery to us; a peculiar 
 attainment of the Baltimore, in which his voice may become 
 quite flexible. Unquestionably he has quite a faculty for 
 imitation. Besides his song he has a spirited twitter, or 
 rattle, when in combat, and when winning the female. 
 He has also a single note, corresponding to the com- 
 mon chipping of birds when alarmed about their nest or 
 young. But all his noise will soon be over. Incubation 
 16 
 
242 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 
 
 once begun, he is one of the quietest of birds and remains 
 so till after the moult, during which event he is rarely to 
 be seen; then returning to the vicinity of the late nesting 
 place in the orchard or grove, he will be almost as gay, and 
 sprightly, and musical, in the midst of his full-grown family, 
 now making ready to depart for some more genial clime, as 
 he was in the hilarious days of the nuptial season. 
 
 A very "castle in the air" is the Baltimore's pensile nest, 
 as it sways and rocks on an elastic branch of some tree, in 
 the front-yard, the orchard, the grove or the forest. In this 
 locality a partiality is shown for the graceful drooping 
 branches of the elm. Wherever placed, it seldom fails to be 
 under a canopy of leaves. Generally in the form of a bag 
 some six or seven inches deep, round at the bottom, and 
 hung to slender fork-shaped limbs by the edges, the limbs 
 thus serving to hold it open, it is the most noticeable bird's 
 nest in field or forest. The material is almost anything in 
 the form of long strips or threads that can be easily woven 
 thin, gray, -vegetable fibers, yarn, twine, interlaced in every 
 possible manner, and well sewed together with horse-hair. 
 The walls are so thin and open as to let the air through 
 readily. The bottom is a thick cushion of vegetable down 
 and hair. A gentleman in Pennsylvania once hung out 
 bright and various colored zephyrs, which the bird wove into 
 a most brilliant and fantastic fabric. Says Wilson: "So 
 solicitous is the Baltimore to procure proper materials for 
 his nest that, in the season of building, the women in the 
 country are under necessity of narrowly watching their 
 thread that may chance to be out bleaching, and the farmer 
 to secure his young grafts; as the Baltimore, finding the 
 .former, and the strings which tie the latter, so well adapted 
 for his purpose, frequently carries off both; or should the 
 one be too heavy, and the other too firmly tied, he will tug 
 
THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 243 
 
 at them a considerable time before he gives up the attempt. 
 Skeins of silk and hanks of thread have been often found, 
 after the leaves were fallen, hanging around the Baltimore's 
 nest; but so woven up and entangled as to be entirely 
 irreclaimable. Before the introduction of Europeans, no 
 such material could have been obtained here; but, with the 
 sagacity of a good architect, he has improved this circum- 
 stance to his advantage; and the strongest and best mate- 
 rials are uniformly found in those parts by which the whole 
 is supported." 
 
 Great sagacity and skill are shown in adapting the form 
 of the nest to circumstances. Audubon observes that the 
 walls of the nest are thinner, or thicker, and that it is placed 
 on the warmer, or cooler, side of the tree, according as the 
 location is northern or southern. Two nests, lately found 
 by Mr. Eugene Ringueberg, of Lockport, N. Y., are very 
 suggestive as to the intelligence of the bird. One was 
 hung on the string of a kite caught in an apple-tree. Closed 
 at the top in the form of a cone, its opening, high on one 
 side, was a sort of projecting porch of closely woven horse- 
 hair, which, as the nest could turn in any direction, served 
 as the tail of a weather-cock, and turning constantly to the 
 leeward side, kept the entrance from the storm. The other, 
 being built on two slender twigs, was too poorly supported 
 for the weight of the bird. In this emergency, a strong 
 piece of twine was woven into one side, carried up over 
 two firm branches, and well fastened into the other side, 
 thus making the nest fully secure. Here was no mean 
 exercise of the reasoning faculty. Those who study the 
 animal kingdom most will have the highest opinion of its 
 intelligence. 
 
 The eggs, generally four or five in a set, some ".90 X .60" 
 of an inch, are white, slightly tinged with brown, and 
 
244 THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 
 
 sparsely but irregularly scratched in every direction, as if 
 with a pen, in both light and heavystrokes with black or dark 
 brown; some of these marks being obscure, as if partially 
 washed off. As generally with birds of its size, incubation 
 occupies some two weeks. The young resemble the female, 
 but Audubon thinks that the young males acquire their 
 bright colors the first year. 
 
 The Baltimore Oriole is a great devourer of insects; but 
 like other birds of that kind of diet, he will occasionally 
 affect a change. Once, after a spring shower, when the 
 peach-trees were in bloom, a beautiful male lit in one just 
 against a window. All unconscious of my presence, though 
 I was scarcely more than two feet from him, he began mov- 
 ing up and down the limbs in that gliding, athletic manner 
 peculiar to himself, ever and anon inserting his bill into the 
 cup-like calyx of the blossoms. Could he be drinking the 
 new-fallen rain-drops? Scarcely; for he did not raise his 
 head to swallow. Looking a little more closely, I saw that 
 he was eating the stamens. Let not the fruit-grower 
 be alarmed, however, for nature has provided many 
 more blossoms than is necessary for a good crop. It may 
 be that the Baltimore is simply thinning them to advan- 
 tage. 
 
 With us, as in many other parts of our country, this is one 
 of the most numerous and well-known of all the birds; 
 while his brilliancy, his loud and happy notes, and his 
 abundant appearance in shade trees, orchards, fields, forests, 
 and even in the heart of our great cities at the same time, 
 fully make known the morning of his arrival. Wintering 
 in Mexico, Central America, Cuba, etc., he breeds nearly 
 throughout the Eastern United States, and, becoming rare 
 in Northern New England, barely extends into the British 
 Provinces. He belongs, therefore, to the Alleghanian Fauna. 
 
THE ORCHARD ORIOLE. 245 
 
 THE ORCHARD ORIOLE. 
 
 Very similar in form and marking, but of a different 
 color and smaller, is the Orchard Oriole (Icterus spurius). 
 Some seven inches long, and having nearly the same parts 
 black as the Baltimore, except that the tail is entirely black, 
 the male has those parts corresponding to the orange in the 
 latter chestnut, or chestnut-red. The female is olivaceous 
 above, with dusky wings, and greenish-yellow beneath. 
 The young male is like her the first year, the second year he 
 acquires a black throat, the third year is variously spotted, 
 and afterwards acquires the dark colors of maturity. Resid- 
 ing in Orleans County, N. Y., I am a little too far north for 
 this bird, but in Northern Ohio, where I formerly studied 
 him, he is very common, being found in every orchard. 
 Arriving there about the middle of May, his song is a loud 
 and delightful warble, bearing a striking resemblance to 
 that of the Robin or Rose-breasted Grosbeak. The female 
 is so shy as seldom to be seen. The nest, hung by the 
 upper edge to a limb in the orchard, is nearly hemispherical, 
 built of tough grasses thoroughly interwoven. Wilson says: 
 " I had the curiosity to detach one of the fibers, or stalks of 
 dried grass, from the nest, and found it to measure thirteen 
 inches in length, and in that distance was thirty-four times 
 hooked through and returned, winding round and round 
 the nest." He says, also: "An old lady of my acquaint- 
 ance, to whom I was one day showing this curious fabrica- 
 tion, after admiring its texture for some time asked me, in a 
 tone between joke and earnest, whether I did not think it 
 possible to teach these birds to darn stockings." This nest, 
 being built of grasses so recently dried as still to retain 
 their green color, about like that of new-mown hay, has a 
 peculiarly fresh and clean appearance. 
 
 The Orioles proper are altogether birds of the Old 
 
246 THE WARBLING VIREO, 
 
 World, and are allied to the Thrushes. " More than twenty 
 species are described in Africa, Asia, and the Indian archi- 
 pelago." One species, the Golden Oriole, migrates into 
 Southern Europe, and occasionally reaches Great Britain 
 and Sweden. They all build very ingenious nests. Our 
 Orioles, of a wholly different type, and peculiar to the 
 New World, especially to Central and South America, are 
 closely related to the numerous Blackbirds of our country 
 all of which are ranked among the Starlings. 
 
 THE WARBLING VIREO. 
 
 From a group of tall maples in a neighboring yard, there 
 comes one of the most delightful warbles ever heard in this 
 locality that of the Warbling Vireo (Vireo gilvus). In a 
 series of liquid notes, very fluent and greatly prolonged 
 for the size of the bird, in a smoothly undulating melody, 
 delivered while the bird flits and gleans among the foliage, 
 and in tones so sweet that it would seem as if the air 
 melted in them, the very soul of tenderness and affection is 
 breathed out upon the ear. In one of our rural burying- 
 grounds, not long since, while a casket with the remains of 
 a little child was being lowered into the grave, there mingled 
 with the sobs of heart-broken mourners the inimitably ten- 
 der warble of this bird from a tree-top just above. Never 
 did the melody of bird or man seem more appropriate. It 
 was at once the voice of sympathy and hope in the very 
 presence of death. 
 
 This inimitable melody, like that of some celestial flute 
 or flageolet, never out of time, and never failing to charm, 
 may be heard in our middle districts from the first days of 
 May till the last of September. 
 
 Though common to orchards and shaded front-yards, 
 even in villages and cities, the Warbling Vireo is much 
 
THE WARBLING VIREO. 247 
 
 oftener heard than seen. Nearly the size of a canary, 5.50 
 long and 9.00 in extent, olivaceous-green above and yel- 
 lowish-white beneath, it so nearly resembles the leaves 
 as it glides softly and gracefully through the tree-tops 
 that one must look sharply to detect it. But it is so 
 utterly absent-minded as it flits and peers among the 
 branches, meanwhile abandoning itself to its song, that one 
 may come almost as near to it as one pleases. Though, 
 like the rest of the Vireos, it takes its food and moves about 
 like a Warbler, the bill, hooked and notched, broad at base 
 and well bristled, reminded the older ornithologists of the 
 Flycatchers, while its general structure now brings this 
 family near the Shrikes a group of birds of altogether 
 different habits of voice, food and nidification. The family 
 Vireonidce. is entirely of the New World, and the genus Vireo, 
 to which this warbling species belongs, is almost exclusively 
 of North America, while the species itself pertains to the 
 eastern parts. As in the case of the Vireos in general, male 
 and female are alike. Like all the rest of its genus, it hangs 
 by its edge a delicate pensile nest on the elastic twigs of 
 some bush or tree; in the case of gilvus, almost always 
 high up in the tree; the eggs, some .80X-55, being of a 
 most delicate or flesh-tinted white, barely specked with dark- 
 brown or black, are among the most beautiful of birds' eggs. 
 
 The nests and eggs of the Vireos can never be mistaken, 
 so wholly different are they from the nests and eggs of all 
 other birds. Never shall I forget the tender sense of the 
 beautiful which stole over me in the days of childhood, as 
 I first beheld a nest of this bird. A very fairy-like basket 
 of jewels it seemed. 
 
 A warbling Vireo's nest, now before me, is hung on very 
 small twigs at their junction with a larger upright twig, 
 and is slightly fastened around the latter. It is woven of 
 
248 THE WARBLING VIREO. 
 
 woody fibers, some dried grass and shreds of bark, inter- 
 mixed with bits of wasp-nest, vegetable down, and the 
 white, fine-spun substance of certain cocoons. It is lined 
 with fine shreds of the grape-vine. Another nest, suspended 
 in the ordinary way, is similarly made up, but very shallow, 
 not more than 1^ inch in depth outside. 
 
 Though the summer habitat of Vireo gilvus is given as far 
 west as the High Central Plains, I do not think it extends 
 very far north of Lake Ontario. I did not meet with it on 
 Georgian Bay nor in Nova Scotia. Mr. Chamberlain does 
 not report it from New Brunswick, and Mr. Everett Smith 
 regards it as rare in Eastern Maine. It is probably a bird 
 of the Alleghanian Fauna. 
 
 The Brotherly-love, or Philadelphia Vireo, probably a 
 closely-allied species to the Warbling, is also found occa- 
 sionally in this locality. It is quite a little shorter than the 
 latter, perhaps half an inch, and the colors are brighter 
 the olivaceous having more of green, and the white having 
 more of yellow the breast, for instance, being in some 
 cases quite yellow. When first studying birds, the eye 
 being not yet trained to the exact observance of form and 
 color, I noticed the difference at once on procuring the 
 Philadelphia. Like other Vireos, its nest and eggs are 
 probably in close conformity to the general type. It is not 
 uncommon in New England, nor in New Brunswick, while 
 it is said to be abundant every spring, and quite common 
 on the Red River of the north. 
 
 Mr. Wm. Brewster found this species common about 
 Umbagog Lake in the breeding season. He says: " Con- 
 trary to what might be expected from the apparently close 
 relationship of the two birds, the song of this species does 
 not in the least resemble that of Vireo gilvus. It is, on the 
 other hand, so nearly identical with that of V. olivaceus that 
 
THE WARBLING VIREO. 249 
 
 the most critical ear will, in many cases, find great difficulty 
 in distinguishing between the two. The notes of philadelphicus 
 are generally pitched a little higher in the scale, while many 
 of the utterances are feebler, and the whole strain is a trifle 
 more disconnected. But these differences are of a very 
 subtle character, and, like most comparative ones, they are 
 not to be depended upon unless the two species can be heard 
 together. The Philadelphia Vireo has, however, one note 
 which seems to be peculiarly its own, a very abrupt, double- 
 syllabled utterance, with a rising inflection, which comes in 
 with the general song at irregular but not infrequent inter- 
 vals." 
 
 Similarity of appearance to the Vireos generally, and 
 close resemblance in vocal habit to the Red-eyed Vireo, 
 have no doubt caused the species under review hitherto to 
 elude notice. Now that the points of discrimination have 
 been so well brought out by Mr. Brewster, it may, perhaps, 
 be found generally and commonly distributed in Eastern 
 North America. 
 
 In the deep forests, or .possibly in some thickly-shaded 
 yard, already in the latter part of April, I may meet the 
 Yellow-throated Vireo (Vireo flavifrons}. Well nigh six 
 inches long, yellowish-green above, wings and tail deep 
 dusky, the feathers edged with white or yellowish, wing- 
 bars white; throat, breast and eye-lids bright yellow, the 
 remaining under parts white, it is the brightest of its genus. 
 It keeps well up in the tops of the trees, diligently glean- 
 ing as it sings, vireo, vire-ee, wee-ree, etc., in tones rather 
 shrill for a Vireo, and not nearly so finely modulated and 
 fluent as those of its relative, the Red-eye, but greatly 
 resembling them. Breeding "from Maryland and Virginia 
 northward" (Coues), its nest, some 5 to 15 feet from the 
 ground, is not uncommon in this locality. 
 
250 THE RED-EYED VIREO. 
 
 One now before me is similar to that of the Red-eye. The 
 walls, however, are thicker, the nest deeper, and hence more 
 bulky; also more fully ornamented on the entire outside 
 with a white material capsules of spiders' nests or cover- 
 ings of some kind of chrysalid and around the bottom with 
 bits of rotten wood, very porous and almost wHite, prob- 
 ably bass-wood; the whole having a whitish or yellowish- 
 gray and highly artistic appearance. Another, found June 
 20th, is not any larger than the Red-eye's, but the outside 
 is ornamented with skeleton leaves, fine vegetable fibers, 
 down, capsules of spiders' nests, etc. The eggs, some .75 
 or .80X-55 or .60, therefore rather longish and pointed, are 
 pure white, with a few spots or mere specks of dark brown 
 or black on the large end. 
 
 THE RED-EYED VIREO. 
 
 Certainly in a few days I shall meet in great abundance 
 throughout the forest the Red-eyed Vireo (Vireo olivaceus). 
 Fully six inches long, it appears larger than most of its 
 genus, and while it has the general colors of the Vireos or 
 Greenlets, olive-green above and white or whitish beneath, 
 its ashy crown flanked with a narrow line of black, and its 
 white line over the eye, differentiate it alike from the 
 Warbling and from the Philadelphia Vireo. Keeping, for 
 the most part, in the upper regions of the thick foliage, it 
 almost constantly enlivens the woods with its soft flowing 
 warble; its tones, though "cheerful and happy as the merry 
 whistle of a school-boy," being yet so much softer and 
 sweeter than the Yellow-throats, as to be readily distin- 
 guishable. Its melody, rendered in a spontaneous, absent- 
 minded manner, seems simply a cheerful accompani- 
 ment to business, something thrown in by the way. I 
 know of no bird in our forest which sings so constantly 
 
THE RED-EYED VIREO. 251 
 
 from early morning through the burning heat of noon, 
 and on into the sombre shadows of the coming night, 
 aye throughout the season from May to September, 
 as this unpretending little summer resident. To quote 
 Mr. Burroughs, "Rain or shine, before noon or after, 
 in the deep forest or in the village grove when it is too 
 hot for the Thrushes or too cold and windy for the War- 
 blers it is never out of time or place for this little minstrel 
 to indulge his cheerful strain." This song is in mellow, 
 whistling tones, varied with rising and falling inflections, 
 and may be represented by the syllables, virio-virio-viriee- 
 viria-viree, etc., suggesting the origin of the bird's name. 
 Some one has made it especially articulate in the following 
 lines: 
 
 " Pretty green worm, where are you ? 
 
 Dusky-winged moth, how fare you, 
 
 When wind and rain are in the trees ? 
 Cheeryo, cheerebly, chee, 
 
 Shadow and sunshine are one to me. 
 
 " Mosquito and" gnat, beware you, 
 Saucy chipmunk, how dare you 
 Climb to my nest in the maple-tree ? 
 
 And dig up the corn 
 
 At noon and at morn ? 
 
 Cheereyo, cheerebly, chee." 
 
 Its small cup-shaped, pensile nest, hung to the twigs of a 
 bush or tree, late in May or early in June, anywhere from 
 several to twenty feet from the ground, located in any part 
 of the forest, but seldom elsewhere, is, perhaps, not equal 
 as a work of art to that of some other Vireos. It is com- 
 posed, outside, of shreds of thin fibrous bark, of a light 
 color, and ornamented with vegetable down, the silk of 
 cocoons, bits of wasps' nests, etc. ; inside, of a few fine rootlets,, 
 
252 THE RED-EYED VIREO. 
 
 but mostly of something like fine shreds of bark from the 
 wild grape-vine. The eggs, three or four, measuring some 
 .82X-62, of a pure glossy- white, are generally barely 
 specked on the larger end with dark brown, sometimes also 
 sparingly blotched with dull red. All the Vireo's eggs are 
 more or less pointed. 
 
 Never shall I forget a beautiful evening on the 18th of 
 May, when I was most highly entertained by a female Red- 
 eye building her nest. It was after one of those genial 
 spring days, when all the latent forces of nature are wooed 
 into activity. Strolling through the woods near sunset, I 
 sat upon a large stump, where a lately fallen tree had left 
 quite an opening, letting in the sunlight with a most grateful 
 effect. Here I listened to a host of birds all around me. 
 About fifteen feet up in a smallish beech, I noticed a silent 
 Red-eye, looking very anxious and busy. Presently I saw 
 a few feet from her the merest outline of a nest a little 
 gossamer bag hung to the twigs. In a moment she lit upon 
 it and began to work. I could see the motion of the 
 weaver, but not a thread of the material, it was so very 
 fine. Reaching around the fabric, even underneath it, she 
 would seem to catch some loose thread, and drawing it over 
 the side and edge, fasten it inside. Working thus a few 
 moments, all around inside and outside of the nest, she 
 would fly away, soon returning to repeat the same opera- 
 tion. Though so near, I could scarcely discern a particle of 
 the material she brought, and yet the nest grew rapidly. 
 Wonderful little workman! Where did she learn her art? 
 
 Wintering partly in Florida, but mostly in tropical America, 
 and extending their summer range throughout the Eastern 
 United States, the British Provinces, and the Northwest, 
 the Red-eyed Vireos are among the most abundant and 
 characteristic birds of Eastern North America. 
 
THE SOLITARY VIREO. 253 
 
 THE SOLITARY VIREO. 
 
 I also find the Solitary Vireo ( Vireo solitarius) here as a 
 rare migrant in May. Some 5.00 inches long; head ashy; 
 back, greenish-olive; ring around the eye, stripe thence to 
 the nostrils; wing-bars, outer edges of the dusky wing and 
 tail-feathers and under parts, white; sides tinged with yel- 
 low this Vireo is readily distinguished from the rest, espe- 
 cially by its larger head of plumbeous-blue and the white 
 markings about the eye. As this bird has been found 
 breeding near Boston, it would seem that it might breed 
 here; but I know of no one who has found its nest. Its 
 nidification seems to be principally in Northern New Eng- 
 land and northward. Nuttall, that masterly interpreter of 
 bird-music, says: "Its song seems to be intermediate be- 
 tween that of the Red-eyed and the Yellow-breasted species, 
 having the preai, preai, etc., of the latter, and the fine 
 variety of the former in its tones." Minot says "the music 
 of the Solitary Vireo is delicious." Burroughs speaks of a 
 note of the female as suggesting " the bleating of a tiny 
 lambkin." Mr. J. E. Wagner, an amateur ornithologist of 
 good abilities for observation, in Nova Scotia, says that the 
 song of the male is sometimes very much like certain of the 
 finer strains of the Catbird, and that he is a most constant 
 and spirited singer. 
 
 The nest, in material, structure and position, is very 
 similar to that of other Vireos. The eggs average ".77 X 
 .58 " of an inch, and are pure white, with a very few minute 
 and generally reddish-brown spots, principally at the larger 
 end." A most elegant nest, just sent me by Mr. Wagner 
 from Nova Scotia, the head and wing of the female accom- 
 panying it, is very similar to that of the Red-eye. It was 
 hung about eight feet from the ground, in the forked limb 
 of a fir bush, is made of usnea, and fine shreds of the thinnest 
 
254: THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. 
 
 bark of the white birch, being lined with fine dried grasses. 
 The four eggs, fresh the 7th of June, about .78 x -56 as 
 long and pointed as any Vireo's egg are pure white, 
 sparsely specked with reddish-brown, mostly at the large 
 end the specks looking as if they had been put on when 
 the shell was soft, and so had run a little. 
 
 Keeping to the forest, and exceedingly solitary and retiring 
 in its habits, this bird ranges nearly throughout North 
 America, and winters in the more tropical regions. Mr. 
 Wagner reports the species as breeding very common in 
 New Canada, Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, the female 
 adhering most persistently to her nest, and defending it 
 very bravely on leaving it. 
 
 THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. 
 
 The White-eyed Vireo (Vireo noveboracensis), "noted for 
 its sprightly manners and emphatic voice," is but seldom 
 found here. Mr. Ringueberg, of Lockport, has found it 
 breeding near that city. The nest, now before me, is almost 
 precisely like that of the Red-eye; built externally with 
 fibers of bark, interlaced with webby material, lined with 
 something brown, which appears to me to be the finest shreds 
 of the bark of the wild grape-vine. The nest has one pecul- 
 iar mark, however. It is well ornamented with bits of 
 newspaper, in addition to the dried leaves, bits of wasps' 
 nests, and "paper-like capsules of the spiders' nests," so 
 common to the nests of the Vireo; and thus the bird main- 
 tains its right to the name of Politician, given it by Wilson. 
 This nest was in a bush in a small thicket. The single egg 
 it contained was very similar to the egg of the Red-eye, but 
 smaller, and the fine specks on the pure white ground, black 
 or nearly so. 
 
 The bird is 5 inches long; olive-green above, the wings 
 
THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. 255 
 
 and tail being dusky, with feathers edged with greenish; 
 throat light-ash; sides of the head, breast, and flanks bright 
 yellow; thus having more yellow than any other Vireo except 
 the Yellow-throat; wing-bars yellowish- white; vent white; iris 
 white. On the whole, this is rather a southern bird, and 
 barely reaches Western New York and Southern New 
 England. Partial to thickets, especially about swamps, it is 
 local in its distribution, and may be associated with the 
 smilax or green-briar. The vocal habits of this bird are 
 wholly different from those of the rest of the Vireos. Mr. 
 Burroughs says: "The song of this bird is not particularly 
 sweet and soft; on the contrary, it is a little hard and shrill, 
 like that of the Indigo-bird or Oriole; but for brightness, 
 volubility, execution, and power of imitation, he is unsur- 
 passed by any of our northern birds. His ordinary note is 
 forcible and emphatic, but, as stated, not especially musical; 
 chick-a-re r-chick, he seems to say, hiding himself in the low, 
 dense undergrowth, and eluding your most vigilant search, 
 as if playing some part in a game. But in July or August, 
 if you are on good terms with the sylvan deities, you may 
 listen to a far more rare and artistic performance. Your 
 first impression will be that that cluster of azaleas, or that 
 clump of swamp-huckleberry, conceals three or four differ- 
 ent songsters, each vying with the others to lead the chorus. 
 Such a medley of notes, snatched from half the songsters of 
 the field and forest, and uttered with the utmost clearness 
 and rapidity, I am sure you cannot hear short of the 
 haunts of the genuine Mockingbird. If not fully and accu- 
 rately repeated, there are at least suggested the notes of the 
 Robin, Wren, Catbird, High-hole, Goldfinch and Song- 
 sparrow. The pip, pip of the last is produced so accurately 
 that I verily believe it would deceive the bird herself; and 
 the whole uttered in such rapid succession that it seems as 
 
256 THE WHITE-EYED VIREO. 
 
 if the movement that gives the concluding notes of one 
 strain must form the first note of the next. The effect is 
 very rich, and, to my ear, entirely unique. The performer 
 is very careful not to reveal himself in the meantime; yet 
 there is a conscious air about the strain that impresses me 
 with the idea that my presence is understood and my 
 attention courted. A tone of pride and glee, and, occasion- 
 ally, of bantering jocoseness, is discernible. I believe it is 
 only rarely, and when he is sure of his audience, that he dis- 
 plays his parts in this manner." 
 
 " Next after the Warblers, the Greenlets (Vireos) are the 
 most delightful of our forest birds, though their charms 
 address the ear, and not the eye. Clad in simple tints that 
 harmonize with the verdure, these gentle songsters warble 
 their lays unseen, while the foliage itself seems stirred to 
 music. In the quaint and curious ditty of the White-eye 
 in the earnest voluble strains of the Red-eye in the tender 
 secret that the Warbling Vireo confides in whispers to 
 the passing breeze he is insensible who does not 
 hear the echo of thoughts he never clothes in words." 
 (Coues). 
 
 The strictness with which this group of birds is defined 
 as a family, alike in size, structure, color, and habits, is cer- 
 tainly matter for reflection. For instance, how comes each 
 Vireo to build that neat, cup-shaped, pensile nest, so peculiar 
 to the family, and so unlike that of any other bird? Why is 
 a Vireo's egg so unique? or, why should it be fashioned 
 almost as from the same mould, and colored as if by the 
 same brush? Comes all this by chance? Is it simply a 
 self-evolved fact? Is it not rather a bit of that great 
 and exact system of nature, which implies the working 
 out of a perfect plan, after the design of an Infinite Intelli- 
 gence? 
 
THE BROWN THRUSH. 257 
 
 THE BROWN THRUSH. 
 
 As I stroll along the edge of the woods during the fore- 
 noon, I am greeted by a clear, voluble song, quite varied, 
 and very musical, having an overflowing spontaneity, al- 
 together peculiar. The singer is the Brown Thrush (Harp- 
 orhynchus rufus]. Bearing a decided resemblance in song to 
 its near relative, the Catbird, it has nothing whatever of the 
 marvelous mimicry of its other near relative, the Mocking- 
 bird, all of them being related to the Thrushes proper. 
 The spirited and very rapid warble of this so-called Thrush 
 is exceedingly animating, and is susceptible of a great 
 variety of interpretations. To Thoreau, while planting his 
 beans, it seemed to say: "Drop it, drop it cover it up, 
 cover it up pull it up, pull it up, pull it up;" Audubon 
 compared it to "the careful lullaby of some blessed mother 
 chanting her babe to repose;" while Wilson was led to say, 
 "we listen to its notes with a kind of devotional ecstasy, 
 as a morning hymn to the great and most adorable Creator 
 of all." It has a novel and. most pleasing sweetness to me, 
 as this bird is but a rare resident in this part of the coun- 
 try. A nest before me, found near Lockport, corresponds 
 well with the description given by Wilson and other au- 
 thors quite flat, made outside of sticks and coarse stalks of 
 herbs, then dry leaves, and inside, of rootlets, contains four 
 or five bluish-tinted eggs, 1.05 X .78, well specked all over 
 with reddish-brown and pale lilac. It is placed in a bush, 
 sometimes in d tree or hedge, occasionally on the ground, 
 never far from it, in a thicket or bushy pasture along or near 
 the woods, such being the chosen places of its residence. 
 In some parts of the west, where it keeps to the narrow 
 strips of wood which skirt the streams of the prairies, and 
 which are frequently quite deeply overflowed in summer, 
 17 
 
258 THE BROWN THRUSH. 
 
 the nests are placed quite a distance from the ground, and 
 always above the highest mark of the flood. 
 
 When the nest of this species is approached, especially if 
 the young are hatched, the parents become greatly excited, 
 uttering a strong, metallic chip, which is alike noticeable 
 and characteristic. 
 
 Some 11.25 long and 13.30 in extent, the entire upper 
 parts reddish-brown, the lower parts, except the throat, 
 creamy-white, spotted and streaked with brown or black, 
 thus showing a relation to the Thrushes it is especially 
 noticeable by means of its long tail, which it drops and 
 partly spreads as, with head and somewhat long bill thrown 
 forward, it perches and sings in full view. 
 
 Audubon's fine picture of a scene he witnessed a group of 
 Brown Thrushes driving the black snake from a nest as he 
 twines around its support, jostling out the eggs and squeezing 
 the life out of the mother-bird represents the neighborly 
 spirit and noble courage of this species. It is easily domesti- 
 cated and capable of remarkable friendship for man. One 
 kept by Dr. Bachman used to follow him about the yard and 
 garden. "The instant it saw me take a spade or a hoe," he 
 says," it would follow at my heels, and as I turned up the earth 
 would pick up every insect or worm thus exposed to view. I 
 kept it for three years, and its affection for me cost it its life. 
 It usually slept on the back of my chair, in my study, and one 
 night the door being accidentally left open, it was killed by 
 a cat. I once knew a few of these birds to remain the 
 whole of a mild winter in the State of New York in a wild 
 state." 
 
 Mr. Bartram, the distinguished naturalist of Philadel- 
 phia, and the friend of Wilson, furnished the latter with 
 the following note, concerning the sagacity of a Brown 
 Thrush which he had domesticated. " Being very fond of 
 
THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 259 
 
 wasps, after catching them, and knocking them about to 
 break their wings, he would lay them down, then examine 
 if they had a sting, and, with his bill, squeeze the abdomen 
 to clear it of the reservoir of poison before he would swal- 
 low his prey. When in his cage, being very fond of dry 
 crusts of bread, if, upon trial, the corners of the crumbs 
 were too hard and sharp for his throat, he would throw 
 them up, carry and put them in his water-dish to soften, 
 and then take them out and swallow them." 
 
 The Brown Thrush is a bird of the Eastern United 
 States, wintering south, extending northward in summer 
 into the British Provinces, being very common about Great 
 Manitoulin Island, and breeding throughout its range. 
 
 THE SCARLET TANAGER. 
 
 I continue my early morning ramble along the edge of a 
 beautiful forest. The whole atmosphere seems to vibrate 
 to the song of birds. Some of them I hear for the first 
 time in the season. The song in yonder elm, for instance, 
 bearing quite a resemblance to that of the Robin, only 
 softer and less copious and fluent, is fresh and new this 
 morning; it is the song of the Scarlet Tanager (Pyranga 
 rubrd), and compares well with any song in the woods, short 
 of that of the Thrushes. And yet neither Wilson nor 
 Audubon mentions anything more of song for this bird 
 than the chip, chur-r-r-r, which is its common note. There, 
 I get a full view of him now, amidst the dark green of that 
 hemlock. Always slow and dignified in his motions, what 
 a brilliant beauty he is! Nearly the size of a Baltimore 
 or a Bobolink, 6.75 long and 11.73 in extent, he is 
 a pure, bright scarlet, with jet-black wings and tail. 
 Moving with a steady flight, he has lit on the side 
 of a moss-covered log, by a small pool, smooth as a 
 
260 THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 
 
 mirror. The scene is double, for the bird in the water is as 
 brilliant as that among the moss; and the water mirrors 
 not only the bird and the moss-covered log,, but the sky. 
 I sympathize with this little creature's peaceful pleasures as 
 he dips his bill and drinks, then straightens himself up, 
 fills his throat and warbles, and drinks and warbles again. 
 Did Eden itself afford anything prettier than this of its 
 kind? Even the Creator must experience delight in such 
 quiet joys of His creatures. 
 
 For the first week after his arrival the Tanager seems 
 anxiously waiting for his rather plain colored mate of 
 dull green above, yellowish beneath, and dusky wings and 
 tail. I once found her, however, delicately tinged with red, 
 a genuine beauty. During this time of waiting, he will 
 keep up his chip, chur-r-r, sometimes in a most animated 
 manner. Only occasionally will he indulge in his fine war- 
 ble. Meanwhile he keeps almost entirely to the woods. 
 Rarely he may be seen on the fence, or he may stray to the 
 orchard, or, if you are plowing near the woods, a half-dozen 
 of these scarlet beauties may visit your furrow, and glean 
 insects, according to their common habit of diet. 
 
 When the female arrives, shy and retiring, according to 
 the manner of female birds at such times, she at once 
 receives the most winning attentions. Now the song is 
 more frequent, the utterance of the common note may be 
 quite excited, and there is a display of graceful motions 
 and brilliant colors. See him stand before her with droop- 
 ing wings and spreading tail! How finely he hovers in her 
 presence, looking like burning scarlet amidst the black 
 cloud of his vibrating wings. Now she is joined to her 
 consort, and for the rest of the season the two are inseparable. 
 
 Soon they retire, for the most part, pretty well into the 
 forest, generally choosing as the site for their nest the 
 
THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 261 
 
 horizontal bough of some pretty good sized tree, anywhere 
 from ten to thirty feet from the ground; oftener near the 
 latter height, though I have pulled down the limb and 
 looked into the nest. A frail fabric, indeed, is this nest. 
 Begun with small twigs, stalks of weeds, strips of bark, 
 with a very little wool or down, perhaps, and lined with fine 
 rootlets or very fine dried spray of some evergreen (in this 
 locality generally the hemlock), the whole being somewhat 
 shallow, and very raggedly woven; one may almost count 
 the eggs from beneath. These, three or four, laid here late 
 in May, are .90 X .65 of an inch, delicate light-green, specked 
 or heavily spotted with reddish-brown. This nest is often 
 imposed upon by the Cow Blackbird. I once found one 
 containing four of these eggs, and but two of the Tanager's; 
 the former being in various stages of incubation, while the 
 latter were nearly fresh. 
 
 Wilson relates a beautiful incident concerning the parental 
 affection of the Tanager. He says: "Passing through an 
 orchard one morning I caught one of these young birds that 
 had but lately left the nest. I carried it with me about half 
 a mile to show it to my friend, Mr. William Bartram; and, 
 having procured a cage, hung it up in one of the large pine 
 trees in the botanic garden, within a few feet of the nest of 
 an Orchard Oriole, which also contained young, hopeful 
 that the charity or tenderness of the Orioles would induce 
 them to supply the cravings of the stranger. But charity 
 with them, as with too many of the human race, began and 
 ended at home. The poor orphan was altogether neglected, 
 notwithstanding its plaintive cries; and, as it refused to be 
 fed by me, I was about to return it back to the place where 
 I found it, when, towards the afternoon, a Scarlet Tanager, 
 no doubt its own parent, was seen fluttering round the cage, 
 endeavoring to get in. Finding this impracticable, he flew 
 
262 THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 
 
 off, and soon returned with food in his bill, and continued 
 to feed it till after sunset, taking up his lodgings on the 
 higher branches of the same tree. In the morning, almost 
 as soon as day broke, he was again seen most actively 
 engaged in the same affectionate manner; and, notwith- 
 standing the insolence of the Orioles, continued his benev- 
 olent offices the whole day, roosting at night as before. On 
 the third or fourth day he appeared extremely solicitous 
 for the liberation of his charge, using every expression of 
 distressful anxiety, and every call and invitation that nature 
 had put in his power for him to come out. This was too 
 much for the feelings of my venerable friend; he procured 
 a ladder, and, mounting to the spot where the bird was 
 suspended, opened the cage, took out the prisoner, and 
 restored him to liberty and to his parent, who, with notes of 
 great exultation, accompanied his flight to the woods. The 
 happiness of my good friend was scarcely less complete, 
 and showed itself in his benevolent countenance; and I 
 could not refrain saying to myself: If such sweet sensations 
 can be derived from a single circumstance of this kind, how 
 exquisite how unspeakably rapturous must the delight 
 of those individuals have been, who have rescued their 
 fellow-beings from death, chains, and imprisonment, and 
 restored them to the arms of friends and relations! Surely 
 in such God-like actions virtue is its own most abundant 
 reward." 
 
 In time of cherries, when the family is absent, and every- 
 thing is quiet, the Tanager may come even into the door- 
 yard to vary his insect diet with this fruit, so highly in favor 
 with the birds. 
 
 Late in summer, or early in autumn, the families move 
 south, the old male having changed his coat of scarlet for 
 one of green, sometimes quite a little spotted with yellow, 
 
THE SCARLET TAN ACER. 263 
 
 the young male a beautiful dark green, with black wings 
 and tail, the young female resembling her mother. Winter- 
 ing in the tropics, they range northward in spring, through 
 the Eastern United States, somewhat into the British 
 Provinces, though becoming rare already in Northern New 
 England. They breed throughout their range. 
 
 The observer of birds will soon notice that in about every 
 case of a brilliant male, the female is exceedingly plain, as 
 are also the young. Here is one of those suggestive facts, 
 which lead the reflecting mind to ask the reason why. 
 This does not look like mere chance; moreover, it serves a 
 purpose. Excepting a brief period in the breeding season, 
 the life of the female is of immensely greater importance 
 to the perpetuation of the species than that of the male ; 
 and the young, all unsuspecting of danger, need special pro- 
 tection. Their plain colors render them alike unattractive 
 to the eye of man, and inconspicuous to the bird or beast of 
 prey. Even the male sometimes has his gay livery only in 
 the breeding season, thus being protected in his southern 
 migration and early winter residence. Can any ingenious 
 conjecture of "Natural Selection " explain this significant 
 fact in coloration ? Is not this an evidence of mind in the 
 creation ? Or will the objector attribute a faculty of con- 
 scious design to matter itself ? Might he not then as well 
 believe in a personal Creative Intelligence ? How else shall 
 we explain this mysterious something revealed in matter, 
 which seems to know just what is fit under all circum- 
 stances ? 
 
 Similar to the above is the Summer Redbird (Pyranga 
 CRstivd]. The length is 7.20, the stretch 11.87; the male is 
 vermilion, brightest on the head, darker on the back, bright 
 beneath; wings and tail brownish. The female is olivaceous- 
 green above, yellowish below, wings darker or brownish. 
 
264 
 
 ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. 
 
 Young, similar to the female. The bill is thicker in this spe- 
 cies than in the Tanager. This is a bird of the Southern 
 States, extending into Southern Illinois in the west. Its nest 
 and eggs are similar to those of the Tanager, and its song 
 is loud and melodious. 
 
 ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. 
 
 That song coming from the edge of the woods, and 
 strongly resembling the finest performance of the Robin 
 only the warble is much more copious, continuously pro- 
 
 ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. 
 
 longed, and finely modulated with a peculiar richness, 
 purity, and sweet pathos in the tones is the music of the 
 Rose-breasted Grosbeak (Goniaphealudoviciand}. Jet black 
 with snow-white markings, the tint of rose on his breast 
 and under his wings, he is the most strikingly beautiful of 
 all our summer visitants ; and in the charm of song, as a 
 poet and artist of the woodlands, he may rank even with 
 
ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. 265 
 
 the Thrushes. About 8 inches long ; the head, neck and 
 upper parts are black ; bill, rump, under parts and mark- 
 ings on wings arid tail, white ; breast, rose-carmine ; lining 
 under the wings, delicate rose. The female has the upper 
 parts light brown, streaked with darker ; a line over the eye, 
 a slight one below it, and one over the middle of the crown; 
 tips of wing coverts, and under parts, white ; breast and 
 sides streaked and spotted with brown ; bright yellow under 
 the wings, and sometimes a tinge of the same on the upper 
 part of the breast. I have also seen a rose-tint mixed with 
 the yellow under her wings, and a most delicate tinge of the 
 purest rose on the white rump of the male. The large bill 
 of this bird, so strongly characterizing it and the group to 
 which it belongs, is in such harmony with the general shape 
 of the head as in nowise to mar its beauty. Indeed, the 
 fleshy-tinged whiteness of this prominent organ rather adds 
 to the elegance of the species. 
 
 The stranger to our sylvan retreats will scarcely meet 
 this charming bird; for its most agreeable summer 
 resort is in swampy woods, where the shadows are 
 deepened by tangled vines and a rank undergrowth, 
 where flowers are large and deeply tinted from rich vege- 
 table molds, and where the fragrant atmosphere is cool and 
 moist. Often it is found in the thickets forming a sort of 
 border-line between field and forest, and often in the lofty 
 arcades of the densest and darkest woodlands. In such 
 places, and rather local in his distribution, the male makes 
 his appearance in Western New York from the first to the 
 tenth of May; and stretching himself on tiptoe, delivers, in 
 a hurried and spirited manner, his rare and delightful 
 melody, giving one the impression of an exalted and unut- 
 terable joy in a language which means much, but leaves 
 much behind. Sometimes several appear together, vying 
 
266 ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. 
 
 with each other in song, and gamboling in the most sportive 
 manner. A few days later, when the leaves unfolding in 
 their soft down have fully expanded, the coy female appears. 
 Her plain light colors are strongly in contrast with the 
 ebony, chalk- white and deep rose of her consort; and as 
 she is almost voiceless, a glimpse of her amidst the thick 
 foliage is rather rare. 
 
 The nest of this species, built late in May, is a frail and 
 loosely-woven affair, placed in the top of a bush or on the 
 lower horizontal limb of a tree. It is composed outside of 
 small sticks, fine twigs, or coarse strawy material, orna- 
 mented with a few skeleton-leaves, and is lined with very 
 fine twigs of some evergreen (here, of the hemlock), or 
 with fine rootlets, sometimes being finished with horse-hair, 
 and the whole structure so loosely put together that one 
 can see through it from beneath. The eggs, four or five, 
 l.OOx-75, are light green, specked and spotted with brown 
 and lilac, the markings often thickened or wreathed around 
 the large, sometimes around the small, end. In every way 
 the nest and eggs bear a strong resemblance to those of 
 the Scarlet Tanager, the nests of both these brilliant species 
 being a sort of rude log-cabin affair, compared with the 
 elegant nest-homes of many of our feathered tribes. 
 
 I have more frequently found the male than the female 
 on the nest. When disturbed they both keep very near, 
 moving about the branches with much excitement, as they 
 emit a sharp, creaking kimp, kimp, quite unlike the note of 
 any other bird of my acquaintance. Though abundant 
 here in their migrations, and breeding very commonly, it 
 often requires a great deal of careful watching to get a 
 glimpse of even the male. So shy and retiring is he at nearly 
 all times as to be much more frequently heard than seen. 
 He has been in favor as a cage-bird, and is said by some 
 
ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK. 26 T 
 
 to sing freely in the night. Though he belongs to the 
 Sparrows and Finches, and is therefore a seed and grain- 
 eating bird in structure, he devours multitudes of insects. 
 In early autumn, as the young males go south, resembling 
 the female in color and marking, only much darker and 
 richer, and delicately tinged with rose on the throat and 
 breast, on the crown, and under the wings, they are truly 
 beautiful. 
 
 Wintering in the tropics, migrating through Eastern 
 North America, rather rare in New England, but not un- 
 common in Nova Scotia, the Rose-breast breeds from the 
 Middle States to the latitudes of Labrador. It will thus 
 be seen to belong to the Canadian as well as to the Alle- 
 ghanian Fauna. 
 
 The Blue Grosbeak (Goniaphea ccerulea), some 7.25 long, the 
 male blue, the female brown, is a southern species, reaching 
 the District of Columbia, or even Pennsylvania in the east, 
 and breeding commonly about Manhattan, Kansas, in the 
 west. Excepting its greater size, it bears a great resem- 
 blance to the Indigo Bird in color, song, and nidification. 
 The nest is in a tree not many feet from the ground. It is 
 rather bulky, composed externally of paper, weeds, strings, 
 bits of cotton or wool and cast-off snake-skins, and is lined 
 with rootlets, fine grasses or horse-hairs. The three or four 
 oval eggs, .95X-62, are pale-blue. 
 
 The Evening Grosbeak (Hesperiphona vespertind) is a 
 straggler from the northwest. Some 7.50 -8.50 long, "dusky 
 olivaceous; brighter behind; forehead, line over eye and 
 under tail-coverts, yellow; crown, wings, tail, and tibiae 
 black, the secondary quills, mostly white; bill greenish- 
 yellow, of immense size." (Coues.) It is noted for its 
 melodious evening song. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE SWAMP, THE FIELD, AND THE LAKE. 
 
 IN all the domain of nature there is nothing which closely 
 resembles the nidification of birds. Certain reptiles lay 
 eggs, but, properly speaking, make no nest; nor are their eggs, 
 which differ very materially from those of birds, incubated 
 by the warmth of their bodies. Every animal comes from 
 an egg, but in the case of mammalia, the young are brought 
 forth alive, and nourished by the milk of the female parent. 
 In the case of a bird, whether moving in the air or on the 
 water, lightness is a prime necessity. Hence, in bringing 
 forth their numerous progeny, they do not perform the 
 office of gestation; but the nest, and the external warmth of 
 the body, so well secured by the plumage, serve the purpose 
 of the uterine organs in the mammalia. Wonderful indeed is 
 that internal impulse of instinct, by which the bird is in- 
 duced to make a nest, and by which it is guided in the loca- 
 tion and manner of constructing the same. How came that 
 mother-bird to know she needed a nest ? Who instructed 
 her to adapt it to its peculiar purpose ? What strange power 
 keeps her on the nest till the young are brought forth ? 
 
 For the most part, the different species of birds have cer- 
 tain well-defined plans for building their nests, as well as 
 certain places for locating them. The nest is placed on the 
 limbs of a tree or bush, in a natural or prepared cavity, in 
 an excavation of the earth, in some cemented structure, or, 
 
NIDIFICA TIOiV. 269 
 
 more frequently than anywhere else, on the ground. Again 
 these nests are variously formed and joined together. They 
 are flat and loosely built of coarse materials, in the case 
 of most birds of prey and Herons, and these birds are called 
 platform-builders; or, they are more or less cup-shaped, 
 rimmed up, as in the case of the majority of nests built 
 about trees and bushes, and on the ground; or, they are 
 more or less basket-shaped, as, for example, the nests of the 
 Red-winged Blackbird and the Vireos; or, they are sewed 
 together, as those of the Orioles, or that of the famous 
 Tailor-bird; or, they have the structure of a loose felt; or, 
 they are dome-shaped. Hence, some very intelligent writers 
 have attempted to classify birds according to their styles of 
 nidification, calling them carpenters, masons, miners, plat- 
 form-builders, basket-makers, felt-makers, weavers, cement- 
 ers, tailors, etc. But this method of classification fails to 
 conform to any other system, and bears no relation what- 
 ever to the most important data for determining orders. 
 Birds so similar in structure and habit, as to represent the 
 same order, may vary essentially in their nidification. Most 
 kinds of Hawks, for instance, build platform-nests in trees, 
 while other kinds construct quite different nests on the 
 ground, and others still lay their eggs in cavities of trees, 
 almost without any nest whatever. The different kinds of 
 Swallows also adopt widely different modes of nesting, some 
 occupying cavities in trees or stumps, while others are 
 miners, tunneling a cavity into the ground, and others still 
 are cementers. Besides, the above method is imperfect in 
 itself, failing to make provision for some very important 
 groups, as those which commonly occupy cavities already 
 prepared, or those which lay their eggs on the ground with- 
 out any nest, or those which build their nests, raft-like, on 
 the water. Nor does the same species always construct or 
 
270 NIDIFICA TION. 
 
 place its nest in the same way. The Song Sparrow is gen- 
 erally a ground-builder, but in the latter part of the season 
 it frequently places its nest in a hedge or in a low bush. 
 The Crow Blackbirds, in these parts, invariably build in a 
 tree, but in the south, Audubon found them appropriating 
 the cavities of trees, while Wilson not infrequently found 
 them a sort of parasite on the nest of the Fish Hawk. 
 
 For the most part, birds' eggs are objects of great beauty. 
 Their form is unique and fine, their surface highly finished, 
 and their colors and markings often elegant. How strongly 
 differentiated too, generally, are the eggs of the birds of 
 each family! The blue-green eggs of the Thrushes; the 
 translucent white eggs of the Woodpeckers; the delicate, 
 white gems, specked with red, deposited by Titmice, Nut- 
 hatches and Creepers; the roundish, pure- white eggs of the 
 Owls; the light bluish-green eggs of the Herons; and the 
 smooth-shelled, creamy or green-tinted eggs of the Ducks, 
 are all data for classification to the naturalist. 
 
 Richard Owen, the great comparative anatomist of Eng- 
 land, after giving the complicated and wonderful history of 
 an egg in its various stages till it reaches perfection; and 
 after showing the nice contrivances in the yolk and albu- 
 men, by which the cicatricle or germ is always held upper- 
 most, no matter how many times the egg is turned over, in 
 order to keep it in contact with the sitting dam, and so 
 secure incubation and protect it from jars or injuries in 
 harsh movements; and after showing how " the domed form 
 of the hard shell enables it to bear the superincumbent 
 weight of the brooding mother," well says: "How these 
 modifications of the oviparous egg in anticipatory relation to 
 the needs and conditions of incubation can be brought 
 about by 'selective' or other operations of an unintelligent 
 nature is not conceivable by me." 
 
BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. 271 
 
 These different birds' eggs, placed in varied and artistic 
 styles of nests, make bird-nesting peculiarly fascinating, 
 especially when it gratifies a thirst for knowledge. Then 
 the careful manner in which many nests are hidden away 
 among grass and foliage, or placed in remote regions, almost 
 beyond the reach of civilization, makes them objects of an 
 exciting curiosity, and contributes greatly to their value. 
 
 One of my most interesting places for the study of birds 
 in their breeding haunts is Tonawanda Swamp, bordering 
 Orleans County on the south, extending into Genesee County 
 southward, and far to the eastward and westward. Very 
 different indeed is the character of its various localities. 
 Here, in the midst of an almost undisturbed wilderness are 
 glassy ponds and coves, where various water-birds revel in 
 their migrations, and in the vicinity of which some rear their 
 young. Here are miry marshes, tracts of fallen trees par- 
 tially submerged, forests and low lands of dense shrubbery 
 standing in the water a great part of the year; dense groves 
 of cedar, extensive moss-bogs, cranberry marshes, and wild 
 meadows dry in summer and in early autumn. It is a very 
 paradise of wild flowers, shrubs, climbing and running vines, 
 and plants both delicate and curious. 
 
 BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. 
 
 On a beautiful morning, the 7th of May, I enter one of the 
 cedar groves of the above region. In these deep shadowy 
 recesses I hear in various directions the song of the Black- 
 throated Green Warbler (Dendrceca virens]. The notes are 
 most peculiar, and once identified can never be forgotten. 
 Many writers have described this song, for it seems to sug- 
 gest' to almost every one some fancied phrase. One has 
 given it as " Hear me Saint Ther-e-sa" while one of my 
 private correspondents represents the song by the ditty, 
 
272 BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. 
 
 "A little bit of bread and no cheese j" and one distinguished 
 
 writer has indicated it simply by straight lines, thus, 
 
 ^~ . In all these attempts I can detect a fair de- 
 scription of the song, though none of them would have been 
 suggested to my ear. I never hear the song, however, with- 
 out thinking of the following resemblance : " Wee-wee-su- 
 see," each syllable uttered slowly and well drawn out; that 
 before the last in a lower tone than the two former, and the 
 last syllable noticeably on the upward slide; the whole being 
 a sort of insect tone, altogether peculiar, and by no means 
 unpleasing. It seems somehow to harmonize finely with 
 pines, larches and hemlocks. 
 
 The ordinary four syllables of this ditty are sometimes 
 increased in number in the first part, sounding like wee-wee- 
 wee-wee-su-see, and it is then uttered more hurriedly, making 
 you feel that a breeze may soon spring up among the pines; 
 and generally the different strains are intermixed with sharp 
 chipping notes, making the bird appear more spirited as it 
 nears you sufficiently to bring these metallic notes within 
 hearing. 
 
 Many a time have I strained my eyes after this little song- 
 ster, looking up into the thick cedars till my neck seemed 
 almost dislocated, and getting only an occasional glimpse 
 of him, so shy is he as he moves leisurely about in these 
 shadowy abodes. A sight of him, however, well rewards the 
 effort, for he is a rare beauty. About 5.00 long, moulded 
 after the Dendroeca, the olivaceous-green above often contains 
 fine triangular spots of black; the dusky wing and tail 
 feathers have a narrow, outward edge of white, while the 
 cheeks of lemon-yellow with a wavy line of blackish through 
 the eye, the white bars across the wing, and the jet-black 
 throat, breast and sides bounding the greenish white under 
 parts, differentiate him strongly. The colors and markings 
 
BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. 273 
 
 of the female are similar, but generally more obscure, al- 
 though I have seen her almost as fine as the male. 
 
 This Warbler is always to be associated with evergreen 
 groves and forests. In New England it is found among 
 the pines, here among the cedars and hemlocks. As its 
 nest is placed well up in the almost impenetrable thickets 
 of these branches, it is exceedingly difficult to find. In 
 this (Tonawanda) swamp, where the bird resides in abund- 
 ance throughout the summer, I have searched for its nest 
 days at a time, lying on the ground and watching the birds 
 in all their movements, and then climbing into the trees 
 and continuing to observe them while they kept up their 
 flitting motions and their song, almost constantly through- 
 out the day, and even into the dusk of the evening; but 
 never did I succeed in finding the nest in this locality. On 
 the 17th of last June (1881), at the foot of the Lecloche 
 Mountains, just north of Great Manitoulin Island, on the 
 Georgian Bay, I finally found the nest. About half a mile 
 from the bay, where the rushing waters of Lacloche Creek 
 left a lake in the mountains for this grand outlet, I had dis- 
 covered the Warblers to be very numerous the Black- 
 throated Blue, the Yellow-rump or Myrtle Bird, the Yellow- 
 backed Blue, the Black -and -yellow or Spotted, the 
 Chestnut-sided, and I think I also heard the Black-poll 
 Warbler. But so tormentingly numerous were the black 
 flies, mosquitoes, and gnats, or " no-see-ums," as the Indi- 
 ans call them, that to remain there for observation was 
 unendurable. Again and again did I apply the olive oil 
 and tar, so highly recommended as a preventive of this 
 nuisance, but it relieved me only a little longer than while 
 I was rubbing it on. Noticing that the Indians in my 
 vicinity made their half-open wigwams apparently free 
 from these vermin by a smudge in front, or to the wind- 
 18 
 
274 BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER. 
 
 ward, I concluded to profit by their example, and setting a 
 match to a few dry leaves and shreds of birch-bark, upon 
 which I piled green hemlock boughs, I soon had a relief, 
 which was both complete and agreeable; the hemlock giv- 
 ing off a most delightful fragrance, as well as an abundance 
 of smoke, in combustion. For a radius of several rods 
 around me my minute tormentors were obliged to flee; and 
 on a bed of moss surrounded by the delicate and odorous 
 little twin-flower (that beauty of the northern parts of both 
 the Old World and the New, so greatly admired by, as well 
 as named after, the great Linnaeus), I continued my obser- 
 vations in peace. For a while I watch a pair of little Yel- 
 low-backed Blue Warblers, tugging at a bunch of so-called 
 long-green moss alias usnea hanging from the dead limb 
 of a tall hemlock; but I am soon diverted by the near 
 approach of a Black-throated Green Warbler, hopping 
 about very nervously, her mouth full of small, green larva. 
 Understanding the sign full well, I am all attention, and the 
 bird seems equally attentive to me. For some time she 
 dallies and delays, but the knowledge of hungry little 
 mouths overcomes the parent's hesitation, and in a more or 
 less zigzag line, now behind the thick branches and now in 
 plain sight, she soon reaches the nest; which, behold ! is on 
 the limb of a young hemlock, just above my head. " So near 
 and yet so far!" full well applies to bird-nesting. Not a 
 few birds deserve but little sympathy in the loss of their 
 nests they are such witches at hiding them away! No 
 time to lose. I hug the tree and scramble to the nest, some 
 twenty feet from the ground, a few feet from the trunk, and 
 where the limb sends out several small boughs. The founda- 
 tion of the structure is of fine shreds of bark of the white 
 birch, fine dry twigs of the hemlock, bits of fine grass, 
 weeds, and dried rootlets, intermixed with usnea, and lined 
 
BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. 275 
 
 with rootlets, fine grass, some feathers, and horse-hair. It 
 was rather loose, open, and bulky, and contained four 
 young, partly fledged. Failing to find the eggs for myself, 
 I resort for description to a set from Reading, Massachu- 
 setts, in Professor Ward's collection at Rochester, N. Y. 
 They are four in number, about .70 x -49, creamy-white, 
 having a well-defined and beautiful wreath of spots and 
 small blotches of red, brown and lilac, intermixed with a 
 few specks of black. 
 
 Wintering in Cuba, Mexico and Central America, Den- 
 drceca virens ranges through Eastern North America, breed- 
 ing from New York and Southern New England northward 
 to Newfoundland. It enters its breeding habitat by the 
 first week of May, and leaves in October. It has been found 
 in Greenland and in Europe as a straggler. 
 
 THE BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. 
 
 In this thick grove of cedars I am almost constantly within 
 sight or sound of the Black-and-white Creeping Warbler 
 {Mniotilta varid). About five inches long, spotted and 
 streaked all over, except a white space underneath, with 
 jet-black and chalk-white, this bird is very conspicuous as 
 it moves in a hopping, jerking manner and in a spiral 
 direction, very much in the style of the Brown Creeper, 
 along the trunks and larger limbs of trees. Like the latter, 
 too, it has the habit of descending to the lower part of the 
 trunk of a neighboring tree, when getting pretty well up; 
 but its sharply defined markings, especially the broad white 
 line over the head and back of the neck, cause it to be seen 
 much more readily than its little brown neighbor, which is 
 so similar in color and markings to the bark which it climbs 
 with such ease and gracefulness. But while his movements 
 are those of a Creeper, the structure of Mniotilta is that of a 
 
276 BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. 
 
 Warbler, except that his front toes are a little more joined 
 together at the base, and his hind toe a little longer and his bill 
 somewhat curved toward the tip. Very remarkable indeed is 
 this joint relationship of certain birds with two or more 
 different groups, so that it is only by a careful noting of 
 their stronger affinities that we can find their rank in classi- 
 fication. They serve as a sort of softening or blending of 
 the otherwise harsher boundaries of orders. 
 
 Not only does our little bird readily attract the eye; his 
 fine, soft and yet distinct song, ki-tsee, ki-tsee, ki-tsee, ki-tsee y 
 as slender to the ear as " hair-wire " to the eye, and rather 
 monotonous indeed, but so peculiar, so tender, so musical, 
 as even to soften and sweeten surrounding nature is 
 equally attractive and pleasing to the ear. Warbler or 
 Creeper, he is one of the most welcome and beloved com- 
 panions of the dark woods and deep, swampy ravines which 
 he is wont to inhabit. Always keeping more or less to the 
 lower story of his shadowy abodes, his nest is generally on 
 the ground, near the root of a decaying stump or tree, 
 and so placed that "an overhanging rock, a log, the branch- 
 ing roots of a tree, or herbage of the preceding year affords 
 protection." It is a rather loose and scanty structure of 
 dried leaves and grasses, strips of bark, or pine needles, 
 containing perhaps some vegetable down and horse-hair as 
 lining. 
 
 The eggs, averaging about four, .YOX-50 or a little 
 more, and somewhat pointed, are creamy white, finely 
 specked, more thickly around the large end, with light brown 
 and a little pale lilac. The situation of this Warbler's nest 
 seems to vary considerably, however, in some cases. In 
 Louisiana Audubon found it "usually placed in some small 
 hole in a tree." Nuttall found one "niched in the shelving 
 of a rock." Dr. Brewer reports one found in the drain of a 
 
BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. 277 
 
 house, while H. D. Minot found one u in the cavity of a tree 
 rent by lightning, and about five feet from the ground," 
 and another "on the top of a low birch stump, which stood 
 in a grove of white oaks." 
 
 A nest, received from Nova Scotia, found with callow 
 young on the 19th of June, was placed on the top of an old 
 stump, about two feet from the ground, so set in the moss 
 and dried leaves as to be pretty much concealed, the top of 
 the stump somehow supporting several young maples. The 
 nest is quite deep and substantial, composed of leaves and 
 coarse bark-fibers throughout. It bears a decided resem- 
 blance to the nest of the Golden-winged Warbler. 
 
 The chipping, or ordinary alarm and conversational notes, 
 of the Black-and-white Creeper is somewhat varied, and 
 the female is not so clearly marked, having the black and 
 white of the throat of the male replaced by a dull white or 
 grayish. Migratory throughout Eastern North America, 
 even to the fur countries, a few only remaining in the extreme 
 Southern States in winter, this bird breeds throughout its 
 range, in this habit resembling the Brown Creeper rather 
 than the Warblers. 
 
 As I observe this Creeping Warbler, so industriously 
 gleaning the smaller insects with their eggs and larvae from 
 the bark of our forest trees, I am reminded of the economic 
 utility of our birds in the destruction of insects. The 
 Woodcock and Wilson's Snipe bore into the soft ground in 
 search of worms; the Sparrows, the Blackbirds, the 
 Thrushes, and many others, glean the caterpillars, grubs, 
 beetles and bugs upon its surf ace; the Barn and Eave Swal- 
 lows, the Purple Martin, the Bluebird and the Common 
 Wren, greatly reduce the spiders and other noxious insects 
 about our residences; King Birds, Shrikes, Orioles, Robins, 
 Goldfinches, the Yellow Warbler and the Warbling Vireo 
 
278 BLACK-AND-WHITE CREEPING WARBLER. 
 
 protect the gardens and orchards against their numberless 
 pests; the Warblers, Vireos, Creepers and Nuthatches guard 
 our noble forests from the topmost foliage to the lower 
 bark-crevices; while even the Hawks and Owls contribute 
 not a little to the same great work of keeping in check the 
 swarming hosts of insects. The feathered tribes are there- 
 fore our most useful allies against that part of animated 
 nature which more than any other endangers our welfare, 
 namely, those insects which threaten our very subsistence. 
 It may be doubted whether the indiscriminate slaughter of 
 any of our birds is wise. 
 
 Changing my position somewhat in this great swamp, I 
 come into a wet slashing, having a dense second growth of 
 evergreens and various kinds of hard wood. O, the native 
 vines and wild flowers which everywhere abound! How 
 completely that Virginia creeper has enveloped the trunk 
 and larger limbs of yonder tall elm, its digitate or hand- 
 shaped leaves of five pointed and serrate leaflets of dark and 
 glossy green, covering the bark like a thick luxuriant mantle, 
 and making the tree appear at once most graceful and 
 superb. That virgin's bower entwining its petioles so ele- 
 gantly around a clump of bushes, either in its bloom so like 
 a fall of light snow-flakes, or in the heavy plumes of its 
 fruitage, may vie with any member of its family, even the 
 gay hybrids of the Old World. The remains of that large 
 tree a very monarch of the forest, fallen generations ago 
 perhaps is enrobed in a thick plumose covering of hyp- 
 num mosses, variegated with star-flowers and mitreworts, in 
 a manner which defies description. And what shall we say 
 of the lady slippers, azalias, and honeysuckles, just about 
 to unfold their charms? Art can do much in the way of 
 placing and adjusting nature's beauties, but what can equal 
 the grace of wild vines, plants and flowers in their native 
 
THE CANADA WARBLER. 2 79 
 
 arrangements? The wild grape-vine will festoon the forest 
 into domes, arches, and colonades, till it would seem the 
 very haunt of faries and sylvan deities. Liverworts, lichens 
 and ferns will drape the scars, rents and chasms of the 
 earth's surface with an inimitable beauty. I have seen an 
 old decayed stump in the forest, so dressed up from base 
 to top in fine mosses, and the whole broad top such a mass 
 of enchanter's nightshade with its delicate spray of leaves 
 and ethereal white blossoms, as to make it an object to be 
 coveted for the most royal domain. Had I enough of 
 Mother Earth that I could call my own, I would have a 
 flower garden according to nature; one which might show 
 no trace of human interference. If Adam and Eve had the 
 judgment and good taste generally attributed to them, in 
 some such manner, I think, must they have kept the Garden 
 of Eden. 
 
 THE CANADA WARBLER. 
 
 From a point in the thick bushes, somewhere near by, 
 there comes a song so peculiar both in enunciation and in 
 tone, that my genial companion in these sylvan studies 
 challenges my imitation of it. I finally resolve it, however, 
 into the following syllables: chi-reach-a-dee, reach-a-dee y 
 reach-a-dee-chi uttered in a hurried and spirited manner, 
 with a striking mixture of sibilant notes, and so much of 
 ventriloquism that it seems almost impossible to locate the 
 singer, though he be but a few yards distant. The bird, 
 moreover, is so shy and such an adept at concealment in 
 the thick foliage that I spend many minutes in the most 
 attentive observation before I can get even a glimpse of 
 him. Finally, while on hands and knees I am peering out 
 from under a thick bed of cinnamon ferns, the songster, all 
 unconscious of my presence, stands out in full view. About 
 5.50 long, the bluish-ash on the entire upper parts blends 
 
280 THE CANADA WARBLER. 
 
 with the shadows in the thicket, and the bright lemon-yel- 
 low of the entire under parts seems almost the effect of the 
 sunlight through the openings among the leaves; but there 
 is a broad collar of jet-black spots across the breast, over 
 the forehead and down the cheeks and sides of the neck, 
 where the bluish-ash of the upper parts joins the yellow of 
 the throat, the former color shading into clear black as it 
 meets the line these markings, along with the yellow eye- 
 lids, help me to define him as the Canada Warbler (Myio- 
 dioctes canadensis). I find the bird abundant here in almost 
 any swampy region throughout the breeding season; and 
 there is, I think, no appreciable difference between the sexes. 
 Having identified my specimen, and risen from my place of 
 concealment, the bird becomes greatly excited, hopping 
 about among the leaves, bowing and " courtesying " prettily 
 indeed, but not obsequiously, and uttering a sharp chipping 
 note. I am reminded by the white or flesh-colored legs 
 and feet that this is what is commonly called a Ground 
 Warbler, and that its nest, therefore, is on the ground. I 
 make diligent search, as I have often done since, but all in 
 vain. A Ground Warbler's nest is one of the very hardest to 
 find. Others, however, have been fortunate enough to find the 
 nest, and from them I make out the following description: 
 Mr. Burroughs found one in the bank of a stream; Mr. 
 Boshart, of Lowville, N. Y., found one sunk into the moss 
 on the side of an old log, while others generally report the 
 nest as found on the ground; Audubon alone describing it 
 as built otherwise " in the fork of a small branch of laurel, 
 not above four feet from the ground." It is coarsely and 
 rather loosely built of leaves, dried grasses, etc., lined with 
 horse-hair. The eggs, .68X.50, are white, marked with 
 brown and lilac, somewhat clouded at the large end, and 
 slightly specked all over. 
 
THE WINTER WREN. 281 
 
 Wintering beyond the United States, the Canada Warbler 
 extends through Eastern North America to Labrador, breed- 
 ing from New York northward. 
 
 I do not think this bird is as numerous far to the north or 
 northeast as it is in suitable places in this locality. Mr. 
 Chamberlain reports it as only an occasional summer resi- 
 dent in New Brunswick, and I did not find it in Nova 
 Scotia, nor does Mr. Downs, of Halifax, report it in his pri- 
 vate list of the Warblers sent to me. 
 
 Its bill bears a strong resemblance to that of a Flycatcher, 
 and it has therefore been called a Flycatching Warbler. 
 
 THE WINTER WREN. 
 
 Working my way back among the cedars to a spot where 
 the timber has been somewhat thinned by the axe of the 
 woodman, and where brush is piled up here and there, I am 
 startled by a most remarkable bird-song, which I have sev- 
 eral times heard in these parts before, but have never been 
 able to identify. Copious, rapid, prolonged and penetrating, 
 having a great variety of the sweetest tones, and uttered in 
 a rising and falling or finely undulating melody, from every 
 region of these " dim isles " this song calls forth the sweet- 
 est woodland echo. It seems as if the very atmosphere be- 
 came resonant. I stand entranced and amazed, my very 
 soul vibrating to this gushing melody, which seems at once 
 expressive of the wildest joy and the tenderest sadness. Is 
 it the voice of some woodland elf, breaking forth into an 
 ecstasy of delight, but ending its lyric in melting notes of 
 sorrow ? I strain my eyes this way and that way to get a 
 glimpse of the songster in the gloom of these damp, shadowy 
 regions, but cannot determine even the precise direction of 
 the sounds, so much of ventriloquism is there in this won- 
 derful performance. Having turned to every point of the 
 
282 THE WINTER WREN. 
 
 compass, I finally discover the singer. He is perched on a 
 small dry limb of a cedar a few feet from the ground. The 
 volume and tone of the song lead me to expect a bird at 
 least as large as a Thrush, but lo, he is one of the most di- 
 minutive of the feathered tribes the Winter Wren ! I can- 
 not be mistaken, for quite near and in full view, his short 
 tail thrown forward and his head partially raised, I can see 
 his breast swell and tremble while he several times repeats 
 his song. About 4.00 long, and thus about a half inch 
 shorter than the Common or House Wren, and of the same 
 reddish-brown waved with darker, the Winter Wren (Anor- 
 thura troglodytes van hyemalis) is to be distinguished by his 
 much shorter tail, and his white or whitish markings on the 
 sides of the head and on the primaries. But one does well 
 to make out this much while the bird is "in the bush ;" so 
 diminutive, so nearly the color of dried bark and leaves, 
 and dodging in and out of rock-crevices, brush heaps and 
 bushes with the ease and rapidity of a mouse, it will be 
 necessary, in most cases, to obtain the bird " in the hand " 
 in order to identify it. 
 
 Though this species may be heard occasionally in the 
 cool cedar groves of Tonawanda Swamp throughout the 
 breeding season, I have not been one of the very few fortu- 
 nate enough to find its nest. Audubon found two nests. 
 One was in the pine woods of Pennsylvania, near Mauch 
 Chunk, on the lower part of the trunk of a tree, "a pro- 
 tuberance covered with moss and lichens, resembling those 
 excrescences which are often seen on our forest trees, with 
 this difference, that the aperture was perfectly rounded, 
 clean, and quite smooth. * * * Externally, it measured 
 seven inches in length, four and a half in breadth; the 
 thickness of its walls, composed of moss and lichens, was 
 nearly two inches; and thus it presented internally the 
 
THE WINTER WREN. 283 
 
 appearance of a narrow bag, the wall, however, being re- 
 duced to a few lines where it was in contact with the bark 
 of the tree. The lower half of the cavity was compactly 
 lined with the fur of the American Hare, and in the bottom 
 or bed of the nest there lay over this about half a dozen of 
 the large, downy abdominal feathers of our Common Grouse, 
 (Tetraoumbellus). The eggs were of a delicate blush color, 
 somewhat resembling the paler leaves of a partially decayed 
 rose, and marked with dots of reddish-brown, more numer- 
 ous towards the larger end." The second nest he found 
 "was attached to the lower part of a rock," on the bank 
 of the Mohawk River. It was similar to the other, only 
 smaller, and contained six eggs, the same number as found 
 in the former. 
 
 The nest, with eggs of this species upon which our later 
 ornithologists have been pretty much dependent for their 
 descriptions, was found by W. F. Hall in Eastern Maine; 
 the " nest built in an unoccupied log-hut, among the fir- 
 leaves and mosses in a crevice between the logs. It was 
 large and bulky, composed externally of mosses, and lined 
 with feathers and the fur of hedge-hogs. The shape was 
 that of a pouch, the entrance being neatly framed with 
 sticks, and the walls very strong, thick, and firmly com- 
 pacted. Its hemlock framework had been made of green 
 materials, and their agreeable odor pervaded the whole 
 structure." 
 
 Mr. H. D. Minot says: "Five eggs, not quite fresh, 
 which I took from a nest in the White Mountains on the 
 23d of July (probably those of a second set), were pure 
 crystal-white, thinly and minutely specked with bright 
 reddish-brown, and averaging about .70X.50 of an inch. 
 The nest, thickly lined with feathers of the Ruffed Grouse, 
 was in a low, moss-covered stump, about a foot high, in a 
 
284 THE SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN. 
 
 dark, swampy forest, filled with tangled piles of fallen trees 
 and branches. The entrance to the nest on one side was 
 very narrow, its diameter being less than an inch, and was 
 covered with an overhanging bit of moss, which the bird 
 was obliged to push up on going in." 
 
 In 1878 Mr. James Bradbury, of Maine, found three nests, 
 one "sunk into the thick moss which enveloped the trunk 
 of a fallen tree," and two placed under the roots of fallen 
 trees. All the above nests seemed to resemble each other in 
 being more or less globular, with an entrance at the side, 
 the external structure being of moss, or of moss and twigs, 
 and thickly lined with fur and feathers; each nest being in- 
 geniously concealed or ensconced away. The eggs, five or 
 six, some .65X-50, are crystal-white, specked and spotted 
 with reddish-brown, the markings being generally distribu- 
 ted or gathered about the large end. 
 
 This species, closely allied to the Common Wren of Eu- 
 rope, occupies all North America, wintering from the Mid- 
 dle States, or even New England, southward; and breeding 
 from about the same point northward, especially in Maine 
 and even in Labrador. 
 
 Considering the smallness of its wings, and its ordinarily 
 short flights, the immense distances of its migrations have 
 always been a great mystery to ornithologists. Alaska has 
 a larger variety of this species, named Anorthura alascensis. 
 
 THE SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN. 
 
 As I traverse an open marsh in another part of this same 
 swamp, a part which is wet in the late fall and the early 
 spring, but dry in summer, I find the Short-billed Marsh 
 Wrens (Cistothorus stellaris) in considerable numbers. If 
 dependent on the eye merely it would be exceedingly diffi- 
 cult to find these diminutive creatures, as they are nearly all 
 
THE SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN. 285 
 
 the time down out of sight in the clumps of bushes, the tall 
 grasses or the still taller sedges; but one is constantly aided 
 in the search for them by their noisy notes and odd songs. 
 Chip-chip-chi-chi-chi-chi, or tsip-tsip-tse-tse-tse-tse the first 
 two or three notes being uttered more slowly, the rest 
 very rapidly, and all in a sharp, metallic and spirited tone 
 may represent the song, which is not very musical, 
 indeed, but rather pleasing, and decidedly enlivening to 
 these otherwise quiet marshes. Like any other Wren, this 
 species is exceedingly sprightly in all its motions, and is a 
 very adept at clinging to and sliding up and down the 
 culms of grasses and sedges tipping, tilting and tossing 
 its tail in every conceivable manner. In voice and in action 
 it is certainly an intensely animated bit of nature. Scarcely 
 4.50 long, and very slender, it is streaked with light and 
 dark brown over the head, nearly black, mixed with some 
 reddish brown and streaked with white on the back, wings 
 and tail dusky, barred with light brown, under parts gray- 
 ish-white, shading into light brown on the sides. 
 
 The nest, about the size and shape of a common cocoa- 
 nut, composed of dried and thoroughly bleached grasses 
 and sedges, is closely compacted, with a clear round open- 
 ing on the side near the top, and is more or less lined with 
 vegetable down. This structure rests on the ground at the 
 roots of the sedges, or is tied to their culms a very few inches 
 from the ground. In this and corresponding localities it is 
 made early in June. The eggs, some 7 or 8, about .54X.48, 
 so rather roundish (Dr. Cones reports them "rather elon- 
 gate") are of a fine porcelain-white, having the highly 
 finished surface of the Woodpecker's eggs. These white 
 eggs are an anomaly among Wrens. 
 
 The Short-billed Marsh Wrens are said by Nuttall 
 who was the first to point them out as different from the 
 
286 MARYLAND YELLOW-THROATED WARBLER. 
 
 Common Marsh Wren to "spend much of their time in 
 quest of insects, chiefly crustaceous, which, with moths, 
 constitute their principal food." 
 
 This species differs from the Common Marsh Wren in its 
 notes; in its shorter bill; in its darker colored breast; in its 
 inhabiting dryer places its nest never, I think, being placed 
 over water; in the position of its nest, always on or near the 
 ground being composed of bleached material and very com- 
 pactly made (wrongly figured by Audubon) and, particu- 
 larly, in its pure white eggs. 
 
 Wintering in the Southern States, the Short-billed Marsh 
 Wren breeds throughout the Eastern United States to New 
 England and Manitoba; but it is not nearly as generally 
 distributed as its cousin of the longer bill. It reaches these 
 middle districts early in May, and leaves early in September. 
 
 MARYLAND YELLOW-THROATED WARBLER. 
 
 Reaching a bog, where, in trying to cross, I sink at 
 every step into an almost bottomless bed of soft moss, I 
 hope to find something new. In respect to plants, I see at 
 once that I shall not be disappointed. Here is the curious 
 pitcher-plant in abundance. Its leaves, having the bowl, 
 handle and spout of a pitcher, are full of water; and its 
 flower, which will appear in a few weeks, will be almost as 
 curious as its leaves. Here too, I find the marvelous little 
 sundew, Drosera rotundi folia, about which the evolutionist, 
 Darwin, has written so much. The little round leaves are 
 thickly beset with transparent bristles, each of which bears 
 on its extremity a viscid globule as clear as a dew-drop. 
 These glandular hairs are said to be sensitive, and to entrap 
 insects, but I cannot make the experiment succeed. 
 
 Around the edge of this bog, among the varied shrubbery 
 belonging almost entirely to the Heath and Rose families, 
 
MARYLAND YELLOW-THROATED WARBLER. 287 
 
 I hear the song of the Maryland Yellow-throat (Geothlypis 
 trichas], a warbler quite common to the shrubbery of our 
 swamps and low lands. The song of this bird is very dis- 
 tinctive and easy to recognize. Weech-a-tee, weech-a-tee, 
 weech-a-tee, weech-a-tee, in loud whistling tones, slowly and 
 distinctly uttered, and strongly accented on the first syllable 
 of each repetition, represent it to my imagination. Some- 
 times, however, a syllable of each group of notes is left out, 
 making the melody sound like weech-ee, weech-ee, weech-ee, 
 weech-ee. The song is very constant, but the singer is rather 
 shy, keeping out of sight in the thick foliage the greater 
 part of the time. Nearly 5.00 long, and having a very short, 
 round wing for a warbler, the male is olive-green above, 
 becoming grayish on the back of the head and neck, throat 
 and under parts yellow, becoming lighter on the belly; over 
 the forehead and eyes and down the cheeks is a broad band 
 of jet-black, bordered behind with ash which shades into 
 the grayish-green beyond ; legs, flesh-color. The female 
 lacks the black and ash on the head, and has the crown 
 brownish. In sprightliness of song and distinctive color of 
 plumage, this Warbler ranks high, being one of those bright, 
 melodious birds of the swamp which, like certain very brill- 
 iant and fragrant flowers of the same locality, are a de- 
 lightful offsetting to stagnant pools, quagmires, pestiferous 
 vapors, and tormenting insects. Like the rest of the War- 
 blers, it is a great destroyer of insects, without at any time 
 injuring the products of industry. 
 
 The nest of this species is on the ground near some stream, 
 or in a low, wet place at the roots of bushes; is generally 
 well sunken into the ground, made of dried leaves and 
 grasses, often lined with hair, and is sometimes arched over 
 after the manner of the Golden-crowned Accentor. Mr. W. 
 Brewster found a nest of this species on June 3d, 1875, in 
 
288 THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 the top of a ground juniper, some two feet from the ground. 
 The 4 or 5 eggs, some .70X-55, are white, specked and 
 spotted, sometimes wreathed with light brown and lilac. 
 Clear white eggs rarely, occur. 
 
 Wintering sparingly in our southern border, but mostly 
 beyond, the Maryland Yellow-throat breeds throughout the 
 Union, abundantly in the Middle States, and commonly in 
 New England and Nova Scotia. Audubon saw none in 
 Newfoundland nor in Labrador. 
 
 THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 Leaving the swamp and coming out into the broad mead- 
 ows in the vicinity, I am greeted by the newly-arrived 
 Bobolink (Dolichonyx oryzivorus). It is difficult to speak of 
 
 THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 the Bobolink without going into ecstasies. To say the 
 least, he is the finest bird of our fields and meadows. See 
 him mount that stake by the road-side! Every feather of 
 his jet-black front is partially raised, the elegant creamy- 
 white patch on the back of the head and neck is elevated into 
 a crest; his wings and scapulars, so finely marked with white, 
 
THE BOBOLINK. 289 
 
 are partially extended; and as he pours forth his marvelous 
 song, he waltzes gracefully to his own music, turning slowly 
 around, so that the beholder may have a fair view of all 
 sides. Now he launches into the air, and half hovering 
 half flying his song becomes even more resonant and pene- 
 trating; the loud, rich, liquid notes of his prolonged and 
 varied warble causing the air to vibrate over many acres of 
 the open field. The first tinkling tones are like those of a 
 fine musical box rapidly struck, then come the longer drawn 
 notes as of a rich viol or violin, and finally the sweet liquid, 
 limpid, gurgling sounds as of an exquisite bell-toned piano 
 lightly and skillfully touched. These several different 
 strains, variously modulated, are uttered with a rapid, gush- 
 ing volubility, which to an untrained ear might sound like 
 the performance of a whole chorus of songsters. As the 
 strain ceases, he drops down most gracefully with elevated 
 wings into the clover, or, grasping the elastic culms of the 
 taller grasses, swings proudly on his tiny perch. Each in- 
 dividual adopts his own territory and adheres to it, compell- 
 ing his intruding neighbor to retire to his own side of the 
 road or fence, and then returning to his own domain with 
 the air of independence and authority. Here he keeps up 
 his proud antics and charming melody some week or ten 
 days before the female arrives. Only 7.50 long, and very 
 nearly the colors and marking of a Sparrow the lighter 
 parts being simply a little more yellowish you would 
 never suspect her relation to such a gay consort. He recog- 
 nizes her at once, however, and begins his ardent demon- 
 strations. He sings and waltzes to her, hovers in front of 
 her, fairly rending his throat in the ardor of his musical per- 
 formance; and when she in her coyness, real or feigned, flees 
 from him, he pursues her closely, and they dash in and out 
 of bushes, trees, and fences with the most perilous speed. 
 19 
 
290 THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 More than once he slackens the chase for a few minutes, 
 alighting and throwing in a few of his finest musical flour- 
 ishes, and again renews it as ardently as ever, till at length 
 he completely wins the object of his passion. Now they are 
 seen together for a short time, and then the modest female 
 retires among the clover and the taller grasses of the lux- 
 uriant meadow; and, scooping out a rather deep cavity in 
 the ground, arranges a frail, loose nest of dried grasses, and 
 lays her 5 eggs averaging about .90X-67, white tinged 
 with brown, spotted, blotched, and clouded with several 
 shades of brown, and also a neutral shade of brownish-lilac. 
 She adheres most closely to her nest. In walking across 
 the field you may almost step on her before she will leave 
 her treasures. Then flying only a few feet, she is instantly 
 out of sight again; and unless you are a ready observer, or 
 have some knowledge of birds and nests, you will be puzzled 
 to know what you have found. As the Bobolink raises but 
 one brood, and in the thick grass, some time before the hay 
 is cut, its nest is but seldom seen by the farmer. 
 
 During the whole period of incubation the male is one 
 of the happiest of birds. Without any perceptible sense of 
 care, or of any misgiving whatever, he keeps up his gay per- 
 formances of waltzing, flight, and song, with but little 
 intermission, his beautiful figure adding greatly to the charms 
 of the summer landscape, and his far-reaching melody 
 harmonizing grandly with the joyousness of the season, 
 and ever cheering the husbandman in his long hours of toil. 
 
 If the Bay- winged Sparrow is "the poet of the plain, 
 unadorned pastures," the Bobolink is the poet of the luxu- 
 riant blooming meadows, announcing the beauty and the 
 promise of the fruit-blossoms, and hymning the bright hues 
 and the fragrance of the clover. It is the utterance of all 
 the youth and joy of spring of an unbounded hilarity. 
 
THE BOBOLINK. 291 
 
 In due time the young appear, a thrifty family, all clad 
 in the plain but beautiful habit of the female, having a great 
 deal of yellow, almost of bright yellow, on the under 
 parts. When they leave the nest the parents show the great- 
 est solicitude for them, flitting about in the most excited 
 manner, and chipping loudly when their domain is intruded 
 upon. 
 
 The nest of the Bobolink being so well hid away, and in 
 parts little infested by enemies, it would seem that the 
 species must sustain but a small loss during the breed- 
 ing season. 
 
 These birds have their casualties, however. Walking 
 once over a meadow along a little stream, I saw a young 
 Bobolink fluttering over the edge of the water; and going 
 up to it, saw something like a good sized stone just under 
 it, which I imagined had in some way fastened down the 
 bird so that it could not get away. Taking hold of the 
 supposed stone and lifting it out of the water to free the 
 bird, my friend accompanying me called out, "a turtle!" 
 Sure enough! a large turtle had been holding the bird by 
 the foot, but relinquished it on my interference. I do not 
 know which was the quickest, I to let go the turtle, or the 
 bird to fly away to the woods beyond. 
 
 Perhaps the bird, thinking this reptile a stone, had lit on 
 it to drink, and had thus been entraped by the treacherous 
 object. 
 
 About the 20th of August these birds are gathered in 
 flocks preparatory to migration. By this time the old males 
 have laid aside the gay livery of the breeding season, and 
 appear as plain and sparrow-like as the rest of the family. 
 Imagine the chagrin and disappointment of European bird 
 fanciers, in the early history of our country, who, having 
 captured Bobolink in all the glory of the breeeding season, 
 
292 THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 beheld him turn brown and spotted as a Sparrow and be- 
 come voiceless ere they reached the end of their long- 
 voyage homeward! Nor does this bird ever resume his 
 bright colors while caged. Exceedingly perplexing, too, 
 was this change of plumage to the first students of Ameri- 
 can ornithology, who saw the males migrate in immense 
 numbers to the north in spring, but saw none return to the 
 south in autumn. 
 
 As soon as the Bobolinks begin to flock for their very 
 leisurely fall migration, their whole manner is entirely 
 changed. Who, would imagine those immense flocks of 
 plain birds, flying high, and in the swift undulating manner 
 of the Goldfinch, over the marshes about Niagara River in 
 August, to be the same species which he saw enlivening the 
 meadows the spring before. That plain and subdued note 
 which it repeats quite leisurely quait, quait, quait- could give 
 no clue to the voice of the same bird a few weeks earlier. 
 But fire into the flock as they alight among the weeds and 
 grasses after the manner of Snowbirds in winter, and like 
 them, feed on seeds instead of insects, and you will find 
 them to be veritable Bobolinks in excellent condition, and 
 not at all of mean appearance, clad in their finely-marked 
 suits of greenish-yellow and brown. These autumnal mi- 
 grations continue through the day and the night, and pretty 
 much throughout the month of August along Niagara River 
 and along the shores of our Great Lakes in its vicinity. In 
 the day-time even, one often hears the familiar migratory 
 note above given, without being able to see the birds. On 
 looking carefully, however, one can see them flying very 
 high, seeming scarcely more than dark specks against the 
 sky. 
 
 As these birds move southward, they receive different 
 names according to their habits of diet. In Eastern 
 
THE YELLOW-WINGED SPARROW. 293 
 
 Pennsylvania, where they feed on the seeds of the reeds 
 along the rivers, they are called Reed-birds, and in the 
 south, where they feed on the rice, they are called Rice- 
 birds. 
 
 Wintering beyond our boundaries, this bird enters the 
 Eastern United States in large numbers, and reaching the 
 Middle States about the first of May, breeds from thence 
 northward to the Saskatchawan, and west to the Rocky 
 Mountains. To the eastward, Mr. Smith reports it as breed- 
 ing abundantly in Maine ; Mr. Chamberlain gives it as a 
 common summer resident in New Brunswick, particularly 
 in the valley of the St. John River, and I found it plentiful 
 last June in the Annapolis Valley, Nova Scotia, but did not 
 see it elsewhere in the Province. Mr. Maynard gives its 
 summer habitat between 38 and 48. Arriving in Western 
 New York during the first week in May, it reaches Maine 
 about the middle of that month, and New Brunswick about 
 the last. 
 
 On account of its short, thick bill, this bird was once called 
 a Bunting, but its general structure places it among the 
 Marsh Blackbirds or American Starlings; and as its white 
 markings are similar to those of a Skunk, it has also been 
 called the Skunk Blackbird. 
 
 THE YELLOW-WINGED SPARROW. 
 
 Perched on the fence by the roadside, in a neighborhood 
 called Pine Hill, is the Yellow-winged Sparrow (Coturniculus 
 passerinus). It is not at all common here, and seems confined 
 to certain dry or sandy fields. Some 5.00 long, with wings 
 much rounded and tail-feathers narrow and pointed, the 
 plumage above is dark brown, almost black, edged with 
 buff; head of the former color, with clear median line of the 
 latter; this bird is distinguishable from all other Sparrows 
 
294 THE YELLOW-WINGED SPARROW. 
 
 of its size in this locality, by its clear buff breast and the 
 bright yellow on the edge or shoulder of the wings. It has 
 also a small line of the last mentioned color from the base 
 of the bill over the eye. On the whole, it is a very light 
 colored Sparrow. 
 
 The fence is a rather high perch for this bird. It is gen- 
 erally seen on the ground or swinging on a spear of grass. 
 From some such lowly position it utters its humble song, 
 which is a faint but prolonged squeak, so much resembling 
 the shrilling of certain grasshoppers that an ordinary ear 
 would scarcely detect the difference. On listening closely, 
 however, and having identified the song, one will discover 
 that it is generally preluded and ended with a faint war- 
 ble. Unpretending as this song is, the singer is neverthe- 
 less ambitious; for on hearing another of its species perform- 
 ing near by, it will fly toward it, and, diving into the grass, 
 soon put it to silence. 
 
 The nest, which is on the ground, is built of dried grasses 
 and lined with hair, and resembles those of the Ground- 
 building Sparrows in general. The five eggs, some .76X-60 
 large for the size of the bird are pure white, specked 
 and spotted with reddish-brown, mostly about the large 
 end. They are laid early in June, the bird arriving in May. 
 It probably leaves in September for the south. As a 
 resident of Eastern North America, it is a southerly species, 
 going scarcely beyond the United States; indeed, becoming 
 rare already in the Northern States, while it is abundant to 
 the south. Its food is that of its kind in general insects 
 and seeds. 
 
 Henslow's Sparrow (Coturniculus henslowt) is a closely 
 allied species. " Resembling the last; smaller; more yellow- 
 ish above, and with sharp maxillary, pectoral and lateral 
 black streaks below; tail longer, reaching beyond the feet; 
 
THE AMERICAN SWAN. 295 
 
 bill stout." (Coues). Habitat: Eastern United States; 
 local, not common. 
 
 On a bright morning, on the 8th of May, I am on the 
 shore of Lake Ontario, at the mouth of Johnson's Creek. 
 The warm spring sun causes a soft white mist to rise from 
 the whole surface of the lake, giving this grand sheet of 
 water a most magnificent appearance like that of bur- 
 nished silver. From some distance out I can hear the 
 clangor of the voices of immense numbers of Loons, or 
 Great Northern Divers. The air is very salubrious, and 
 being in good health, I am conscious of an unutterable joy 
 in the contemplation of nature. Every breath is a soul- 
 stimulus, and physical existence is blissful. But in such 
 moments it is difficult to distinguish between that conscious- 
 ness which is of the soul, and that which is of the body, so 
 intimately do these two sources of the individual sense mix 
 and blend together; and even the material forms around us 
 have a spiritual ideal with which the mind may hold com- 
 munion. 
 
 THE AMERICAN SWAN. 
 
 In the midst of my reverie my attention is arrested by 
 the remains of a Swan (Cygnus americanus] , which have floated 
 upon the shore. Tufts of the fine plumage are still adher- 
 ing, while many parts of the skeleton are entirely denuded 
 by the effects of time and water. I pluck a handful of the 
 snowy feathers from the disfigured form of this wonderful 
 bird, which, by some means unknown, has perished in the 
 course of its long migration. As I examine them I am re- 
 minded how all warm-blooded animals require some cover- 
 ing for the retention of animal heat. The ordinary mam- 
 mal has a coat of hair, suited to climate, season, and the 
 peculiar conditions of its habitat. The human race may 
 
296 THE AMERICAN SWAN. 
 
 choose its own clothing according to location and circum- 
 stances. Birds are clad with feathers, an integument 
 altogether peculiar to them as a class. Concerning these 
 feathers, constituting what we call plumage, Paley, in his 
 great work on Natural Theology, has well said: "The 
 covering of birds cannot escape the most vulgar observa- 
 tion. Its lightness, its smoothness, its warmth the dis- 
 position of the feathers, all inclined backward, the 
 down about their stem, the overlapping of their tips, 
 their different configuration in different parts, not to 
 mention the variety of their colors, constitute a vest- 
 ment for the body, so beautiful, and so appropriate to 
 the life which the animal is to lead, that, I think, we 
 should have had no conception of anything equally perfect, 
 if we had never seen it, or can now imagine anything more 
 so." Feathers are varied in adaptation to the different 
 parts of the bird. There are the ordinary feathers for cov- 
 ering called " clothing feathers," then others particularly 
 modified for special uses those over the opening of the 
 ear are very light and open, and are called "auriculars;" 
 those covering the junction of the wing with the body are 
 called "scapulars;" those lying in several rows at the base 
 of the quills on the outside of the wing, "coverts;" the 
 large quill-feathers of the wing are called " remiges" or 
 "rowing feathers;" of these again, the larger ones, arising 
 from the hand bones, are called "primaries;" those on the 
 lower or distal end of the ulna, or arm-bone, "secondaries;" 
 those from the upper or proximal part of the same bone, 
 " tertiaries," while the large steering-feathers of the tail are 
 called "rectrices." Indeed, on every part of the body 
 the feathers are peculiarly modified according to their 
 location, and yet every feather is constructed essentially 
 on the same plan. There is, first, the quill, entering 
 
THE AMERICAN SWAN. 297 
 
 the skin, and supporting the main part. It is of a 
 tough, horny material, and cylindrical in form, thus 
 combining strength and lightness; for in no form is a given 
 amount of matter so strong to support a weight or a strain 
 as in that of a tube or cylinder; and, of course, that is 
 also the form most favorable to levity. Next comes the 
 shaft supporting the vanes. This is somewhat four-sided, to 
 accommodate the vanes, and gradually diminishes toward 
 the extremity. It is usually bent, thus rendering the feather 
 much stronger and more convenient for its ordinary uses; 
 and it is also made more firm by a light pith. The flat 
 barbs, constituting the vane, join each other at their broad 
 sides, thus striking the air edgewise, and so opposing the 
 utmost resistance, just as a plank will sustain a greater 
 weight when set on edge than when lying flat. These barbs 
 are also broadest where they join the shaft, and taper to a 
 point at the outer edge of the vane. The broad sides of 
 these barbs are supplied with barbules, little hooks, so 
 arranged as to hook or latch into each other, and so form 
 the barbs of the vane into a continuous and firm sheet. At 
 the base of the vane is generally more or less down, accord- 
 ing to the nature of the bird, certain swimming birds, 
 such as Ducks and Geese, being noted for their down. 
 Some of the feathers of such species are down throughout, 
 and are called down-feathers; while all birds have more or 
 less feathers simply in the form of hairs. These last are 
 particularly troublesome in dressing the common fowl, and 
 are most conveniently cleaned by singeing. Again, the feath- 
 ers of certain birds have a peculiar style of structure. Those 
 of the Grebe are very open and loose, and of a glossy finish, 
 giving them somewhat the appearance of an elegant kind 
 of fur. "In the Owls the plumage is loose and soft; fila- 
 ments from the barbules extend upon the outer surface of 
 
298 THE AMERICAN SWAN. 
 
 the vane, and one edge of the primaries is serrated; so that, 
 while they are debarred from so swift a flight as the Hawk, 
 they are enabled, by the same mechanism, to wing their 
 way without noise, and steal unheard upon their prey." 
 (Owen.) In the long pinions of the Hawk the vanes are 
 joined together with a remarkable firmness. Who can ex- 
 plain the peculiarity of that structure, which causes the in- 
 imitable lustre on certain parts of several kinds of birds ? 
 Thus, as the above named author says, " every feather is a 
 mechanical wonder." No less remarkable is its history from 
 its first appearance in the matrix till it reaches maturity. 
 So perplexing is each stage of its development, that to read 
 an account of it by the most lucid anatomist requires as 
 close attention as the solution of an intricate problem in 
 mathematics. And can anything exceed the varied beauty 
 and brilliancy of the plumage of certain members of the 
 feathered tribes? What is there in all the bright hues of 
 nature which can equal the metallic tints on certain parts 
 of the Humming Birds of the New World, or of the Sun 
 Birds of both the Old World and the New? 
 
 The partly denuded skeleton of this Swan also reminds 
 me of the peculiar and varied osteology of the birds. A 
 bird's skeleton is a true indication of the leading peculiari- 
 ties of its structure and functions in this class of vertebrates. 
 As the bird's position, whether on the ground, on the water, 
 or in the air, is nearly horizontal, the trunk of the body is 
 made firm by a consolidation of a great portion of the back- 
 bone and ribs into a continued bony plane, and by the 
 anchylosis, or joining together, of nearly all the dorsal ver- 
 tebrae; and then it is well supported by the thigh bones 
 being in a horizontal position, and thus balancing it; and by 
 the long toes radiating in various directions. As the bird's 
 neck must serve the purpose of an arm, and the bill that of 
 
THE AMERICAN SWAN. 299 
 
 a hand, the former is very long, and flexible in various direc- 
 tions, reaching its greatest length in the Cygnus, or Swan 
 genus, and the latter is variously and most skillfully mod- 
 eled according to the habit of the bird, but always having 
 cutting edges of a horny substance. Flight, as the principal 
 characteristic of the class, is well anticipated by the great 
 extent and peculiar form of the breast-bone or sternum, to 
 which so many of the muscles of flight are attached, which 
 has its surface augmented by a broad keel, and of which the 
 ossification is more or less complete, according to the pow- 
 ers of flight possessed by the bird. Notwithstanding the 
 great pressure of the wings of the flying bird upon the 
 shoulders, these last are kept a proper distance apart by a 
 system of bones formed into a sort of double arch, well 
 braced forward and backward. The ribs again are remark- 
 ably strengthened by a line of flat, bony processes, extend- 
 ing from one to the other, like purlines joined into the raft- 
 ers of a building. All the bones are especially laminated 
 and firm, and at the same time contain, for the most part, 
 air cavities, to secure their greater levity. 
 
 Nor is the muscular system any less remarkable in its 
 adaptation to the peculiar functions of the bird; some of the 
 muscles, extending from the trunk of the body to the tips 
 of the toes, being so arranged that the bird clings to its 
 perch without any voluntary effort during its unconscious 
 hours of sleep, and may thus support itself even on one 
 foot. " In birds of flight the mechanical disposition of the 
 muscular system is admirably adapted to the aerial locomo- 
 tion of this class; the principal masses being collected below 
 the center of gravity, beneath the sternum, beneath the pelvis, 
 and upon the thighs, they act like the ballast of a vessel, and 
 assist in maintaining the steadiness of the body during 
 flight; while at the same time the extremities require only 
 
300 THE AMERICAN SWAN. 
 
 long, thin tendons for the communication of the mus- 
 cular influence to them, and are thereby rendered light and 
 slender." (Owen.) Is there anything in all this arrange- 
 ment of bone and muscle which indicates intelligent design ? 
 Is there any thought back of it all ? Or is it simply the 
 result of blind forces residing in matter ? 
 
 Over the wide world the Swan is the most graceful and 
 majestic bird of the waters. Strongly resembling the Goose, 
 it is differentiated by its greater elegance, which comes in 
 part from its long, slender and graceful neck, and in part 
 from its large and elaborate wings, as well as from its more 
 dignified proportions and bearing in general. Its bill is 
 noticeably larger than that of the Goose, in proportion to its 
 head, and the base of it extends to the eye. The fabled 
 song of the Swan as death approaches, though decidedly 
 beautiful, has no foundation in fact. While it has some 
 very boisterous notes, and a peculiar folding of the wind- 
 pipe and connection of it with the breast-bone and merry 
 thought, for the purpose of securing these stentorious 
 effects, its ordinary reticence, so strongly contrasting with 
 the "noisy gabbling of Geese and Duck," adds greatly to 
 its wonted dignity. Indeed, the structure of its vocal organs 
 is in no wise favorable to any musical capacity. 
 
 To see this pure, snow-white creature in all the ease, 
 elegance and dignity of his wild and retired haunts is the 
 privilege of but few; but he may be seen domesticated, and 
 thus seeming perfectly at home on the glassy ponds of our 
 public or even private parks. His great wings, so gracefully 
 ruffled and partly elevated, make him look almost ethereal 
 as he floats along with the slow and easy strokes of his 
 large, black feet, and they also serve as a sort of sail to catch 
 the passing breeze. Frequently one foot is held up out of 
 the water and spread apart, as if it, too, were used to catch 
 
THE AMERICAN SWAN. 30 I 
 
 the wind. What can equal the gracefulness of that long 
 slender, curving neck, as the head moves slowly in every 
 conceivable direction! Every movement of a Swan is par- 
 ticularly slow and stately. It is a living miniature of a ship. 
 But that peculiar motion with which, having dipped his 
 head in the water, he throws a shower of large drops, like 
 so many pearls, over his ruffled and snow-white plumage, 
 affords the supreme moment when his beauty culminates. 
 Such scenes give one a conception of the sweet content God 
 has designed for all His creatures in the mere conscious- 
 ness of existence. Those poets sing best of human life 
 who, passing by its feverish excitements and undue ambi- 
 tions, find a chief good in the quiet, virtuous and sweet 
 sense of simple being. That was a true philosopher who 
 prized the comfort of sunshine above the highest gifts of 
 kings. 
 
 We have two species of Swan on this continent the 
 Whistling or American Swan, and the Trumpeter. The 
 former (Cygnus americanus), some 53 inches long and about 84 
 in extent of wings, is occasionally seen in flocks passing 
 over our Great Lakes, or along the Niagara River, in their 
 times of migration. On St. Clair Flats they are sometimes 
 seen in great numbers. They fly high and in lines and an- 
 gles, after the manner of Wild Geese, except that they are 
 generally silent, and have a shorter and more graceful stroke 
 of the wings. Very inspiring to the love of the beautiful 
 are their large snow-white forms, with outstretched neck and 
 black bill, as they glide along the clear ether of a bright 
 morning in early spring or late autumn, their lines, curves, 
 and angles being formed with mathematical precision. 
 Many of them spend the winter on the Chesapeake and Del- 
 aware rivers, where they are captured in large numbers for the 
 market. It is also said to be abundant along the Pacific 
 
302 THE LOON. 
 
 Coast in winter. In New England it is rare, and it is not 
 abundant in the region of the Mississippi. The arctic regions 
 are its breeding ground. It breeds commonly in the marshes 
 along the Yukon River, especially in the great marshes at 
 its mouth. The eggs, from 2-5, "nearly ellipsoidal," some 
 4.00 X 2.00, with a rather rough shell, are white or dirty- 
 white, and are laid in May, " usually in a tussock quite sur- 
 rounded with water." 
 
 The Trumpeter Swan (Cygnus buccinator} differs from the 
 former in its greater size, being some 68 inches in length, 
 by its longer and wholly black bill, and more basilar nostrils, 
 by its 24 tail feathers (C. americanus has a yellow spot on the 
 bill and only 20 tail feathers), and by its harsher voice. 
 Reaching the gulf coast in winter, the Trumpeter seems to 
 range along the great Mississippi Valley, breeding from 
 Iowa and Dakota to the arctics, its breeding habits being 
 similar to those of its American congener. It is but a 
 straggler on the Atlantic Coast, and is not numerous south- 
 ward on the Pacific. 
 
 The young of Swans are at first gray, and passing through 
 various shades of reddish do not become pure white until 
 about 5 or 6 years old; and it takes about as many years for 
 them to reach their full size, the young scarcely exceeding 
 one-third of that of the mature bird at the end of the first 
 year. 
 
 Australia has a Black Swan, and South America one with 
 a black head and neck. 
 
 THE LOON. 
 
 About the middle of the day, when the mist on the lake 
 has somewhat cleared away, I discern some half-dozen 
 dark spots, several miles out; and turning the glass upon 
 them, I discover them to be Loons, or Great Northern 
 
THE LOON. 303 
 
 Divers (Colymbus torquatus). How finely they swim, stretch- 
 ing their large, black feet out behind them, even above the 
 water, sometimes, the wavelets stirring at their sides and in 
 their wake, being a miniature of those formed by a sailing 
 craft. Now they are moving in line, one after the other; 
 and again the line is broken by the sudden diving of one 
 or more; or for a time they all disappear in the same man- 
 ner. Then rising again, one after another, they shake their 
 heads and look about them in every direction, as if keep- 
 ing up the utmost vigilance; or one flaps his wings, and 
 thus rising out of the water, and patting it with his feet as 
 if running on its surface for some distance, drops into it 
 again, cutting the glassy surface into a foam with his snowy 
 breast. If one would study birds without disturbing them, 
 and know how they behave when they are perfectly at home, 
 one must view them thus in the distance, with the aid of a 
 good glass. The first impulse on a sight like this is to board 
 one's boat and row toward the flock for a shot; but that 
 would be about useless in the case of the Loon, for he dives 
 at the flash of the gun ere shot or bullet can reach him. 
 To shoot a Loon is possible, but it is one of the rarest feats 
 in marksmanship. The name Great Northern Diver is 
 most appropriate to him. 
 
 The summer haunts of this bird are in the north, 
 where, on lakes and streams, his large, flat body, his 
 long, slender-pointed black bill, his large head and long, 
 thick neck of jet-black, with hues of violet and green 
 and patches streaked with white, his jet-black upper 
 parts elegantly spotted with white, and his snow-white 
 breast are among the most familiar objects. Of his great 
 expertness in diving and swimming, for which his peculiar 
 structure especially the posterior position of his great 
 webbed feet and his sharply compressed legs so well 
 
304 THE LOON. 
 
 adapts him, he seems well aware; for he is in no hurry to 
 fly as one approaches him on the water. Excepting the 
 Grebe, no bird of our waters will allow one to come so near 
 to him. Plunging out of sight in an instant, if one presses 
 him too closely, and literally flying under the water, he will 
 presently come up and shake the water out of his eyes 
 many rods distant, swimming so deeply that his back is 
 nearly under water; and, before one can get within gun- 
 shot, he plunges out of sight again. If he undertakes to 
 rise out of the water, it seems to be with some difficulty. 
 Striking the air vigorously with his powerful wings, and 
 patting the water with his feet, he appears half-running 
 and half-flying, for several rods, before mounting fully into 
 the air, and if the wind be blowing he rises against it, thus 
 " eking out the resisting power of his small wings;" but 
 once elevated, he moves with immense momentum and 
 velocity, with outstretched neck, and feet extended back- 
 ward, after the manner of a huge Duck. To make up for 
 the small area of his wing-surface, he beats the air with a 
 rapidity that cannot be counted; and like other swimming 
 birds with very small wings for their size, and like all diving 
 birds whose wings are always reduced to a minimum, he 
 can make no sudden turns, nor perform any aerial evolu- 
 tions, nor alight suddenly and gracefully, but pitches into 
 the water with a splash and foam. Nor does he generally 
 need any of these facilities on wing. He may choose broad 
 rivers, immense lakes, or even the ocean for his highway, 
 and so have no obstructions in his course. Moreover, like 
 other mortals, he cannot expect to have every advantage. 
 If in structure and function he is the very ideal of dex- 
 terity in the water, he cannot expect to vie with the Swift in 
 the regions of the air. 
 
 The name Loon, or Loom, is said to be of Lapland ori- 
 
THE LOON. 305 
 
 gin, and to have come from a word signifying lame, because 
 the bird is unable to walk regularly. One caught in a seine, 
 and brought to me in excellent condition, without any 
 injury whatever, was wholly unable to rise from the ground, 
 and could barely shuffle along a few feet, aiding itself with 
 the shoulders of its wings. Its position in standing is 
 nearly upright, after the manner of the Grebes; otherwise 
 it cannot maintain the center of gravity on account of the 
 posterior location of its legs. If perchance the Loon 
 alights on land, away from the water, it cannot rise again. 
 Every now and then during their migrations, one is found in 
 this situation, and may then be picked up and carried off 
 without any difficulty whatever. 
 
 As one might expect under these circumstances, the Loon's 
 nest, which is a rude structure of rushes, is hard by the 
 water, on an island, or on the shore of the main land, gen- 
 erally on the edge of a little island in a lake. The eggs, 2 or 
 3, some 3.25 x 2.15, long and pointed, are brown or greenish- 
 brown, sparsely spotted all over with dark brown. 
 
 The Loon breeds on St. Clair Flats in considerable num- 
 bers, the nest being built up from the bottom, of rushes and 
 sedges, extending some eight or ten inches above the sur- 
 face, and containing a dry depression to receive the eggs. 
 Very possibly these nests are all deserted muskrat-houses. 
 I could not fully determine. 
 
 The notes of this bird, being most frequent before a storm, 
 are remarkable. Beginning on the fifth note of the scale, 
 the voice slides through the eighth to the third of the scale 
 above, in loud, clear, sonorous tones, which, on a dismal 
 evening before a thunder storm, the lightning already playing 
 along the inky sky, are anything but musical. He has also 
 another rather soft and pleasing utterance, sounding like 
 who-who-who-who, the syllables being so rapidly pronounced 
 20 
 
306 THE LOON. 
 
 as to sound almost like a shake of the voice a sort of weird 
 laughter. 
 
 Though generally dispersed over the United States in 
 winter, the Great Northern Diver breeds, for the most part, 
 beyond our limits, except in mountainous regions, rearing 
 their precocious young, even up to 70. 
 
 The length of this species is 2^-3 feet. Its food is mostly 
 small fishes. 
 
 The Red-throated Diver (Colymbus septentrionalis), with 
 habits and habitat similar to the former, is much smaller, 
 26 inches long and 43 in extent of wing; and it differs no- 
 ticeably in color. It is "blackish; below, white, dark 
 along the sides and on the vent and crissum; most of the 
 head and fore-neck, bluish-gray, the throat with a large 
 chestnut patch, hind neck sharply streaked with white on a 
 blackish ground; bill black. The young have not these 
 marks on the head and neck, but a profusion of small, sharp, 
 circular or oval white spots on the back." 
 
 This species is said to be abundant on the Bay of Fundy. 
 Another species called the Black-throated Diver is found to 
 the northwest of our continent. 
 
 These Loons are also the Loons of the Old World, the 
 birds having a circumpolar distribution. They are closely 
 allied to the Grebes, differing from them, as to structure, 
 principally in their completely webbed feet. 
 
 The peculiarities of the skeleton of a Loon, including the 
 greatly prolonged breast-bone, the long, narrow pelvic bone 
 with its elevated ridge, to receive the great muscles of the 
 leg used in swimming, and the greatly prolonged process at 
 the knee-joint, to strengthen the leg as the bird kicks up to- 
 ward the surface of the water in the act of diving, deserve 
 the special attention of the ornithologist and anatomist. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE TENTH AND ELEVENTH OF MAY. 
 
 I AM in the forest on a beautiful morning, the 10th of 
 May; and never in the round year are the charms of 
 our woodland scenery greater than at this very hour. The 
 leaves are already well unfolded, for the spring is early; and 
 the many wild flowers, peculiar to the time of year in this 
 locality, are in full bloom. Liverworts, spring-beauties and 
 marsh-marigolds are past their prime, indeed; but the 
 cresses, the toothworts, the fumitories, the addertongues, 
 the violets, and above all the trillium, are now in the very 
 height of their glory; while the mitreworts and the many 
 varieties of Solomon's-seal are just beginning to display 
 their delicate beauties. The whole woods is one immense 
 flower-garden. Oh, the fragrance of this delightful morn- 
 ing air! Involuntarily one takes long, deep breaths, as if 
 the very act of respiration were a luxury. 
 
 THE WOOD THRUSH. 
 
 But most delightful of all, as the sun leaps above the 
 horizon, is the mingled chorus of the birds. The Wood 
 Thrush (Turdus mustelinus) arrived some time during the 
 night, and is giving us his first song. To me it is an event 
 of the season. Nothing in all our bird melody equals it! 
 Such is its sweetness and copious variety that I shall not 
 attempt to render it in syllables. It must suffice to say that 
 
308 THE WOOD THRUSH. 
 
 the tones are flute-like, if indeed they can be compared to 
 any instrument; a variety of brief tinkles, trills, triplets and 
 warbles, on main chords, intermediates and chromatics, fol- 
 lowing each other in close but rather slow succession, in 
 every possible key, cadence and inflection, with a peculiar 
 shake on a low key every now and then thrown in; the whole 
 suggesting the idea of a solemn but happy and tender train of 
 meditation; the bird sings as if in a delightful reverie. 
 From the time of his arrival till late in June, or even in 
 July, his peculiar melody may be heard at almost any time 
 of day, but especially early in the morning and late in the 
 evening. Never shall I forget how, once at the dawn of 
 day, as I lay in my hammock high up under the thick shade 
 of two great forest trees, the notes of the Wood Thrush 
 were the first to break the stillness of the receding night. 
 Faintly, but oh! how sweetly, they broke upon the air in the 
 tree-top just above me. Louder and louder were the liquid 
 strains, until the silent isles of the thick forest echoed to 
 their delightful cadences, and all the songsters in the vicinity 
 woke up and gave forth their united response. Nothing 
 is more characteristic of our beautiful forests, at the close of 
 day, than the melody of this great woodland artist this 
 Beethoven among birds. 
 
 Not peculiar to the streams and wet places merely, as 
 implied by both Wilson and Audubon, but exceedingly 
 common as a summer resident throughout the woods, the 
 Wood Thrush builds his nest in this locality late in May or 
 early in June, in the crotch of a sappling, or on the horizon- 
 tal limb of a large tree, anywhere from 7 to 15 feet from the 
 ground. The structure, strongly resembling that of the 
 Robin, consists outwardly of dried leaves, coarse weed- 
 stalks, grasses, rootlets, etc., plastered together with mud, 
 and lined with rootlets for the most part, the lining often 
 
WILSON'S THRUSH. 309 
 
 being quite scanty. The eggs, 3 or 4, some 1.00 X -V5, in 
 form and color are like those of the Robin. 
 
 When the nest of this species is disturbed or even 
 approached, it has an animated twitter, almost as character- 
 istic as its song, also a soft chuck. I do not find this bird 
 particularly shy, as compared with other birds of the woods. 
 
 Like other Thrushes, it is often on the ground, not infre- 
 quently utters its song from a log or stump, and seldom 
 alights above the lower story of the woods. Berries and 
 insects constitute its fare. Its flight is regular, and not very 
 rapid. 
 
 About 8 inches long, the upper parts are bright brown, 
 reddish on the head, dusky on the rump and tail, eye-lids 
 white, ear-patches dark brown and white striped, under- 
 parts white, breast creamy, the dark-brown arrow-shaped 
 spots being quite large and running in chains. The males 
 and females are alike, after the manner of the Thrushes. 
 
 Migrating to New England early in May, very rare in 
 southwestern Maine, it extends further north into Canada 
 West. I found it common about Manitoulin Island, and 
 heard its song in the Lacloche Mountains. Early in autumn 
 it leaves us for its winter home in Central America. Audu- 
 bon reported a few on the gulf coast in winter, but Mr. 
 Maynard did not find it in Florida. 
 
 WILSON'S THRUSH. 
 
 From a thicket of undergrowth near by there comes a 
 loud querulous note, which may be spelled as chree-u. I rec- 
 ognize it at once as the alarm note of Wilson's Thrush 
 (Turdus fuscescen$) y a very common summer resident of this 
 locality, arriving early in May and leaving early in September. 
 There, he has alighted on a large stump within two rods of 
 me, and in full view. Some 7.00 long, or more, he is rather 
 
310 WILSON'S THRUSH. 
 
 slender, reddish-brown above, pure white underneath, the 
 throat and upper breast dark cream, streaked with small, 
 obscure, arrow-shaped brown spots. His general lightness 
 of color, especially his obscure spots on the breast, always 
 differentiates him from all other Thrushes. About the last of 
 May or early in June, when nidification begins, he becomes 
 a most delightful songster. Then, if you would hear him 
 to the best advantage, go to some low ground or swamp 
 localities in which these birds are most numerous between 
 sunset and dark, when sky and clouds put on their most gor- 
 geous hues, and all nature is sinking into silence. The mere 
 notes of the song are very simple, and, to my ear, sound some- 
 thing like the syllables, whree-u, whree-u, whree-u, whree-u, 
 uttered in a somewhat slow and strictly formal manner, and 
 often so softly that you imagine the bird, which is close by, 
 to be quite a distance off; but the tones may have a marvelous 
 vibration, sweet, pathetic, and grand beyond comparison, as 
 " the sounding isles of the dim woods " return the softened 
 echoes. The tones, taken singly, I think are the sweetest I 
 ever heard, and can be compared to nothing else which ever 
 falls upon the ear. Each tone is one of many keys, all in 
 sweet attune, a chord of many different musical threads, 
 vibrating sweetly, and causing the atmosphere to respond 
 as if it were itself entranced. 
 
 As is the case with other birds, several in the same 
 vicinity, will answer each other, one delivering his strain in 
 a little higher tone than another, and again falling a little 
 below him, the effect of which is very fine to a musical ear. 
 
 Tranquility is the very essence and expression of this de- 
 lightful song. No sound in the whole domain of nature 
 could more perfectly compose the mind. Pitch your tent 
 where this bird is, and let him put you to sleep at night and 
 wake you up in the morning. 
 
WILSON'S THRUSH. 311 
 
 This species is often called the " Veery," probably from 
 some fancied resemblance of the word to the notes of his 
 song. That resemblance to my ear, however, is the slight- 
 est possible. The name is simply a degrading epithet. 
 
 In accordance with its terrestrial habits in general, Tur- 
 dus fuscescens builds its nest on or near the ground, often on 
 a little bunch of dried brush and leaves, or on the side of a 
 knoll, generally where a small opening in the tall trees lets 
 in the genial rays of the sun. It is rather a rude structure, 
 sometimes frail, sometimes bulky, the foundation being of 
 dried and skeleton leaves mixed with straw, weed-stalks, 
 sticks, or coarse shreds of bark from the wild grape-vine; 
 the lining being of skeleton leaves and very fine rootlets, 
 perhaps a few pine-needles or dried grasses. The structure 
 is quite unique, and from its location can scarcely be mis- 
 taken. The eggs, generally 4, some .80 x .60, are light 
 bluish-green, and decidedly pretty. 
 
 Though generally a shy and sly bird, it will sometimes 
 become quite confidential. Strolling through the woods 
 some time ago I happened on a nest of callow young. The 
 mother sat closely. Almost within arm's reach of the 
 nest, I watched her for several minutes, she looking at me 
 also with an indescribable expression in her large brown 
 eyes. As she left the nest, finally, I noticed that, being six 
 inches or so from the ground, and rather poorly supported, 
 it was very much tilted on one side, thus endangering the 
 safety of the young. I righted it up, shoved a handful of 
 dried leaves under it to make it firm, and passed on. A few 
 hours later I returned, happening to pass the very same 
 spot, when lo! the bird had become so tame, and looked at 
 me seemingly with such an expression of gratitude and 
 confidence, that the nearest proximity to the nest did not 
 appear to disturb her. 
 
312 THE GOLDEN-CROWNED ACCENTOR. 
 
 Wintering in Florida and the gulf states, Wilson's 
 Thrush breeds from Southern New England and the 
 Middle States to Hudson's Bay, and westward to the Rocky 
 Mountains. It is abundant in Western New York in sum- 
 mer. I did not find it common in Nova Scotia. 
 
 THE GOLDEN-CROWNED ACCENTOR. 
 
 Ke-chee, ke-chee, ke-chee, ke-chee, ke-chee, comes the familiar 
 ditty of the Golden-crowned Accentor (Seiurus aurocapillus) 
 for the first time in the year. The notes begin so softly 
 that you might imagine the bird to be some distance away, 
 but as Jthey continue louder and louder, the last one, which 
 is quite loud and shrill, discovers the ventriloquist to be 
 near by. Perched on a lower limb, near the trunk of the 
 tree, he sits motionless as a statue, except when he throws 
 his head up to utter his notes. Then he shakes himself 
 from bill to tail, and by the time he reaches the last note, 
 seems to be exercising every muscle. 
 
 Occasionally between his chants he steps back and forth 
 on the limb and jerks his tail after the manner of his 
 near relative, the Water Thrush. The general effect of his 
 performance is greatly enhanced by the echo so peculiar to 
 the forest when in full foliage; and throughout the sum- 
 mer it is one of the characteristic sounds of our charming 
 woodlands, always to be associated with their coolness and 
 fragrance. 
 
 Excepting the sharp metallic chip, which he gives as he 
 walks in his pretty lark-like manner on the ground in time 
 of nidification, the above describes what was formerly 
 supposed to be the full extent of his musical capacity; but 
 Mr. Burroughs discovered, some years since, that he has a 
 fine warble. He says: "Mounting by easy flights to the 
 top of the tallest tree, he launches into the air with a sort 
 
THE GOLDEN-CROWNED ACCENTOR. 313 
 
 of suspended, hovering flight, like certain of the Finches, 
 and bursts into a perfect ecstasy of song clear, ringing, 
 copious, rivaling the Goldfinches in vivacity, and the Lin- 
 nets in melody. This strain is one of the rarest bits of 
 bird melody to be heard, and is oftenest indulged in late in 
 the afternoon or after sundown." Since Mr. B.'s discovery 
 others have identified this extra song. I hear it to fine 
 advantage in the night when the bird begins with its ordi- 
 nary and well-known chant, and ends in a prolonged and 
 beautiful warble, the effect of which, on the stillness of 
 night in the forest, is peculiarly pleasing. 
 
 Some 6.00-6.50 long, greenish-olive above, with a yellow 
 crown margined with black, white underneath, the breast 
 and sides streaked with large arrow-shaped spots of black, 
 Golden-crown has the marking of the Thrushes, among 
 which he was formerly classed; but in structure he is a 
 Warbler; in size he is about half-way between these two 
 great families; in manner, especially when on the ground, 
 he resembles the Wagtails. He is a bird of the ground, 
 often busy among the rustling leaves scratching for food, 
 and he is a dainty walker, seldom leaving the ground, ex- 
 cept for some musical performance. 
 
 In accordance with this general habit, his nest, found in 
 almost any part of the woods or swamp, is on the ground 
 a peculiar structure, roofed over, and having an entrance on 
 the side, bearing such a striking resemblance in miniature 
 to the old-fashioned out-door oven, that the builder has 
 been christened the "Oven-bird." Frequently the nest is 
 truly "a thing of beauty." Composed of dried leaves and 
 grasses, sometimes intermixed with shreds of bark and fine 
 twigs, or ornamented with mosses, thickly arched with 
 skeleton-leaves, or feathery tops of the finer grasses it looks 
 almost ethereal. Not infrequently, however, the nest is 
 
314 YELLOW-BACKED BLUE WARBLER. 
 
 plainer, containing a moderate amount of material, and that 
 of the coarser sort, slightly arched with the plain culms of 
 dried grasses, or with pine needles. The eggs, 4 or 5, about 
 .78 X -60, and therefore unusually roundish, are white as 
 porcelain, finely specked and spotted with red, brown and 
 lilac, mostly around the larger end, often in a wreath, and 
 are real objects of beauty in the nest so smoothly lined with 
 skeleton-leaves and horse-hairs. They resemble those of 
 the Warblers, too, and not the strongly-marked, bluish- 
 green eggs of the Thrushes. 
 
 Wintering in the extreme Southern States, Mexico, Cen- 
 tral America, and the West India Islands, its breeding hab- 
 itat extends even to the arctic regions, whence it returns 
 in the early autumn. 
 
 YELLOW-BACKED BLUE WARBLER. 
 
 Next thing to shooting bumble-bees is the bringing down 
 our smaller Warblers from the tallest tree-tops. So I feel, 
 as from the highest branches of a great elm, I pick out 
 a Yellow-backed Blue Warbler (Parula americand), the 
 smallest of the family. Only 4.50 long, the upper parts are 
 a delicate blue, slightly tinged with ash, with a bronze- 
 yellow patch on the back; throat and breast yellow, with a 
 collar of black and bronze, often more or less mixed, across 
 the upper breast; under parts, wing-coverts, and spots in 
 outer tail-feathers, white. Though it is by no means brill- 
 iant, I admire it for its plain and modest beauty. There is 
 something retired and elevated, too, in its manner. Its 
 path is, for the most part, in the very tops of the beeches 
 and maples on uplands and hills. Seldom, indeed, is its 
 nest less than 20 feet from the ground. Often it is much 
 higher. Hopping or flitting from point to point, hanging 
 by the feet, or peering quaintly among the leaves, all its 
 
THE KINGBIRD. 315 
 
 movements are most sprightly and graceful. Its nest is 
 built wholly of what appears to be a light-green hanging 
 moss, but it is in reality a lichen (usnea), common to many 
 trees of the north. The form is sometimes globular, with 
 an entrance on the side, sometimes open at the top, and 
 appearing like a common bunch of the material, in its native 
 position on the tree. It is unlike the nest of any other bird, 
 and exceedingly difficult to find. The eggs, often not more 
 than 3, and laid early in June, are some .65 x .50, white, 
 specked and spotted with reddish-brown and lilac, particu- 
 larly around the large end. Parula's song is by no means 
 as interesting as its nest. Though chiming in well with the 
 many voices of spring, considered apart, it is scarcely more 
 than a prolonged and pleasing squeak. 
 
 Breeding in the Southern and Middle States, Parula 
 americana becomes more common in New England, and 
 extends to Nova Scotia, and west to the Missouri. Southern 
 Florida is its northernmost abode in winter. 
 
 THE KINGBIRD. 
 
 As I return home across the fields I observe a pair of 
 Kingbirds (Tyrannus carolinensis] perched on a fence and 
 uttering a series of notes, tsip-tsip-tsip-tseep-tseep, tsi-tsi-tsee, tsi- 
 tsi-tsee, tsi-tsi, tsee-tsee, the whole being so modulated as to sound 
 more like a song than anything I ever heard from this bird 
 before. Eight inches long, blackish-gray above, wings and 
 tail nearly black, under parts and edge of the tail white, a 
 flame-colored spot under the tips of the feathers on the 
 crown, the male a little darker than the female -this bird 
 is almost as well known as the Robin or Bluebird. Most 
 noticeable of all are his pugnacious habits. Occupying 
 some low perch in the garden or orchard, or alighted on the 
 fence by the meadow, pasture or roadside, his big head 
 
316 THE KINGBIRD. 
 
 looking bigger than it really is, because of its erected feath- 
 ers, his whole mood sullen and querulous, his sharp screeping 
 note coughed out and accompanied by a jerk of the tail, he 
 does not possess one single trait of amiability; but, like some 
 ill-natured braggart, seems always on the watch for a chance 
 to fight. Whether the passer-by be a Buzzard a Crow, or 
 the tiniest Sparrow, at once he intercepts his track and in- 
 sults him in the most wanton manner. Slow and tremulous 
 as his flight seems to be, he keeps tolerably close chase with 
 almost anything. Whether those saucy thrusts, as he lets 
 himself down on the back of that soaring Red-tailed Hawk, 
 are painful or not, they are certainly very annoying, as the 
 vexed evolutions of the dignified bird clearly show. Again 
 and again the little sauce-box dashes himself against him, 
 while the Buzzard tips and veers, threatening his insignifi- 
 cant tormentor with beak and claw, and making off with as 
 little show of disconcertion as possible. He scarcely rids 
 himself of the nuisance, however, even at a great height in 
 the air. All the smaller birds in the neighborhood bear 
 with his attacks as a matter of course, and get out of his way 
 -with all speed. Arriving the first week in May, the orchard 
 is his favorite resort. Here his note, sometimes uttered 
 singly, often twice in succession, is one of the most familiar 
 and constant sounds. Perched on some branch or part of 
 the fence, after the manner of the Flycatchers in general, 
 he waits for his insect prey, which he snaps up on the wing 
 with a sharp click of the bill as he cuts short circles in the 
 air, sometimes hovering beautifully to reconnoiter, or take 
 his pick from a flock of gnats. Occasionally he may snap 
 up a bee from the hive, but for this small trespass his exten- 
 sive destruction of noxious insects abundantly compensates. 
 The Kingbird's nest is on some horizontal limb of a tree 
 in the orchard or open field, not very far from the ground. 
 
THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. 317 
 
 It is composed early in June of dried weeds, small sticks 
 and roots, bits of moss, leaves, down, and especially wool, 
 lined with fine rootlets and some horse-hair. The eggs, 4 or 
 5, averaging some 1.00 X .75, are creamy- white, spotted and 
 blotched with brown and lilac in such a manner as to make 
 them always distinguishable. 
 
 Late in August these birds may be seen in families, and 
 by September they leave for the south, wintering in the 
 most Southern States, and southward even to Peru, whence 
 they return throughout North America, breeding in their 
 entire range as far as 57. 
 
 The Gray Kingbird ( Tyrannus dominicensis) of Florida and 
 the extreme Southern States is 9.00-9.50 long, with the tail 
 slightly forked; brownish-slate or ash above, darker on the 
 head, and auriculars dusky; white below, shading into ash 
 on the breast and sides; under coverts and edgings of the 
 dusky wings and tail, yellowish. Its habits are similar to 
 those of the former, but it is more noisy. It is merely acci- 
 dental in the north. 
 
 The elegant Swallow- tailed Flycatcher (Milvulus forficatus) 
 of the southwest barely reaches the lower Mississippi. 
 
 THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. 
 
 In the latter part of the afternoon of this same tenth of 
 May, as I ride by a large orchard belonging to one of my 
 parishioners, I am delighted with a whole chorus of White- 
 crowned Sparrows (Zonotrichia leucophrys), making melody 
 in the blooming branches. The song is quite peculiar, 
 whee-who-who-zee-zee-zee, the first three notes in a clear whis- 
 tle, and the last three in a sort of jew's-harp tone, the whole 
 being decidedly pleasing, and not at all like that of the 
 White-throat. Appearing already in the latter part of 
 April, they are very common along the fences, hedges and 
 
018 
 
 THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. 
 
 orchards in migration at this time of year; but they do not 
 always sing. Sometimes a few will linger on the same spot, 
 singing more or less for a number of days, but one does not 
 often meet such a full chorus of them. 
 
 THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. 
 
 This is one of the largest and certainly the most beautiful 
 of all our Sparrows. Seven inches long; crown clear white, 
 with jet-black on each side and white line over the eye; 
 upper parts a beautiful ash and brown; wing-bars white; 
 neck and under parts light ash, becoming white on the vent 
 and light-brown on the flanks; bill and feet dark cinnamon. 
 The male and female are alike. The White-crown has a 
 habit of standing pretty well erect, with the feathers of the 
 entire crown raised, thus looking exceedingly jaunty; while 
 all his colors, of chaste, rich tints, finely harmonized, set him 
 out to the best advantage. 
 
 Wintering in the Southern States, the White-crowned 
 Sparrows go far north to breed, Newfoundland and Labra- 
 
THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW. 319 
 
 dor being the principal resorts to the eastward, while in the 
 mountainous regions westward they breed as far south as 
 Colorado. Fred. Boshart, however, the young ornithologist 
 of Lowville, N. Y., found a nest July 7th, 1877, in Denmark, 
 Lewis County, N. Y. In a very rough place of logs and 
 windfalls, it was placed about five inches above ground, 
 thus differing from its ordinary location. It contained one 
 
 egg- 
 
 Audubon describes a nest found in Labrador, and in all 
 respects representative, as follows: " The nest was placed in 
 the moss, near the foot of a low fir, and was formed exter- 
 nally of beautiful dry green moss, matted in bunches like 
 the coarse hair of some quadruped, internally of very fine 
 dry grass, arranged with great neatness to the thickness of 
 nearly half an inch, with a full lining of delicate fibrous 
 roots of a rich transparent yellow. * * * The eggs, five in 
 number, average ^ of an inch in length, are proportion- 
 ately broad, of a light sea-green color, mottled toward the 
 larger end with brownish spots and blotches, a few spots of 
 a lighter tint being dispersed over the whole." He found 
 the nests numerous in that locality, as also did Dr. Coues. 
 The former gives June as their breeding time. He also 
 says: "The food of this species, while in Labrador, consists 
 of small coleopterous insects, grass-seeds, and a variety of 
 berries, as well as some minute shell-fish, for which they 
 frequently search the margins of ponds or the sea-shore." 
 By the first of October the White-crown begins to pass this 
 point on its way south, and is quite common for several 
 weeks. 
 
 THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW. 
 
 As I continue my ride, passing a thicket near a large 
 block of woods, I meet a company of some half-dozen 
 White-throated Sparrows (Zonotrichia albicollis) leisurely 
 
320 THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW. 
 
 gathering food among the brush and bushes. They may be 
 found here as a common migrant from the last week in 
 April till after the middle of May, following thickets, brier 
 patches, and swampy places; and again in September and 
 
 THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW 
 
 October, or even later. Somewhat shy, slow, and dignified 
 in their movements, uttering a soft and somewhat prolonged 
 tseep, they are not very noticeable except to the ornitholo- 
 gist In the autumn I have heard them utter a sharp pimp, 
 sounding a little like the spirited alarm of the Robin. Sel- 
 dom indeed do they favor us with their song as birds of 
 passage. I have heard it, however, from some solitary male 
 perched on a stub in a thicket on a beautiful May morning. 
 In their breeding haunts, which are from Northern New 
 England far to the northward, their very pleasing melody 
 is quite common. 
 
 In Great Manitoulin Island and vicinity, where I found 
 these birds abundant in the breeding season, it is one of the 
 earliest, the commonest, and certainly the most impressive 
 of bird-songs to be heard. Thoreau in the North Woods 
 
THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW. 321 
 
 of Maine, and Burroughs in the great forests north of 
 Quebec, found this Sparrow in great numbers; and it is 
 found equally common in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. 
 The notation of its song could be easily written on the 
 musical staff. Beginning generally on the fifth note of the 
 scale, after the first syllable, it ascends to the eighth or 
 last note, and ends in four syllables more. After the first 
 syllable of the song the bird will sometimes utter the 
 second on the second or third note of the scale above, and 
 then dropping back will render the remaining three sylla- 
 bles on the usual pitch for the ending. I have heard it 
 begin on the last note of the scale, and after sounding two 
 syllables, drop to the sixth interval for the remaining three 
 syllables, thus giving a beautiful minor effect. If several 
 are singing after the first-named or ordinary manner, they 
 may each perform on a different key, one responding to the 
 other from different dead trees or tall stubs in the neighbor- 
 hood. The charm of the song is principally in the pathos 
 of the tones, which resemble those of the song proper of the 
 Chickadee, being an inimitably tender and vibrating or 
 tremulous whistle. There are few bird-songs which are so 
 affecting to an aesthetic nature as is this simple pastoral. 
 The tenderest and most sympathetic ideas, with a tinge of 
 melancholy, find their expression in these strongly charac- 
 terized notes, which, as Thoreau says, "are as distinct to 
 the ear as the passage of a spark of fire shot into the dark- 
 est of the forest would be to the eye." All such representa- 
 tions of this song, as "pea-body, pe-a-body, pe-a-body" or, "all 
 day whittling, whittling, whitling" or, " ah! te-te-te-te-te-te-te-te- 
 te," are mere caricatures, furnishing at best but a rude 
 suggestion of its plaintive, tender melodiousness. 
 
 To introduce this bird more fully, his length is 6.00; 
 crown black, with line of white through the center; lines 
 21 
 
322 THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. 
 
 over the eyes; bright yellow from the base of the bill to the 
 eye, then white to the neck; upper parts, reddish-brown 
 and blackish-brown, intermixed with streaks of whitish; 
 wing-bars, white; cheeks, dark-ash; throat, white; under 
 parts, whitish-ash; female and immature male, with the 
 bright head-markings quite obscure. The male, in perfect 
 plumage, is decidedly beautiful; by some he is regarded as 
 the most beautiful of all the Sparrows. 
 
 The nest, on the ground, in bushy fields, is of dried 
 grass, weeds and mosses, lined with rootlets or fine grasses. 
 The eggs, 4 or 5, some .85X-62, are grayish- white, spotted 
 and splashed with brown and paler markings. The White- 
 throat winters throughout the Southern States. 
 
 THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. 
 
 The most prominent physical feature just south of Lake 
 Ontario is the Ridge, a graceful elevation of sandy soil sup- 
 posed to have been once either the shore of the lake, or an 
 immense sand-bar. The highway, which follows its great- 
 est elevation, and is broad enough to admit several teams 
 abreast, was once the grand thoroughfare from Buffalo to 
 Albany. Now the northern branch of the New York Cen- 
 tral Railroad and the Erie Canal just south of it have broken 
 up the great line of stage-coaches, and greatly decreased 
 the immense processions of farm wagons loaded with prod- 
 uce, and the crowds of light-hearted travelers on pleasure 
 and visiting excursions. Thus the great Broadway of the 
 region round about has been almost cleared of its enter- 
 prise. The distilleries and hotels are deserted, and the 
 towns either have ceased to grow or are in a state of decline. 
 But the beautiful highway, almost equally good at any time 
 of year, is still the same. Spring comes here days almost 
 weeks in advance, and the mildness of autumn lingers with 
 
THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. 323 
 
 retarded pace. Hence people prefer to live here, and in our 
 county (Orleans) the Ridge is almost a continuous village. 
 
 In the woods and thickets on the low ground just north 
 of the Ridge, where once the waters of the lake rolled, is our 
 best locality for the summer birds, especially the Warblers. 
 The llth of May, 1879, was one of the loveliest spring days we 
 have ever seen. The leaves were out, the sky was clear, the 
 sun warm, and the very air seemed palpitating with life. 
 
 My friend F and I were skirting the woods north of the 
 
 Ridge. O, what a day it was for Warblers! They were pass- 
 ing to the north in one continuous troop. Most abundant 
 of all on that day were the Blackburnians (Dendrceca black- 
 burnice), the most brilliant of the family. We can find 
 some of them every spring in this locality, but they are not 
 always numerous. 
 
 The male is black above, with a white streak on each 
 shoulder, also several similar streaks along the lower part 
 of the back and rump, the large wing-spots, and base and 
 greater part of the outer tail-feathers, white ; spot along 
 the crown, streak from the base of the bill above the eye to 
 the back of the head, thence bending forward in a broad 
 band along the sides of the neck, and the lower eye-lid 
 orange yellow, throat and upper part of breast fiery orange, 
 fading into white; underneath the small spot on the side 
 of the neck and the streaks along the sides, black. The 
 markings of the female are similar to those of the male, 
 except that all the colors are lighter, the orange on the 
 throat fading into a delicate yellow. 
 
 In its very graceful movements this little bird keeps en- 
 tirely to the trees, and not generally very high up, flitting 
 from point to point in search of its hidden insect food, and 
 emitting a loud, pleasing warble. It is mostly a bird of the 
 upland, and quite fond of evergreens a lovely sylvan orna- 
 
324 THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. 
 
 merit, strikingly in harmony with this gala-day of spring. 
 As is the case with most of our brilliant birds, the male re- 
 quires several years to acquire his richest tints, hence Wil- 
 son and Audubon described the male of the second year as 
 a separate species, called the Hemlock Warbler, and Bona- 
 parte even distinguished it as of a different genus. 
 
 Wintering in Mexico and Central America, this Warbler 
 migrates through Eastern North America generally, being 
 seen by Audubon in the Magdalen Islands, Newfoundland 
 and Labrador. Beginning to breed sparingly in the Middle 
 States and Southern New England, its principal breeding 
 range would seem to be to the northward. It is not uncom- 
 mon in the breeding season in Maine. President MacCul- 
 loch, of Halifax, N. S., favored Audubon with the nest of 
 this species, but regarded the bird as rare in that province. 
 This must be true, as my correspondent, Mr. Andrew 
 Downes of Halifax, an experienced ornithologist, does not 
 report it. 
 
 Audubon describes the above nest as follows: "It was 
 composed externally of different textures, and lined with 
 silky fibers and then delicate strips of fine bark, over which 
 lay a thick bed of feathers and horse-hair. The eggs were 
 small, very conical towards the smaller end, pure white, 
 with a few spots of light-red towards the larger end. It was 
 found in a small fork of a tree five or six feet from the 
 ground, near a brook." Mr. H. D. Minot says: " A nest of 
 this species, containing young, which I found in Northern 
 New Hampshire, was placed about twenty feet from the 
 ground in a pine. Another, which I was so fortunate as to 
 find in a thick hemlock-wood near Boston, was also about 
 twenty feet from the ground. It contained three young 
 and an unhatched egg, which measures .65 X .50, and resem- 
 bles the egg of the Chestnut-sided Warbler, being white, 
 
THE CCERULEAN WARBLER. 325 
 
 with lilac, and principally reddish-brown markings grouped 
 at the larger end." 
 
 THE CCERULEAN WARBLER. 
 
 I discharge both loads from my double-barrel, and bring 
 down a pair of Warblers, male and female, from the top of 
 a tall maple. They are fine specimens of the Ccerulean 
 Warbler (Dendrcecacceruled). Have they just dropped down 
 from the skies, and brought the pure azure with them? 
 Except the dusky wings and tail, dark wing-coverts and 
 centers of many of the feathers and white under parts, the 
 epithet, ccerulean, or sky-blue, is certainly applicable to the 
 male, particularly to his head, back and collar just above the 
 breast. Excepting her lighter markings, less dusky wings 
 and tail, missing collar and greenish tint over the head and 
 back, the female is the same as the male. This species has 
 the streaks along the sides, and the white marks in the 
 outer tail-feathers, in common with the rest of the Den- 
 drceca. 
 
 The Ccerulean Warbler, apparently belonging to the Mis- 
 sissippi Valley, and scarcely a casual visitor on the Atlantic 
 Coast, like certain other species of its locality, finds its 
 way around the Alleghany Mountains for a short distance, 
 and is very common throughout the summer in Western 
 New York. Indeed, it is not uncommon as a summer resi- 
 dent in the central part of the State. I have had every 
 opportunity of observing its habits; and, as no writer has 
 given it a full record, I bear it a special accountability. 
 
 It is a bird of the woods, everywhere associated with the 
 beautiful tall forests of the more northern counties of 
 Western New York, sometimes found in the open woods of 
 pasture-lands, and quite partial to hard-wood trees. In its 
 flitting motion in search of insect prey, and in the jerking 
 
326 THE BA Y-BREA S TED WA RBLER. 
 
 curves of its more prolonged flight, as also in structure, it 
 is a genuine Wood Warbler, and keeps for the most part to 
 what Thoreau calls "the upper story" of its sylvan domain. 
 Its song, which is frequent, and can be heard for some dis- 
 tance, may be imitated by the syllables, rheet y rheet, rheet, 
 rheet, ridi, idi-e-e-e-ee, beginning with several soft warbling 
 notes, and ending in a rather prolonged but quite musical 
 squeak. The latter and more rapid part of the strain, 
 which is given in the upward slide, approaches an insect 
 quality of tone, which is more or less common to all Blue 
 Warblers. 
 
 This song is so common here as to be a universal character- 
 istic of our tall forests. The bird is shy when startled from its 
 nest, and has the sharp, chipping alarm note of the family. 
 The nest is saddled on a horizontal limb of considerable 
 size, some distance from the tree, and some forty or fifty 
 feet from the ground. Small and very neatly and com- 
 pactly built, somewhat after the style of the Redstart, it 
 consists outwardly of fine dried grasses, bits of wasp's-nest, 
 gray lichen, and more especially of old and weathered 
 wood-fibers, making it look quite gray and waspy. The 
 lining is of fine dried grasses, or of fine shreds of the wild 
 grape-vine, thus giving the inside a rich brown appearance 
 in contrast with the gray exterior. The eggs, 4 or 5, some 
 .60X-47, are grayish or greenish-white, pretty well spotted 
 or specked, or even blotched, especially about the large 
 end, with brown and deep lilac. They do not possess that 
 delicate appearance common to the eggs of most of the 
 Warblers. 
 
 THE BAY-BREASTED WARBLER. 
 
 In a small ash tree, a little out from the woods and alone 
 in the field, I spy a Warbler somewhat larger than most of 
 the family, and rather slow in its movements. Shooting it, 
 
THE BAY-BREASTED WARBLER. 327 
 
 I recognize it as the Bay-breasted Warbler (Dendrceca cas- 
 taned). As I hold it in my hand, I cannot but admire the 
 plain richness of its costume. The back is greenish-gray 
 streaked with black; wings and tail dusky, the former barred, 
 the latter spotted on the inner web of the cuter-feathers 
 with white; forehead and sides of the head black; head, 
 throat, breast and sides a rich chestnut; under parts reddish- 
 white, with a patch of clear light buff on each side of the 
 neck, making a fine contrast with his dark colors. The fe- 
 male is similarly marked, but a good deal lighter. 
 
 Though not rare, as in New England and Nova Scotia, 
 this species can hardly be called common in the migrations 
 of this locality, except in certain seasons. The spring of 1880 
 brought it in large numbers during the second week in May. 
 Mr. Allen says "in the Connecticut Valley it is generally 
 more or less common, and sometimes very abundant." Dr. 
 Coues found it rather common around Washington, D. C., 
 in the migrations, and while none of the earlier ornitholo- 
 gists knew much about it, nor anything of its nidification, 
 Mr. Maynard has found it resident and breeding, early in 
 June, in considerable numbers at Umbagog Lake. The nest, 
 which is rather bulky, and usually placed in a hemlock tree 
 some fifteen or twenty feet from the ground, is of " fine, dead 
 larch-twigs, mixed, in one instance, with long tree-moss," 
 and is "smoothly lined with black fibrous rootlets, some 
 moss and rabbit's hair," giving it a striking resemblance to 
 the nest of the "Purple Finch." The eggs are said to be 
 " bluish-green, more or less thickly speckled with brown all 
 over, the markings becoming confluent, or nearly so, at or 
 around the larger end, where the brown is mixed with lilac 
 or umber markings." As to the migrations of this species, 
 the same author says : " Avoiding the Eastern and Middle 
 States, the majority pass along the borders of the Great 
 
328 THE BLACK-AND-YELLOW WARBLER. 
 
 Lakes, through Ohio, Southern Illinois, down the Missis- 
 sippi Valley, across into Texas, and so on into Mexico and 
 Central America, where they winter. Returning in spring, 
 they pursue a more southern route, keeping along the coast 
 as far as the New England States, where they ascend the 
 Connecticut Valley, generally avoiding Eastern Massachu- 
 setts." Its song, said to begin like that of the Black-poll 
 and end like that of the Redstart, bears to my ear no re- 
 semblance whatever to either, but is a very soft warble, 
 somewhat resembling the syllables tse-chee, tse-chee, tse-chee, 
 tse-chee, tse-chee, but far too liquid to admit of exact spelling. 
 
 THE BLACK-AND-YELLOW WARBLER. 
 
 The wild grape, that common and exquisitely graceful 
 ornament of our woods, has completely enshrouded a clump 
 of bushes yonder; and as the leaves are just putting forth, 
 of a reddish tinted texture, and hoary with down, they 
 seem particularly attractive to the passing crowd of War- 
 blers. There comes from its bowery depths a whist- 
 ling warble, very liquid and sweet, and so soft that it can be 
 heard only a few feet distant, whee-cho^ whee-cho, whee-cho, 
 whee-cho y whee-cho. After peering cautiously for several 
 minutes, I recognize the quick, flitting movement of the 
 Black-and-yellow Warbler (Dendra>ca maculosa). 
 
 In its northern breeding places its song is a loud, clear 
 whistle, which may be imitated by the syllables chee-to, chee- 
 to, chee-tee-ee, uttered rapidly and ending in the falling 
 inflection. It is interesting to note how faint and imper- 
 fect an attempt at the final and full song on their breeding- 
 grounds is the occasional soft, lisping warble of the 
 Warblers as they pass us in the migrations. Any one thus 
 studying these soft utterances has the merest prelude to the 
 final burst of joy when the bird reaches its summer home. 
 
THE BLACK-AND-YELLOW WARBLER. 329 
 
 I cannot always see maculosa as early as this, but may find 
 it quite common about the 18th or 20th of this genial month 
 of May. Emitting a soft note, e-a, e-a, probably a faint echo 
 of its alarm note in breeding times cree-e-e-e-e-ep, long 
 drawn and like that of the Vireos it keeps to the lower 
 story of the woods, and is not at all shy, thus giving me a 
 good opportunity to note its manners as it is gleaning dili- 
 gently. As it peers gracefully among the tender foliage 
 who can fail to admire its gentleness and beauty? Among 
 the smallest (4.25 long and 8.10 in extent) and the most deli- 
 cately formed of its genus, its color is really brilliant. 
 Crown ashy-blue, margined on the sides with white; fore- 
 head, cheeks, back, wings and tail, black or blackish; throat, 
 rump and under parts, bright lemon-yellow, the latter 
 heavily blotched and streaked with jet-black; lower eye- 
 lids, wing-coverts and large central patch on the inner web 
 of most of the tail-feathers, pure white; thus giving a striking 
 effect as the tail spreads in its various flitting motions 
 this little beauty would do justice to the tropics. The 
 female is less brilliant, and not so distinctly marked. But, 
 excepting its sojourn in winter, which extends entirely south 
 of the United States, this is especially a northern bird, 
 breeding from Northern New England to Hudson's Bay. 
 
 Mr. C. J. Maynard describes a nest, taken at Umbagog 
 the second week in June, 1870, as follows: "It was placed 
 on the forked branch of a low spruce, about three feet from 
 the ground, on a rising piece of land, leading from a wood- 
 path. The nest, which contained four eggs, was con- 
 structed of dry grass, spruce twigs, roots, etc., and was 
 lined with fine black roots, the whole being a coarse struct- 
 ure for so dainty looking a Warbler. The eggs were more 
 spherical than any Warbler's I have ever seen. The ground 
 color is a creamy-white, blotched sparingly over with large 
 
330 THE BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER. 
 
 spots of lilac and umber." Another, which was taken June 
 8th, 1871, was "composed outwardly of a few scattered dead 
 twigs of larch, interwoven with stalks of weeds and dry 
 grass. It is lined with black horse-hair; this dark lining 
 forms a strange contrast with the faded appearance of the 
 outer part. The whole structure is very light and airy in 
 appearance, strongly reminding one of the nest of the D. 
 pcnnsylvanica." This is in harmony with a note from Mr. 
 Andrew Downes, of Halifax, N. S., who says: "I once 
 found the nest of this bird on a hard-wood bough, breast 
 high. It was composed of very light material. I could 
 see through it." From a nest in H. A. Ward's cabinet, at 
 Rochester, N. Y., and which was taken in Maine in June, I 
 have the following note: "Placed in a fir bush two feet 
 from the ground, shallow, and so frail that one can see 
 through it, made of dried grasses and rootlets, and lined 
 with fine rootlets and a little horse-hair. The 4 eggs are 
 creamy- white, spotted and specked with red, brown and lilac, 
 forming a delicate wreath. Size, .62X.50." 
 
 Like other Warblers, tfiaculosa has a strictly insect diet, 
 and contributes greatly to the preservation of our forests. 
 
 THE BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER. 
 
 As I recline on a bed of dry leaves, and listen to this 
 chorus of traveling songsters, I notice one song, the tones 
 of which strongly resemble the hum or shrilling of an in- 
 sect. I recall the fact that insects almost invariably render 
 their music by some external organ, the wings, or the wings 
 and legs together, for instance, and so are instrumental 
 musicians; therefore, this striking resemblance of a vocal 
 performer is all the more remarkable. Again and again I 
 hear it, zwee-zwee-zwee, per-wee-wee-wee* in languid notes, 
 
 * I once heard this peculiar song preluded by a half-dozen beautiful, staccato, whistling 
 notes. 
 
THE BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER. 331 
 
 slowly drawn out and not very loud. I become excited, and 
 am conscious of each heart-throb as I listen. Now I have 
 a full view of the musician the Black-throated Blue War- 
 bler (Dendrceca ccerulescens}. Rather more than an average 
 in size as a Dendrceca (5.10 long and 7.75 in extent), he is of 
 a rich slaty-blue above, often having graceful little black 
 spots on the back; the inner webs of the tail and wings, 
 black or dusky; throat, cheeks, and sides of the breast, jet- 
 black; under parts, spots on the inner webs of the outer 
 tail feathers, and nearly triangular spot at the base of the 
 primaries, pure white. He is a genuine beauty; but his 
 mate, of a bluish-olive above and yellowish-white beneath, 
 the white wing-spot rather obscure, is one of the very plain- 
 est of the Warblers. Generally found in the upland forests, 
 this is one of the commonest of the genus in Western New 
 York during the migrations. Keeping rather to the lower 
 parts of the trees, though often found in the tree-tops, ex- 
 ceedingly spry in all its movements, it is not only a thorough 
 gleaner among spray and foliage, but also a fair flycatcher. 
 Seldom seen here after the month* of May, I conclude that 
 I am not within the range of its breeding habitat. The 
 most interesting and thorough account of its nidification 
 is given in the Nuttall Ornithological Bulletin for April, 
 1876, by Rev. C. M. Jones, who reports a nest with four eggs, 
 from the northeast corner of Connecticut, taken June 8th, 
 1874, and another, with the same number of eggs nearly 
 hatched, on the 13th of the same month. Both nests were 
 placed but a few inches from the ground, in small bushes of 
 laurel in the woods, near a swamp. In regard to the first: 
 "About five inches from the ground the bush separated into 
 three branches, and in this triple fork the nest was situ- 
 ated." The second was " in two laurels. One of these lay 
 horizontally in the fork of the other, and on the horizontal 
 
332 THE CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER. 
 
 one the nest was set, held in place by being attached on one 
 side to the upright branches of the other." The nests, 
 quite similarly built, are " firm and compact, composed 
 outwardly of what appears to be the dry bark of the grape 
 vine, with a few twigs and roots. This is covered in many 
 places with a reddish-woolly substance, apparently the 
 outer covering of some species of cocoon. The inside is 
 composed of small black roots and hair." The eggs were 
 " ashy- white," or "with a slight tinge of green, spotted and 
 botched with brown and lilac around the larger end, and 
 somewhat speckled with the same over the entire surface, 
 averaging in size from .61 by .47 to .66 by .50." As in the 
 case of many of the rest of the Warblers, the female was 
 quite tame, and allowed the discoverer to approach quite 
 near the nest before she left it. 
 
 Spending the winter south of the United States, or in 
 Florida, it has "been found as far north, in summer, as 
 Labrador. Its chief habitat, however, must be a little to 
 the westward, as the New England writers do not speak of 
 it as plentiful; Mr. Downes reports it rare about Halifax, 
 N. S., while Audubon saw none in Newfoundland, and " in 
 Labrador only a dead one, dry and shrivelled, deposited 
 like a mummy in the fissure of a rock." 
 
 THE CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER. 
 
 In a small maple in the edge of an open part of the woods 
 I spy one of my special favorites, the Chestnut-sided War- 
 bler (Dendrceca pennsylvanicd). Arriving during the second 
 week in May, keeping to the borders of open woods, 
 especially where thickets are adjoined, and not generally 
 aspiring very high, he is one of our common residents. 
 Some 5.50 inches long, with yellow crown, sometimes deli- 
 cately penciled with black; a ring of black slightly mixed 
 
THE CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER. 333 
 
 with white, extending from over the eyes around the back 
 of the head; feathers of the back black, deeply edged with 
 greenish-yellow, or with white across the shoulders ; 
 wings and tail blackish, slightly edged with green- 
 ish-yellow or white, the latter having the white mark- 
 ings on the inner web of the outer feathers; wing-coverts 
 edged with yellowish- white; cheeks and whole under parts, 
 satiny- white; throat bordered on the sides with black, 
 the neck and breast bordered with bright chestnut. 
 The female is quite similar, with the markings less distinct 
 and the coloring less pure. Of a texture reminding one of 
 fine muslin above, and of silk or satin beneath, there is 
 something particularly delicate and chaste about the appear- 
 ance of this bird; and his song, a warble in a somewhat 
 whistling tone, the notes resembling the syllables, wee-chee, 
 wee-chee, wee-chee y wee-chee, accent on the first syllable of each 
 repetition, increasing to the last, is one of the most spirited 
 of all the songs of the Warblers, and decidedly musical. 
 Emitted as the bird is actively peering, flitting and glean- 
 ing among the branches, it gives the impression of peculiar 
 sprightliness and joy. Even when in a momentary repose, 
 the raising of the feathers about the head, the drooping 
 wings and slightly elevated tail, show a happy self-con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 The nest, built in the latter part of May or early in June, 
 in a shrub or small tree, here commonly in the tops of the 
 raspberry or blackberry bushes, never far from the ground, 
 is rather frail, loose and very slightly fastened, composed 
 outwardly of fibrous material intermixed with a webby text- 
 ure, sometimes with the covering of beech-buds, and is lined 
 with very fine dried grass, or shreds of bark of the wild grape- 
 vine, and more or less horse-hair. The eggs, commonly four, 
 are specked or blotched with light-red and umber, mostly 
 
334 CAPE MAY WARBLER. 
 
 around the great end, on a ground of pure white, or slightly 
 tinged with greenish or grayish, and in shape are rather 
 longish and pointed. 
 
 When disturbed or alarmed, the Chestnut-side has the 
 tsip or chip common to the Warblers. It is said to breed 
 abundantly in Massachusetts and throughout New England. 
 Dr. Coues thinks it extends "little, if any, beyond," but 
 Mr. Downes reports it as common around Halifax, N. S. 
 
 Mr. Wagner, who sends me a beautiful nest with eggs, 
 says it breeds commonly in New Canada, Lunenburg Co.; 
 and I found it in the Province, as I did also quite commonly 
 in Great Manitoulin Island. 
 
 CAPE MAY WARBLER. 
 
 The day continues delightful,and as the Warblers are almost 
 constantly in sight, we keep up a brisk firing. Among others, 
 I bring down a beautiful male of the Cape May Warbler 
 (.Dendrceca tigrind), somewhat larger than most Warblers, some 
 4.25 long and 8.10 in extent, the crown is black; back wings 
 and tail of the same edged with greenish-yellow, the latter 
 with the white on the inner web of outer feathers; lesser wing- 
 coverts white, the greater, partly edged with grayish-white; 
 cheeks light-brown, sometimes chestnut; sides of the neck, 
 rump and under parts, bright lemon-yellow, the latter 
 streaked with black. One may always know this beautiful 
 bird by its brown cheeks. The female is duller in marking 
 and color. Though not abundant, this species is not infre- 
 quently found here during the migration. I saw quite 
 a flock of them in a larch in a front-yard in the village as 
 I was returning from church one bright Sunday, early in 
 May. O, the inconvenience of seeing birds on Sunday ! but 
 who can keep his eyes shut when they are once opened ! 
 
 Nowhere found to be numerous as yet, this bird is decid- 
 
CAPE MAY WARBLER. 335 
 
 edly a stranger to ornithologists. I can learn nothing of 
 its song or its note, and almost nothing that is explicit about 
 its nest. Mr. Minot says " a nest found in the neighborhood 
 of Boston closely resembled that of the Yellow-bird in 
 every respect." He also reports the five eggs, laid the first 
 week in June, as similar to those of the last mentioned 
 species. Dr. Brewer's account of the eggs is simply that 
 they are like those of other Warblers. Eastern North 
 America generally is given as its habitat, and it is said to 
 breed in the West Indies. Mr. Smith, in his annotated list 
 of the birds of Maine, reports this species as " not very com- 
 mon. Mr. Boardman reports that it breeds in Eastern Maine, 
 and it breeds in the western part of the State also, but in 
 very limited numbers." Mr. Maynard, however, found 
 these birds abundant in summer in the evergreen forests of 
 Northern Maine. They kept to the tall tree-tops, and the 
 songs of the males were particularly " lively and varied." 
 He found the same species common at Key West in No- 
 vember, and some remained there all winter. 
 
 This species has a peculiar tongue, deeply cloven at the 
 tip, and ciliate along the sides near the tip. The Tennessee, 
 or Wandering Warbler, has the tongue quite similar, but not 
 so deeply cleft. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PEWEES AND THE HOODED WARBLER. 
 
 IT is a sunny evening on the 15th of May, one of those bright 
 and tender evenings of the opening spring, when the 
 birth of soft foliage and early flowers reminds one of in- 
 fancy ; when neither the chill of the April atmosphere nor 
 the damp dews of the dog-days chase the rays of the set- 
 ting sun; but balmy airs, free, as yet, from annoying insects, 
 and redolent of forest mould and fragrant flowers, bring 
 healing with every breath. 
 
 Vegetation always affords a great variety of the tints and 
 shades of green, so that a strongly contrasted fabric might 
 be woven without introducing any other color; but these 
 shades are never so varied as in early spring; besides, many 
 other colors are then intermixed. The beeches have a tinge 
 of yellow, the willows and poplars are hoary, the maples and 
 beech saplings are reddish, the ashes have a dash of deep 
 purple or brown, the green of the wheat fields differs from 
 that of the meadows in short, next to the brilliant effects 
 of autumn are the softer tints of early spring. 
 
 THE WOOD PEWEE. 
 
 As I enter one of our luxuriant tracts of woodland, I hear 
 the plaintive note of the Wood Pewee (Contopus virens), 
 a beautiful representative of the Flycatcher. Strongly re- 
 sembling the rough, guttural and somewhat hurried sylla- 
 
THE WOOD PEWEE. 337 
 
 bles of the Common Pewee (Sayornis fuscus), this note is still 
 very noticeably different in its slow, tender and somewhat 
 melancholy whistle, pe-wee, the tone of which is in fine har- 
 
 THE WOOD PEWEE. 
 
 mony with the deep shadows of the thick forest where he 
 so constantly takes up his abode. Generally the last syl- 
 lable is given in a gentle upward slide, but not infrequently 
 in a fine falling inflection, and the two syllables combined 
 are always very pleasing. Wood Pewees have the sweet and 
 child-like tones of the family; and, like the sentences of 
 little children, they are delivered in the most significant 
 slides and inflections. 
 
 About the size of Traill's Flycatcher and the small Green 
 Crested some six inches in length and of the same gen- 
 eral olive-green above and yellowish-white beneath (only 
 the olive is quite a good deal darker than that of the latter), 
 it is always to be differentiated by its nest, which is a very 
 gem in bird-building. Saddled on a forked limb, often in 
 the orchard, often in the forest, it is quite shallow, composed 
 outwardly of dried grasses or stalks of small weeds, closely 
 22 
 
338 THE WOOD PEWEE. 
 
 fastened together with spider's web or silk of cocoons, and 
 most elegantly covered with lichens, the whole appearing 
 from below like a fine gray gnarl the natural growth of the 
 limb. It is lined with fine rootlets, sometimes mixed with 
 vegetable down, or with fine grasses, including the fringy 
 tops still green in color. This nest bears a great resem- 
 blance to that of the Humming-bird. 
 
 In its inclination to be sociable with man for it loves to 
 be in the orchard in his immediate neighborhood in gentle, 
 retiring ways, in sweetness of voice, and in architectural 
 skill, the Wood Pewee is at once the- elite and the favorite of 
 its family. 
 
 The eggs, commonly three, late in June or in July, some 
 .70 x -55, are creamy white, with a wreath of rather heavy 
 dark spots intermixed with many which are pale, as if partly 
 effaced. 
 
 Wintering in the tropics, this bird summers in the Eastern 
 United States generally, and in the British Provinces, breed- 
 ing throughout. On the whole, it is rather a late migrant, 
 reaching us about the middle of May, and leaving in Sep- 
 tember. 
 
 Most wonderful is that grouping of characters in natural 
 objects by which they can be classified. How came there 
 to be family resemblances where we do not find that com- 
 munity of descent ever existed ? Why are we constantly 
 detecting plans in the almost endlessly varied structures 
 of natural history ? How is it that a science or the under- 
 standing of nature by means of related forms and functions 
 is possible ? How can we fail to see here the evidences of 
 an intelligent Creator, whose thoughts are thus wrought 
 out into systems and designs ? These things prove that the 
 world neither made itself nor came by chance.. 
 
 In its broadest relationship, the family of birds called 
 
THE OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER, 339 
 
 Flycatchers are formed throughout the tropical world, but 
 the Flycatchers of America are a peculiar and well differ- 
 entiated branch, some of which extend into north temperate 
 latitudes. They are so distinctively marked as to be readily 
 distinguishable from all other birds. Especially is this true of 
 that division of the family peculiar to North America, the 
 Tyrannidcz. The great body of the nearly four hundred 
 species constituting the entire American group belongs to 
 Central and South America, and are exceedingly varied in 
 the details of form and color, some of them being very brill- 
 iant. Ours are merely the outlying and plainer varieties. 
 
 Our North American Flycatchers, the Tyrannidce, may be 
 distinguished by their rather large head, the crown feathers 
 of which are more or less erectile; by the bill, which, broad 
 at the base, rapidly narrowing to a sharp point, and 
 depressed or flattened across the top and underneath, 
 appears triangular when viewed from above, the upper 
 mandible being hooked and notched near the tip, while the 
 mouth is provided with stiff bristling hairs on either side; by 
 the wing, the ten primaries of which are of full length and 
 narrowed, or emarginate near the end; by the feet and legs, 
 noticeably small and weak for the size of the bird; and by the 
 voice, which, for the most part, is harsh. Solitary in their 
 habits, they are generally brave, and, on account of their 
 strictly insectivorous habits, are very useful. 
 
 THE OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 Belonging to this same genus, Contopus, is the Olive-sided 
 Flycatcher (Contopus borealis). About 7.50 long, hav- 
 ing the form of the Wood Pewee and the color of 
 the Common Pewee, or Phoebe, it is always to be 
 distinguished from the latter by its light-colored under 
 mandible, its dark olivaceous sides, a'nd its " tuft of white, 
 
340 SMALL GREEN-CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 fluffy feathers on the flank." It is readily distinguishable 
 from all the smaller Flycatchers by its greater size. Both 
 in structure and position, its nest resembles that of the King- 
 bird, but its eggs, some . 85 X. 65, are merely an enlarged 
 pattern of those of the Wood Pewee. As its name indicates, 
 this bird is of northern habitat, breeding from New England 
 to high latitudes. Its notes and habits of diet are those of 
 the Flycatchers in general. The former are given by Nut- 
 tall as "ehphebee" or "Kphebw" in a whistling tone some- 
 what guttural at the commencement. To my ear, as I 
 listened to it recently in Nova Scotia, it sounded like,/#/, 
 pe-wee, the first syllable short and aspirated, the two follow- 
 ing drawn out in loud, clear, whistling tones. 
 
 SMALL GREEN-CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 In a shadowy part of the woods, where young hemlocks 
 are thickly interspersed, I hear sharp, quick notes, pee-whee, 
 quee-ree-ee, which I at once recognize as those of the Small 
 Green-crested Fly-catcher (Empidonax acadicus] , a very com- 
 mon summer resident of our upland woods. I look sharply 
 into the shadows for some time before I get sight of it. It 
 is perched on a dead limb, near the base of a small hemlock; 
 and always accompanies its note with a quick jerk of the 
 tail. Like the rest of the Flycatchers, it sits still on its 
 perch and waits for its prey; and when that prey appears, 
 be it beetle, fly, or moth, it darts quickly after it, cutting a 
 smooth curve, which is sure to intercept it, and seizing it 
 with a sharp click of the mandibles. With its quick, well- 
 directed movement, the broad gape of its deeply cleft 
 mouth and tangle of bristles on each side of it, there is but 
 a slim chance of escape for its victim. 
 
 Some six inches in length, the crown feathers somewhat 
 long and erected; the whole upper parts fine olive-green; 
 
SMALL GREEN-CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 341 
 
 the under parts yellowish-white, with an ashy tinge on the 
 sides and across the breast; tail and wings dusky; the bars 
 across the latter, as also the margins of the secondaries and 
 tertiaries, the eye-lids and feathers about the flank, light 
 greenish-yellow; feet and upper mandible, deep brown or 
 dusky; under mandible, pale this bird is of pleasing ap- 
 pearance a sprightly and cheerful ornament of the forest. 
 There is nothing about it which wins our sympathy, how- 
 ever, as do the sweet plaintive notes and the elegant nest 
 of the Wood Pewee. 
 
 Its nest, rather loose and rustic, is quite unique. Placed 
 rather low, perhaps from five to nine feet from the ground, 
 generally on the limb of a small evergreen, sometimes in a 
 small hard-wood tree, it is loosely hung by the sides to a 
 more or less fork-shaped part of the limb. Some three 
 inches or more in external diameter, and some two inches 
 or more through, it is loosely, even raggedly, woven of the 
 fine spray of the hemlock, interspersed with grasses and 
 some fibrous bark, or principally of fine grasses interspersed 
 with the hemlock spray and bits of bark-fiber, more or less 
 fastened together throughout with a fine webby or downy 
 material, which also binds it to the forked limb; and it is 
 ornamented with the bud-scales of the beech, and some- 
 times with its dried stamenate blossoms. The inside, some 
 two inches across and rather more than one inch in depth, 
 is lined with fine hemlock spray, or fine grasses, or both; if 
 principally of the latter, it has a light feathery appear- 
 ance. It is always so loosely made that one can see through 
 it. 
 
 The eggs, about .75 X .50, are cream color, and sparsely 
 specked or spotted with brown about the larger end or half. 
 The female sits very closely; sometimes she can be caught 
 in the hand, if one creeps stealthily under the nest; some- 
 
342 THE HOODED WARBLER. 
 
 times she will defend her nest most persistently, flying at 
 the intruder with sharp notes and a snapping of the bill. 
 
 Rare in Southern New England, and scarcely extending 
 beyond the Mississippi, the principal breeding range of 
 acadicus (geographically a false name) is the middle dis- 
 trict of the United States. 
 
 THE HOODED WARBLER. 
 
 From different points in the thick woods comes 
 the common and familiar song of the Hooded War- 
 bler (Mywdioctes mitratus) cheree-cheree-cheree-chi-di-ee, the 
 first three notes with a loud bell-like ring, and the 
 rest in very much accelerated time, and with the 
 falling inflection. Arriving early in May, this is one of 
 our common summer residents throughout the dense 
 upland forests, occupying the lower story of the woodland 
 home, while the Ccerulean Warbler occupies the upper. 
 Here let me say that, in addition to its alarm note, a sharp 
 whistling or metallic chip, which is very clearly character- 
 ized, the Hooded Warbler has two distinct songs, as differ- 
 ent as if coming from different species. Never shall I for- 
 get how I was once puzzled by this. I was strolling in a 
 thick forest near the corner of a slashing at evening twi- 
 light, in June, when I was surprised by a strange whistling 
 melody whee-ree-whee-ree-eeh, with a marked emphasis on 
 the second syllable, and a still more marked one on the 
 last. Part of the time this utterance was somewhat varied, 
 a few notes being sometimes added, and again a few drop- 
 ped. My curiosity was greatly excited, for I had supposed 
 myself familiar with the sylvan voices in the neigh- 
 borhood, but it soon became too dark to identify the bird. 
 For nearly a week I went to that spot every day, always 
 hearing the song, but never being able to get a clear sight 
 
THE HOODED WARBLER. 343 
 
 of the singer. It seemed exceedingly shy. In vain did I 
 crawl on hands and knees among the undergrowth to get 
 near to it, for just as I would seem about to gain a good 
 view of it, the song would cease at the point under obser- 
 vation, and come from one more distant. Just as I was 
 about to give the matter up, one evening, down came the 
 singer, stage by stage, through the thick foliage, and, alight- 
 ing within a few feet of me and in clear sight, gave the 
 full effect of his whistling song. I have since heard the 
 same song a number of times and in different places from 
 the Hooded Warbler. So I conclude that in the case of 
 this species there are, occasionally at least, two distinct and 
 altogether different songs. 
 
 Five inches or a little more in length, all the upper parts are 
 of a fine olivaceous-green, all the under parts bright yellow; 
 the two outer feathers on each side of the tail are white nearly 
 to the base; a jet-black hood, covering the crown and back 
 of the head, extending along the sides of the neck around 
 the cheeks and completely covering the foreneck and 
 throat distinguishes the male. The sunlight on his breast, 
 the hues of the forest on his back, and the emblems of 
 mourning about his head as he peers out modestly from 
 among the foliage, he is one of the most strikingly beautiful 
 of all our large and elegant family of Warblers. The female 
 is similar, but much less brilliant, and has the mere outline 
 of the black hood. 
 
 The Hooded Warbler belongs to the Flycatching War- 
 blers, the bills of which resemble those of the Flycatchers, 
 but in regard to all other points, especially the feet, they 
 are true Warblers. The flesh-colored feet and legs of this 
 bird denote that it is a Ground Warbler; that is, it belongs 
 to those Warblers which make their home on or near the 
 ground. Here it keeps itself, for the most part, well con- 
 
344 WILSON'S BLACK-CAP. 
 
 cealed among the foliage of the thick undergrowth, having a 
 rather slow and dignified movement for a bird of its kind. 
 
 It builds its nest from a foot to 18 inches from the ground, 
 generally in the upright or somewhat leaning fork of a 
 little bush. I once found it in a beech limb, lying on the 
 ground, but still retaining the dry leaves. It is somewhat 
 bulky, but quite neat, the lower part being of dry or skele- 
 ton leaves, the upper part, especially the high and well- 
 defined rim, of long fibrous bark, as that of the grape-vine, 
 ash, bass-wood or elm, laid almost as nicely as coiled cords, 
 the whole structure being bound together by a webby 
 material, and lined with fine grasses, bark-fibers and horse- 
 hair. In location, material and structure, it is quite unique, 
 and, like most other birds' nests, is a much more certain 
 means of identification than the eggs themselves. These, 
 2-4, varying from .63X.52 to .Y5X.50, are clear white, deli- 
 cately specked and spotted, sometimes even blotched, with 
 reddish brown and lilac. In form and coloration the eggs 
 are'very variable. They may be found fresh from the last 
 week in May till the middle of June. A second set may 
 sometimes be found in July. The male aids in incubation. 
 
 Confined to the eastern part of the United States, 
 and barely entering the southern part of New England, 
 Western and Central New York, where it is quite common, 
 must be about the northern limit of this species. 
 
 WILSON'S BLACK-CAP. 
 
 Wilson's Black-cap (Myiodioctes pusillus], regarded as 
 closely related to the above species, appears here occasion- 
 ally as a migrant. Mr. Bruce, of Brockport, New York, 
 once saw a large flock actively gleaning insects in a row of 
 willow trees, about the middle of May. I have known one, 
 also, to be taken in Western New York; but I have never 
 
THE LEAST PEWEE. 345 
 
 seen it myself. Mr. Smith gives it as a migrant through 
 Maine, but not common; and Mr. Chamberlain reports it as 
 an uncommon summer resident in New Brunswick. Audu- 
 bon found it breeding commonly in Labrador, the nest 
 being "placed on the extremity of a small horizontal 
 branch, amongst the thick foliage of dwarf firs, not more 
 than from 3-5 feet from the ground, and in the center of the 
 thickets of these trees, so common in Labrador. The mate- 
 rials of which it is composed are bits of dry moss and 
 delicate pine twigs, agglutinated together and to the 
 branches or leaves around it, beneath which it is sus- 
 pended; the lining is of extremely fine and transparent 
 fibers. The greatest diameter does not exceed 3% inches, 
 and the depth is not more than 1^. The eggs are 4, dull 
 white, sprinkled with reddish and brown dots toward the 
 larger end, where the markings form a circle, leaving the 
 extremity plain." Mr. Allen found the Black-cap " a com- 
 mon inhabitant of the sub-alpine and alpine districts in the 
 Colorado Mountains, breeding from about 8,000 feet up to 
 about the timber line." Dr. Coues found it a common 
 summer resident in the mountainous districts of Arizona 
 from May to September. Neither of them, however, found 
 the nest. Small; length, 4.60; stretch, 7.00; bill much 
 feathered, after the manner of the Flycatchers; the color, 
 yellowish-green above, becoming brownish on wing and 
 tail; forehead, sides of the head and under parts, bright 
 yellow; the black patch on the crown being less extended in 
 the female, and wanting in the young. The food is taken 
 on the wing with a click of the bill, also after the manner of 
 the Flycatchers. 
 
 THE LEAST PEWEE. 
 
 As I approach the edge of the woods on a rather low spot 
 of ground, I hear the unmistakable notes of the Least 
 
346 THE YELLOW-BELLIED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 Pewee (Empidonax minimus] sewick, sewick, written by some 
 "chebec" quickly and sharply uttered. It has been here 
 for two weeks or more. About the color of the common 
 Phcebe (Sayornis fusctts), only a little grayer about the 
 head, and scarcely more than five inches long, it is much 
 smaller than the rest of our Flycatchers; and, not to speak 
 of its peculiar notes, has a nest wholly unlike that of any 
 of them, and eggs which never can be mistaken for those 
 of any other bird in our locality; and yet, numerous as it is 
 throughout the Eastern United States, neither Audubon 
 nor Wilson distinguished it. It is very common here, par- 
 ticularly in thickets, the borders of the low-land forests, 
 and the more open swamps. The nest, generally placed 
 out of reach, sometimes fifteen feet or upward from the 
 ground, commonly in the top fork of a small tree or sap- 
 ling, sometimes on a horizontal limb, is neat and very closely 
 compacted, composed outwardly of wood or bark-fibers, 
 sometimes well intermixed and ornamented with vegetable 
 down, and lined with fine fibers of bark, fine grasses and 
 vegetable down in general, sometimes with fine feathers. 
 The entire nest bears a strong resemblance to that of the 
 Redstart. The eggs, three or four, from .60 or .65X.50, are 
 pure white. "Breeds abundantly from Southern New 
 England northward." (Coues.) Eggs are found here late in 
 May or early in June. 
 
 THE YELLOW-BELLIED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 I have also taken the Yellow-bellied Pewee (Empidonax 
 flaviventris), here in Orleans County late in May. As it 
 ranges throughout North America and breeds from the 
 Middle States northward, it probably breeds here. About 
 5.50 long, and olive-green above, it is readily distin- 
 guishable by its bright yellow under parts. The ring 
 
TR A ILL'S FLYCATCHER. 347 
 
 around the eye, the lower mandible, and the bars across the 
 wing-coverts are also yellow. Its note is said to be a " low 
 pe-a" and its so-called song is said to sound like the sylla- 
 bles killick, repeated at rather long intervals. As to the 
 nest and eggs of this species, authors have been quite con- 
 fused; some reporting them pure white and others spotted; 
 but a nest examined by Messrs. Deane and Pardie, on the 
 18th of June, 1878, was quite conclusive. It was placed in 
 the upturned roots of a tree; and "a large dwelling it was 
 for so small and trim a bird. Built in and on to the black 
 mud clinging to the roots, but two feet from the ground, 
 the bulk of the nest was composed of dry moss, while the 
 outside was faced with beautiful fresh-green mosses, thickest 
 around the rim or parapet. The home of the Bridge Pe- 
 wee (Sayorms fuscus) was at once suggested. But no mud 
 entered into the actual composition of the nest, though at 
 first we thought so, so much was clinging to it when re- 
 moved. The lining was mainly of fine black rootlets, with 
 a few pine-needles and grass-stems. * * * The eggs, 
 four in number, were perfectly fresh, rounded-oval in shape, 
 and of a beautiful rosy-white tint, well spotted with a light 
 reddish shade of brown." An elegant nest, sent me from 
 Nova Scotia by Mr. Wagner, is made of fine dried grasses, 
 arranged in a bunch of moss. The four white eggs, some 
 .71 X.50, are beautifully specked, spotted, and even blotched 
 about the large end with light red. The nest was taken 
 from the ground with fresh eggs the 15th of June. 
 
 TRAILL'S FLYCATCHER. 
 
 Another Flycatcher about our low lands and swamps, and 
 especially along streams in such places, is Traill's Flycatcher 
 (Empidonax trailing. About six inches long, or sometimes a 
 little less, it is to be distinguished from the small Green- 
 
348 COOPER'S HA WK. 
 
 crested Flycatcher by the darker olive of the upper parts, and 
 from the Yellow-bellied Flycatcher by its entire lack of the 
 bright yellow beneath, as well as by the absence of the 
 clear greenish tinge so distinctive in the upper parts of the 
 latter. Its voice, habit of location, and also the structure 
 of its nest, differentiate it very clearly. Its ordinary note 
 is a. pip or chip, and what is sometimes called its song has 
 been written che-bee-u. Indeed, a careful study of the more 
 prominent notes of the smaller Flycatchers will distinguish 
 them all. 
 
 The nest, which, according to the local habit of the bird, 
 is in some swampy region, is placed in the upright fork of 
 a bush or sapling, is quite compact, and externally bears 
 indeed no small resemblance to that of the Yellow Warbler, 
 except that it is a little larger. The outside is of gray fi- 
 brous material, intermixed with the bleached blades of dried 
 grasses; the inside is of fine dried grasses, closely laid, and 
 the whole structure is more or less mixed with vegetable 
 down. As is the case with most Flycatchers, the interior 
 of the nest is large for the size of the bird. The eggs, 
 commonly three, some . 68 x -50, are creamy white, the larger 
 half being more or less spotted and specked with reddish- 
 brown. 
 
 Wintering in the tropics, Traill's Flycatcher finds its 
 breeding habitat in the Eastern United States and the 
 British Provinces, reaching the latter during the latter half 
 
 of May. 
 
 COOPER'S HAWK. 
 
 In the top of a tall beech tree, I discover a hawk's nest, 
 and while I am querying whether it be new or old, the 
 female of Cooper's Hawk (Acctpiter cooperi} alights on a 
 limb near the nest, and presently drops into it. At the same 
 time I see a friend passing along the winter road near 
 
COOPER'S HA WK. 349 
 
 by, carrying a fine rifle. He is a good marksman, so I 
 beckon him to my assistance. As I strike on the trunk of 
 the tree the bird leaves the nest, and my friend takes her 
 on the wing. Down she comes, so gradually that she almost 
 appears as if alighting, and skimming along near the ground 
 for some distance, finally drops, squealing loudly enough 
 to alarm the whole feathered tribe in the neighborhood. 
 As I approach her, she defends herself with the heroism of 
 a true Hawk. The bullet has passed through her thigh, 
 shattering the bone thoroughly, and the two outer pinions 
 of one wing are cut away. But why should this simple 
 shattering of the thigh bring down so strong a bird so 
 readily ? The explanation is to be found in the peculiar 
 anatomy of the bird. In 1761, Peter Camper, a distinguished 
 Dutch anatomist, discovered that the cavities in the bones 
 of birds, which Gabbe had already observed to contain no 
 marrow, were in direct communication with the lungs, and 
 so participated in respiration. In 1774, John Hunter, the 
 great English comparative anatomist, verified the same in his 
 marvelous researches into the anatomy of birds. Extending 
 their investigations in the most able manner throughout the 
 entire class of birds, they discovered that " the air-cells and 
 lungs can be inflated from the bones, and Hunter injected 
 the medullary cavities of the bones from the trachea. If 
 the femur" the thigh bone " into which the air is admitted be 
 broken, the bird is unable to raise itself in flight. If the trachea 
 be tied and an opening be made into the humerus" the up- 
 per wing-bone " the bird will respire by that opening for 
 a short period, and may be killed by inhaling noxious gases 
 through it. If an air-bone of a living 1 bird, similarly per- 
 forated, be held in water, bubbles will rise from it, and a 
 motion of the contained air will be exhibited, synchronous 
 with the motions of inspiration and expiration. 
 
350 COOPER'S HAWK. 
 
 11 The proportion in which the skeleton is permeated by 
 air varies in different birds. In the Alca impennis, the Pen- 
 guins (Aptenodytes) and the Apteryx, air is not admitted into 
 any of the bones. The condition of the osseous system, 
 therefore, which all birds present at the early periods of ex- 
 istence, is here retained through life. 
 
 "In the large Struthious Birds, which are remarkable for 
 the rapidity of their course, the thigh-bones and bones of 
 the pelvis, the vertebral column, ribs, sternum and scapular 
 arch, the cranium and lower jaw, have all air admitted into 
 their cavities or cancellous structure. In the Ostrich the 
 Jmmeri and other bones of the wings, the tibia and distal 
 bones of the legs, retain their marrow. Most birds of flight 
 have air admitted into the humerus ; the Woodcock and 
 Snipe are exceptions. The Pigeon tribe, with the exception 
 of the Crown Pigeon, have no air in the femur, which re- 
 tains its marrow. In the Owls also the femur is filled with 
 marrow; but in the Diurnal Birds of prey, as in almost 
 all other birds of flight, the femur is filled with air. In the 
 Pelican and Gannet the air enters all the bones with the 
 exception of the phalanges of the toes. In the Hornbill 
 even these are permeated by air."* 
 
 My specimen of Cooper's Hawk is one of the largest, 
 some 20 inches long. She is sometimes scarcely more than 18 
 inches long, while the male is never more than 18, and may not 
 exceed 16 inches in length. This species, which in structure 
 and color is almost precisely like that of the Sharp-shinned 
 Hawk, being, however, unmistakably larger, makes with it, 
 and it only in this country, a strongly marked genus, the 
 Accipiter the distinctive generic points being: 1st, that the 
 feathers extend but slightly down the tarsus; 2d, that the 
 toes are long and very slender, much webbed at the base, 
 
 * Comparative Anatomy and Physiology of Vertebrates, by Richard Owen, Vol. 1, pp. 
 213, 214. 
 
CO OPER' S HA WK. 351 
 
 and thickly padded; 3d, that the fourth primary is longest, 
 the "second shorter than the sixth," and the first noticeably 
 short; 4th, the soft and finely blended character of the 
 colors above, in maturity being a fine ashy-brown, black- 
 ish on the head. The under parts of both birds are white, 
 with fine cross-streaks of light-reddish. They bear about 
 the same relation to each other as that of the Hairy to the 
 Downy Woodpecker. Cooper's Hawk is especially a bird 
 of the United States, most common in the Northern States, 
 and extending but slightly into the British Provinces. The 
 Sharp-shinned Hawk is sometimes found here in winter, 
 but Cooper's Hawk goes farther south. Early in May is 
 the time for the nidification of the latter in this locality. 
 The nest, in the crotch of a tall tree, or where several limbs 
 join the trunk, always very high, is built of sticks and lined 
 with dry grass, or strips of bark, sometimes containing 
 feathers, the depression being but slight. The eggs, 3 or 4, 
 sometimes 5, about 1.90 x 1.50, are white, greenish or 
 grayish tinged, often clear, sometimes slightly blotched 
 with dark drab or brown. Mr. Samuels mentions a pair 
 robbed of their eggs four times in the same season. " They 
 built different nests in the same grove, and laid in the four 
 litters, four, five, and three eggs, respectively. The eggs 
 of the last litter were very small, but little larger than 
 those of the Sharp-shinned Hawk." 
 
 The ordinary flight of this bird is rapid and straight- 
 forward, the regular strokes of the wings being frequently 
 relieved by sailing. In the mating season, when it is very 
 noisy, having a note which sounds like chee-e-e-ah, I have 
 seen it, high in air, above the tops of the tallest trees, shoot- 
 ing toward one of its kind whose voice it heard in the dis- 
 tance, with half-closed and perfectly motionless wings, and 
 with a rocket-like speed and a gracefulness which no 
 
352 THE SHARP- SHINNED HAWK. 
 
 language could describe. In pursuit of its prey, which may 
 consist of small quadrupeds, the smaller ducks and waders, 
 grouse, and the larger kinds of the common land-birds, it 
 moves with great spirit and adroitness, and seldom misses 
 its quarry. So well known is it in the poultry yard that it 
 is called the "Chicken Hawk." When reared from the nest 
 it becomes so thoroughly domesticated as to need no con- 
 finement. 
 
 THE SHARP-SHINNED HAWK. 
 
 The Sharp-shinned Hawk (Accipiter fuscus], in every way 
 so similar to Cooper's Hawk, is some 12 inches long; brown 
 or slate-colored above, with a few white spots on the back 
 of the head and on the scapulars; tail also brown or 
 ashy, but considerably lighter, with fine dark bands across 
 it, sometimes tipped with whitish; the white under parts 
 closely and narrowly barred with reddish; throat, narrowly 
 streaked lengthwise with brown. Its nest is similarly placed 
 to that of the former species, only not so high up in the 
 tree, but is occasionally placed on a rock. The eggs, some 
 4, are about 1.40 x 1.20, roundish, clear white, or perhaps 
 slightly tinged with blue or green, heavily and distinctly 
 marked patched with brown. 
 
 This Hawk reaches Western New York the latter part of 
 April, and its eggs are laid early in May. It is readily dis- 
 tinguished by its short, broad wings, and rather nervous 
 and irregular flight; but it moves rapidly, and sometimes 
 with great impetuosity, so that it has been known to pass 
 through several glass partitions of a green-house. Seizing 
 its prey on the wing, in the manner of a true Hawk, it dashes 
 after it with the utmost directness, moving high or low, to 
 the right or left, as if by some continuous attraction. With 
 an unerring stroke, it wounds fatally in the very act of 
 capture, and then bears its prey to a tree, to be devoured at 
 
THE SHARP-SHINNED HAWK. 353 
 
 leisure. In addition to the small birds thus taken on the 
 wing, it may pounce on one larger and heavier than itself, 
 or it may swoop down upon the small quadrupeds, or, after 
 the manner of the smaller Hawks in general, make its repast 
 even on insects. As with birds of prey in general, the surest 
 way of escaping its clutches is by soaring; the thickets, into 
 which the smaller birds generally dive when pursued, 
 affording but little obstruction to its penetrating flight. Its 
 note, which is but seldom heard, is sharp and shrill. 
 Ranging over all North America, it may be found in New 
 York and Massachusetts during mild winters. 
 
 23 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 BIRDS AROUND THE HOUSE. 
 
 ON a beautiful sunny morning, the 16th of May, I am 
 watching the birds and listening to them from my study 
 window. From the apple trees and the currant bushes in 
 the garden comes the voluble and sprightly song of the 
 Common Wren {Troglodytes aedon). Of all the songs of 
 birds within the range of our acquaintance, there is no mel- 
 ody more gushing, more sparkling, more full of the very 
 soul of vital energy, than the warbling, twittering perform- 
 ance of this most active and industrious little creature. If 
 the syllables have not that measured cadence, nor the tones 
 that heart-searching vibration, which move one to melan- 
 choly or to joy, to prayer or to praise, it touches the nerves 
 with a startling impulse, like the gust of the summer wind 
 shaking the leaves, the patter of rain on the roof, or the 
 streaming of sunshine through a rift of the clouds. How 
 much quicker my thoughts move after that trill from the 
 garden wall, and how suggestive is each note of its repeti- 
 tion ! Now he mounts a hitching-post, in full view, in the 
 adjoining church-yard, and the sight of him is almost as 
 animating as his voice. The tail, which drooped during 
 his song, is immediately thrown up and forward as it ceases; 
 he twists and turns upon his nimble feet as if on a swivel 
 or pivot, that can let him up and down and around in every 
 direction ; his sharp bill signals every point of the com- 
 
THE COMMON WREN. 355 
 
 pass, and his tiny, sparkling eye seems to take in every 
 object. 
 
 Now he drops from the post, and flying low, with a steady 
 flutter of his short, round wings, he dives into a thicket of 
 rose bushes. Here he slides up and down the stems like an 
 automaton, peers under the leaves with every conceivable 
 twist of the neck, and runs on the ground, darting in and 
 out of rubbish with the quickness and penetration of a 
 mouse. 
 
 The great variety and abundance of his insect food, 
 whether gleaned amidst the thick foliage, drawn from 
 chinks and crevices, or captured on the wing, is taken so 
 adroitly that only the close observer can comprehend the 
 important services of this restless and diminutive species 
 in subduing these pests of the house and garden. Alas, 
 that man, that lord of creation, should eat his currants, his 
 cabbage' and his lettuce, all unconscious of how much the 
 birds have saved for him ! 
 
 Presently I hear the Wren again, and in altogether another 
 part of the garden. This time he is not a singer but a 
 scold. How angry is his chirp, as he berates that white cat, 
 which, standing fair in front of his retreat in the blackberry 
 bushes, ogles him with her green fire-balls, and moves the 
 end of her tail in signal of the murder-prepense in her heart. 
 But this wee Wren is one of the bravest of birds, and is 
 always so well on the alert that Grimalkin soon gives up in 
 despair, and concludes to suffer alike the mortification of 
 the scolding and the disappointment of the stomach. 
 
 Having been quite curious as to the nesting of this Wren, 
 which has come so regularly to these premises for years, I 
 go out into the yard and watch his movements. There, he 
 has taken a spider from that web in the apple-tree and has dis- 
 appeared under the horse-sheds back of the church. Conclud- 
 
356 THE COMMON WREN. 
 
 ing that his nest is somewhere in that structure, I hide away 
 and watch. In a few moments he flits down and drops into a 
 rather loose mortise-joint, where a brace enters a post. The 
 entrance is very small, but there is quite a space inside. 
 Having examined any considerable number of nests, one 
 can conceive the contents and arrangement of such a cavity 
 without access to it. However large the space, it will be 
 well filled up with rough, crooked twigs, leaving a bristling 
 and irregular passage barely large enough to admit the tiny 
 occupant, which passage leads to the nest, ensconced away 
 in the remotest corner. The nest proper is composed of 
 dried grasses well laid, and is well lined with hair and 
 feathers. The variety of cavities appropriated for a nest 
 by this pertinacious little bird is beyond account the bird- 
 box, the holes about the house-cornice, a hole in a post or 
 in an old apple-tree, the mucl dwelling of the Have Swallow, 
 the inside of a log-pump, the pocket or sleeve of an old 
 coat hanging in an out-building, an old hat with rent crown 
 stuck up against the wall, the brain-cavity of a horse's skull 
 mounted on a stake in short, any cavity into which suffi- 
 cient material of the proper kind can be stowed and arranged 
 for a breeding tenement. A nest once found in the clothes- 
 line box of Professor Ware, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, 
 and which has attained classic fame, filled a space " consid- 
 erably more than a foot square," and consisted of "the exuvia 
 of a snake several feet in length, large twigs, pieces of India- 
 rubber suspenders, oak leaves, feathers, pieces of shavings, 
 hair, hay, etc., etc." 
 
 With what boldness and pugnacity this Wren will drive 
 the gentle Bluebird, or the large Black Martin from his box; 
 how he will dislodge the Eave Swallow from his jug-nosed 
 tenement; thus taking possession of the rightful home of 
 another, on which he has no claim whatever; and how he 
 
.THE EAVE SWALLOW. 357 
 
 will contend for his premises with those of his own kind, 
 is familiar to all who know him. 
 
 The eggs of this species, some half-dozen or upward, 
 about .60X-48, are a delicate flesh color, very finely specked 
 and sprayed all over with reddish-brown, thickening into a 
 wreath or large spot at the large end. 
 
 About five inches long, this Wren is deep brown, crossed 
 with bars of black above, the head and neck being plain; 
 the throat and breast are buff, or a light clay color; belly 
 and vent white, spotted with brown and black; the tail, 
 which is much longer than that of the Winter Wren about 
 two inches is brown, crossed with lines of black; the feet 
 are flesh color. 
 
 Wintering in the Southern States, this species' ranges 
 throughout the Eastern States, west to Nebraska and Da- 
 kota, and north somewhat into the British Provinces, 
 becoming rare already in Northern New England. 
 
 THE EAVE SWALLOW. 
 
 As I look up into the cloudless sky I am impressed with 
 its great depth and transparency. If I believed in the old 
 Ptolemaic theory of separate crystalline spheres, or hollow 
 globes, in which the various planets, including the sun and the 
 fixed stars as a system, were severally set, each sphere revolv- 
 ing with its own velocity, I should think that some mystic 
 power in the air had been very thoroughly at work, and had 
 newly cleansed and polished these transparent spheres 
 throughout. Against this clear deep, multitudes of Eave 
 or Cliff Swallows (Petrochelidon lunifrons] are describing 
 their elegant flight. This species, and the family it repre- 
 sents, are in the strictest sense ''birds of the air," since 
 they spend nearly all their time in that region. Their small 
 weak feet, long pointed wings and great nervous 
 
358 THE EAVE SWALLOW. 
 
 energy are all in constitutional harmony with this fact. 
 There is a language of motion as well as of sound; hence, 
 like a strain in music, the flight of each bird conveys its 
 peculiar idea. There is majesty in the soaring of the 
 Eagle, alarm in the whir-r-r-r of the Partridge, haste in the 
 whistling strokes of the Duck, joy in the exulting curves of 
 the Goldfinch, and a happy contentment in the easy gyra- 
 tions of the Swallow. My mind goes into repose, and 
 drinks in the sweet spirit of contentment, defying galling 
 burdens and corrosive cares, as my eye follows the spirit- 
 like sweep of those sabre-shaped wings, each curve describ- 
 ing a happy thought on the sunny sky. 
 
 And what a study might there be of marvelous adjust- 
 ment and conformity to mechanical laws, by which this 
 little creature makes its way through the trackless air with 
 such nice accuracy, that it can "pick up a flying gnat " 
 whilst moving " at the rate of more than a hundred miles 
 an hour." Or who can conceive how many tickling and 
 prickling annoyances of insect-life are prevented for us, 
 during the long summer days, by the semi-domestic services 
 of these Swallows, each one of which probably destroys at 
 least a thousand insects every day. 
 
 For some time it has been a question with ornithologists 
 whether the Eave Swallow gradually extended its habitat 
 from Mexico through North America, as it was formerly 
 believed. The very best authorities now conclude that it 
 has always been " amenable to the ordinary laws of migra- 
 tion and spread over nearly all of North America, the South 
 Atlantic States, perhaps, excepted; " and that " the numerous 
 recorded dates of its appearance and breeding in particular 
 localities merely mark the times when the birds forsook 
 their natural breeding places and built under eaves, which 
 enabled them to pass the summer where fortnerly they were 
 
THE EAVE SWALLOW. 359 
 
 unable to breed "for want of suitable accommodations." 
 (Coues.) In the great canons of the west, along the vertical 
 walls beneath shelving rocks, sometimes where great rivers 
 rush between frowning battlements, the strange, bottle- 
 shaped nests of this species, according to its primitive style, 
 are hung by thousands in the most fantastic arrangements. 
 Among all our birds none has discovered so great an incli- 
 nation to accommodate itself to man, and to avail itself 
 of the advantages of civilization, as the various species of 
 the Swallow. The Purple Martin abandons the holes in 
 trees and takes up his abode in almost any convenience 
 about human habitations; the Fork-tailed Swallow has 
 abandoned the trees of the forest and the caves, for the 
 rafters and peaks of the barn, and so has received the 
 name, Barn-swallow; the White-bellied Swallow is inclined 
 to leave his hollow stump for a hole in the wall; the so-called 
 Chimney Swallow, or Swift, has left the hollow trees 
 formerly appropriated, and will rather endure the daily 
 smoke of the chimney than leave the neighborhood of man; 
 even the Sand Martin has shown some inclination to take 
 to cavities under the bridge, and so join the thoroughfare 
 of man, rather than remain in the banks of lonely streams; 
 and how the Eave Swallows will swell their colonies from 
 year to year under those eaves which afford a convenience, 
 every one has had opportunity to note. This tenement of 
 mud is a very artistic thing of its kind. The swell of the 
 main part, the narrowing jug-nosed entrance, so exactly 
 rounded, and the well cemented pellets of mud, giving the 
 external surface such a neat, pebbly appearance, are all 
 entirely beyond human imitation, as I fully satisfied myself 
 by many experiments in the days of my childhood. How 
 cozy it looks up there under the broad eaves. Soft bits of 
 hay and an abundance of down are there, to accommo- 
 
360 THE EAVE SWALLOW. 
 
 date the frail eggs and the tender young. What sweet 
 peace reigns in that little household! What a world of 
 domestic comfort discovers itself in that soft musical chat- 
 ter, so much like animated conversation! What are those 
 little hearts saying to each other, up there away from all the 
 rest of the world? Surely no burdened spirit is carried into 
 the air from that household. But woe to the intruder who 
 may be found within the sacred precincts when the parent 
 returns; and this sometimes occurs in fresh-made nests by 
 pilferers who are too lazy to travel for material for their 
 own domiciles. After a few notes of astonishment and 
 warning, uttered in harsh syllables, the offender is uncere- 
 moniously thrust out, and, held by the scruff of the neck, 
 dangles awkwardly in the air for several seconds, being 
 finally allowed to escape with a volume of execrations.* 
 
 What happy playful creatures are the members of this 
 extremely peaceful colony. Many a sport do they enjoy, 
 unnoticed by the busy and inobservant owner of the premi- 
 ses. See them play with that feather floating like a thistle- 
 down in the air! One seizes it in one of his exact curves, 
 and carries it up many feet, simply to drop it for his com- 
 rade, who again snatches it as it nears the ground, and ele- 
 vates it for the pleasure of the next neighbor who catches it in 
 like manner. Thus the feather is a plaything for the whole 
 company in turn, just as boys would use a ball or a shuttle- 
 cock; and their merriment of chat and laughter is equal to 
 that of the happiest and most animated human voices. 
 
 Those rosy eggs with specks of brown, scarcely to be 
 distinguished from the litters hung to the rafters inside, are 
 incubated by both sexes; and when the young are out of 
 the shell, the parents skim the air most assiduously to 
 
 * The European House Martin has been known to close up the entrance, and so imprison 
 the Common Sparrow of the Old World, which might be entering its nest in search of 
 accommodation for itself; our Martin keeping guard while the mate did the mason work. 
 
THE BLACK MARTIN. 361 
 
 secure the abundance of insect-food necessary to their 
 voracity. For just as nervous people eat much without grow- 
 ing fat, the nourishment of their food being consumed by 
 their nervous energy, so these active birds are almost un- 
 limited eaters. 
 
 Two broods may be raised in a season, and in the latter 
 part of August, the ridge of the barn, or the telegraph 
 wire, attests to the numerous progenies which migrate 
 southward for the winter, to return again to the middle 
 districts, from their distant sojourn, late in April or early 
 in May. 
 
 About five inches long, the tail not being forked, this 
 species has the upper parts a glossy steel-blue, there being 
 a white triangular or crescent-shaped spot on the forehead 
 (hence the specific name lunifrons) ; throat and sides of the 
 head, chestuut; rump, reddish; breast, sides, and collar 
 about the neck, rust-color, becoming white or whitish on the 
 belly. As with the rest of the Swallows, the sexes are 
 nearly alike, and the young are similar. The white or 
 whitish mark on the forehead is always distinctive. 
 
 Wintering in Central America, this species breeds nearly 
 throughout North America. 
 
 THE BLACK MARTIN. 
 
 On this same beautiful morning the Black Martins 
 (Progne purpured] are abroad. The fine curves in flight 
 and the easy but rapid sailing, .as well as the form, mark 
 this bird as a Swallow, huge though he be for one of his 
 kind. His notes, however, are peculiar to himself. Chee-u, 
 chee-u, chee-u, chee-u, uttered in rapid succession, may 
 represent his common vocal performance. Often he adds a 
 peculiar guttural croak or chuckle, especially when alighted 
 about the breeding tenement, the above-described being 
 
362 THE BLACK MARTIN. 
 
 especially his language while on the wing Some seven 
 inches long, wing six inches, tail slightly forked, this species 
 appears large for one of his kind. 
 
 The mature male is "lustrous blue-black" all over. The 
 female and young have a rather dull modification of the 
 color above, being more or less white below, streaked and 
 spotted with gray. 
 
 Undoubtedly this species originally bred in holes in trees, 
 and it is occasionally known to do so still. Now, however, 
 it appropriates a hole in the house-cornice, a bird-box, or 
 an apartment of the dove-house. The " solitary Indian " 
 of the olden times trimmed the boughs from a sapling 
 near his wigwam or rude cabin, "leaving the prongs a foot 
 or two in length, on each of which he hung a gourd, or 
 calabash, properly hollowed out," for the bird's convenience. 
 Later still, on the banks of the Mississippi, the negroes 
 stuck up "long canes, with the same species of apartment 
 fixed to their tops, in which the Martins regularly bred." 
 If rude and savage breasts discover such cordiality toward 
 this bird, what wonder if civilization and refinement attract 
 it by miniature houses, especially since the species follows 
 man to the populous village and the crowded town, and is 
 not disturbed even by the thoroughfares of business. 
 
 The breeding tenement adopted by the Martin is fitted 
 up with a nest of bits of straw, hay, and dry leaves, lined 
 with feathers. The eggs,' some . 95x^0, rather small for 
 the size of the bird, are pure white. Thus the nest and 
 eggs of the Martin bear a close resemblance to those of the 
 White-bellied Swallow. 
 
 Its bill is "very stout" for a Swallow, and is " curved at 
 the end." Its bill of fare is by no means confined to the 
 tiny insects so abundantly captured by the smaller Swal- 
 lows, but includes "wasps, bees, large beetles," etc. 
 
THE HUMMINGBIRD. 363 
 
 All careful observers bear testimony to the remarkable 
 pugnacity of the Martin, which attacks successfully the 
 Hawks and Owls generally, and even the Eagle, and so 
 pesters them as to drive them from the neighborhood, thus 
 securing more or less protection for the Domestic Fowl. It 
 will join common cause with the Kingbird, or it will attack 
 the Kingbird in turn and compel* him to flee. 
 
 Wintering in the tropics, the Black Martin ranges 
 throughout the United States and far north into Canada, 
 breeding nearly throughout its range. It reaches New 
 York late in April, and leaves late in August or early in 
 September. Late in August they sometimes assemble in 
 large flocks, after the manner of the Swallows generally, 
 preparatory to their southward flight. 
 
 THE HUMMINGBIRD. 
 
 As I am gazing on that Tartarian honeysuckle a thing 
 of splendid beauty, with its abundant sprays of blossoms of 
 snowy white and bright purple set off by an exuberance of 
 dark-green leaves a Ruby-throated Hummingbird (Tro- 
 chilus colubris] shoots around the house and hums in front 
 of the clusters of blossoms. There are many birds, the 
 flight of which is so rapid that the strokes of their wings 
 cannot be counted, but here is a species with such nerve 
 of wing that its wing-strokes cannot be seen. "A hazy 
 semicircle of indistinctness on each side of the bird is all 
 that is perceptible." Poised m the air, his body nearly 
 at the perpendicular, he seems to hang in front of the flow- 
 ers, which he probes so hurriedly, one after the other, with 
 his long slender bill. That long, tubular, fork-shaped tongue 
 may be sucking up the nectar from those rather small cylin- 
 drical blossoms, or it may be capturing tiny insects housed 
 away there. Much more like a large sphinx moth, hover- 
 
364 THE HUMMINGBIRD. 
 
 ing and humming over the flowers in the dusky twilight, 
 than like a bird, appears this delicate fairy-like beauty. 
 How the bright green of the body gleams and glistens in 
 
 THE HUMMINGBIRD. 
 
 the sunlight; while the ruby-colored throat, changing with 
 the angle of light as the bird moves, is like a bit of black 
 velvet above the white under parts, or it glows and shimmers 
 like a flame. Each imperceptible stroke of those tiny wings 
 conforms to the mechanical laws of flight, in all their 
 subtle complications, with an ease and gracefulness that seems 
 spiritual. Who can fail to note that fine adjustment of the 
 organs of flight to aerial elasticity and gravitation, by which 
 that astonishing bit of nervous energy can rise and fall 
 almost on the perpendicular, dart from side to side, as if by 
 magic, or, assuming the horizontal position, pass out of 
 sight like a shooting star ? Is it not impossible to con- 
 ceive of all this being done by that rational calculation 
 
THE HUMMINGBIRD. 365 
 
 which enables the rower to row, or the sailor to sail his 
 boat? 
 
 The Hummingbird has alighted on a twig of the cherry- 
 tree near by. I can barely see his feet, like bits of fine- 
 drawn wire, supporting the wee bit of a body. He looks 
 nervously about him, pointing his long bill in every direc- 
 tion, and sidles gracefully along his slender perch. Presently 
 another male appears, with an equally ruby throat, and dash- 
 ing at each other, they describe a swift zigzag, whirling about 
 most perilously, squeaking like mice, and finally disappearing 
 with a rapidity which the eye can follow but for a moment. 
 
 About 3.25 long, this species is golden-green above, with 
 a fine gloss, and white beneath, the wings and tail being a 
 purplish-brown. The male has the metallic-lustrous ruby 
 on the throat, which is wanting in the female and the young. 
 The female has the sides of the tail white. 
 
 The nest of this species, about the size of half a hen's 
 egg, and saddled on a small limb, is made of a soft, vegetable, 
 cottony substance, sometimes white, sometimes reddish or 
 grayish, externally intermixed, perhaps, with the scales 
 of beech-buds a sort of staple article in the nest of many 
 kinds of birds seemingly to give it consistency, the whole 
 structure being most elegantly covered outside with brightly 
 colored lichens ; thus appearing so much like a natural 
 growth or excrescence of the wood itself as generally to 
 elude observation. It may be placed pretty well up in the 
 tree in the depth of the forest, or lower down in the orchard, 
 or on a currant-bush or rose-bush in the garden, or on a 
 coarse weed-stalk in the vicinity. The two tiny oval-oblong 
 eggs, pure white and translucent, lying on their bed of silken 
 down, edged and surrounded with the gayest lichens, never 
 fail to move the heart of the beholder as one of the rarest 
 bits of natural beauty. 
 
366 THE HUMMINGBIRD, 
 
 But the most wonderful characteristic of our Humming- 
 bird, perhaps, considering his tropical relationships, is the 
 great northern range of his summer habitat. Excepting 
 several western species, which migrate along the Rocky 
 Mountains and westward to a pretty high latitude, the four 
 hundred species and upwards which make up the family 
 of Hummingbirds, are found almost entirely in tropical 
 America. They are creatures associated with the high tem- 
 peratures and the luxuriant flora of the American section 
 of the torrid zone. But our tiny wanderer goes all the way 
 through Eastern North America to the semi-frigid regions 
 of Labrador and Hudson's Bay. He is the great traveler 
 of his family. And with what a magic and spirit-like stroke 
 of the wing does he compass sea and land. He passes by 
 the lumbering strokes of the Heron, the Wild Goose or the 
 Eagle, almost like a streak of lightning, and sets at utter 
 defiance all the humming, buzzing wings of the insect 
 world. 
 
 Our Ruby-throat is one of the plain and more diminutive 
 members of his family. In this relationship of hundreds, 
 while the unity binding them together is great, the strongly 
 marked variation characterizing the different groups is still 
 more remarkable. The Sabre-wings, the Coquettes, the 
 Rackets, the Puff-legs, the Sylphs, the Thorn-tails, the Star- 
 fronts, etc., have each their distinguishing peculiarities. 
 Whether we contemplate the snowy down of the Puff-leg, 
 the elegant crest of the Coquette, the pure white ruff of the 
 Ruff-neck tipped with scintillating spangles, the suspended 
 and fantastic patches on the tips of the long tails of the 
 Rackets, the glistening surface of the long scissors-shaped 
 tails of the Sylphs, the glowing points of the Star-fronts, or 
 the burning lustre of the Fiery Topaz, we see that the high- 
 est possible effect of both form and color is here attained. 
 
THE HUMMINGBIRD. 367 
 
 Nor do these marvelous manifestations of beauty serve any 
 necessary purpose whatever in the mode of their existence. 
 The theory of "Struggle for Life" certainly affords no 
 explanation of either their origin or their continuance. 
 Here evidently are beauty and ornament for their own 
 sake, and that of the most astounding and transcendent 
 kind. And why should these "Glittering Fragments of the 
 Rainbow " be found only in " the tropical forests " and 
 " amid the rich drapery of the orchids " of the New World, 
 if mere physical causes are to account for their origin ? As 
 we gaze upon these tiny objects of the most delicate and 
 flaming beauty, our aesthetic nature moving us to tears, let 
 us acknowledge that the hand which made them is Divine. 
 
 The European Sparrow (Passer domesticus), now so com- 
 mon about our houses both in the city and in the country vil- 
 lages, is so well known as to need no description in a work 
 like this. Suffice it to say, it is not a favorite, and the 
 utility of its immigration is doubtful. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE FIRST DAYS OF JUNE. 
 
 WHAT greater charm has the forest than its extensive va- 
 riety of ferns! What a highly- wrought thing of beauty 
 is the pattern of each frond ! In that immense vegetation 
 period in geological history called the coal-age, when no 
 flower breathed its fragrance on the landscape, the immense 
 numbers of magnificent ferns, which have left their imprint 
 in the rocks, assure us, nevertheless, that the world was very 
 beautiful. Of those continents of flowerless plants my 
 imagination is striving to form some conception as I wade 
 through the many varieties of ferns which adorn a low open 
 wood north of the Ridge a place where I frequently go, 
 these first days of June, in search of birds' nests. 
 
 THE GOLDEN-WINGED WARBLER. 
 
 In the center of this grand fernery, the forest is a sort of 
 open grove, letting in the sun with but little obstruction, 
 and thus forming a very paradise for the study of oology. 
 Most birds of the forest shun the gloom and dampness of 
 its more shadowy parts, when locating their nests, and seek 
 out the more or less open spaces, sheltered from the wind 
 and warmed by the sun. Hence I lay me down here, in a 
 fragrant bed of ferns, to listen and observe. On this bright, 
 sunny morning, everything is astir. I am in the midst of a 
 grand concert, which few performances of the human voice, 
 
THE GOLDEN-WINGED WARBLER. 369 
 
 even, can equal. Thrushes, Warblers, Vireos and Sparrows, 
 all harmonizing finely; while the rumbling strokes of the 
 wings of yon male Partridge and the shrill notes of the 
 Crested Flycatcher come in like a drum and tambourine. 
 I am giving particular attention to a fine, soft tone, sound- 
 ing like tsway, dsay, dsay, dsay,, slowly drawn out, and remind- 
 ing one of the leisurely and pleasing hum of an insect. It 
 is the song of the Golden-winged Warbler (Hdminthophaga 
 chrysoptera). Five inches long, the male is a fine slaty-blue 
 above; crown and broad wing-bars, sulphur yellow; cheeks 
 and throat, black; a white line over the eye, and one from 
 the gape backward; under parts grayish- white; outer tail- 
 feathers, marked with white; the female, with all the colors 
 and markings more obscure. Arriving during the second 
 week in May, this species resides with us until September; 
 but it is not numerous, and the nest is by no means easy to 
 find. As I watch the male, pretty well up in a second- 
 growth maple, my attention is arrested by a sharp, chipping 
 note in the thicket just below. Straining my eyes for some 
 minutes, I detect a female Golden-wing, much excited, 
 being in all probability the mate of the one singing. Un- 
 derstanding the excitement and the sharp chipping note as 
 certain evidences of a nest near by, I at once begin search. 
 This is a Ground Warbler, and therefore the nest is, of 
 course, on the ground. After breaking down the ferns and 
 sadly spoiling the beauty of the spot in my thorough but 
 useless search, I retire behind a tree to watch the move- 
 ments of the still excited female. Very soon she drops 
 down from the thicket into an undisturbed spot at the root 
 of a little bush. On creeping up softly, I spy her tail over 
 the edge of the nest, and clapping my hand over her, secure 
 both without difficulty. The nest is uncommonly deep, not 
 very neatly built, outwardly of dried leaves, then of long 
 24 
 
370 THE GOLDEN-WINGED WARBLER. 
 
 pieces of rather coarse bark, then of fine strips of the same 
 and stems of dried grasses, and lined with fine hair-like 
 reddish fibers, which must be the inner bark of the wild 
 grape-vine. The eggs, five in number, small, about .48x 
 .60, scarcely the size of the Goldfinches, are creamish- 
 white, delicately and sparsely specked with brown and lilac 
 at the large end. 
 
 Wintering in Central America, the Golden-wing's sum- 
 mer range is to New England and Canada West, and west 
 to the Missouri. Its nest has been taken as far south as 
 Georgia. 
 
 Similar to the last, but richer and darker in color, and 
 having the black patch on the throat much larger, is Law- 
 rence's Warbler (Helminthophaga lawrencei), of which two 
 have been found in New Jersey. 
 
 Very similar in size and form, as also in general colora- 
 tion, to the Golden-wing, is the White-throated Golden-wing 
 {Helminthophaga leucobronchialis], discovered by Wm. Brew- 
 ster in May of 1870, in Newtonville, Mass. His description 
 is as follows: " Crown, bright yellow, slightly tinged with 
 olive on the occiput. Greater and middle wing-coverts 
 yellow, not as bright as the crown. Superciliary line, cheeks, 
 throat and entire under parts, silky-white, with a slight 
 tinge of pale yellow on the breast. Dorsal surface exclu- 
 sive of the nape which is clear ashy washed with yellow, 
 as are also the outer margins of the secondaries. A narrow 
 line of clear black passes from the base of the upper 
 mandible, through and to a short distance behind the eye, 
 interrupted, however, by the lower eye-lid, which is dis- 
 tinctly white." 
 
 At first it was thought by many to be simply a variety of 
 the Golden-winged Warbler, but up to May, 1879, some 
 nine specimens of the White-throated Golden-wing had been 
 
THE MOURNING WARBLER. ^\ 
 
 identified, mostly in New England, thus fully differentiating 
 it as a species. Its notes and habits in general are very 
 similar to those of its near relatives. 
 
 THE MOURNING WARBLER. 
 
 Seating myself at another point in the vicinity, under the 
 shade of a silky dogwood in full bloom, I study the song 
 of the Mourning Warbler (Geothlypis Philadelphia]. This 
 song, which varies considerably with different individuals, 
 may generally be denoted by the syllables, free, free, free, 
 fruh, fruh the first three being loud and clear, and the 
 last two, in a lower tone, and so much softer and shorter 
 that a moderate distance, or a slight breeze in the opposite 
 direction, may prevent one from hearing them. Having 
 every opportunity for the study of this song for the 
 Mourning Warbler is a common summer resident in thickets 
 and open places of the woods here I find little or no re- 
 semblance between it and the melody of the Water-thrush. 
 
 While I sit watching, the male leaves his place of song 
 in the clump of spice-bushes, and, dropping into the top of 
 some tall cinnamon ferns, meets the female. Well aware 
 how great a desideratum is the nest of this bird, and that it 
 builds on the ground, I begin search on hands and knees 
 with much enthusiasm. I work hard for several hours, till 
 the entire surface for many square rods around has been 
 carefully examined, but find no nest. 
 
 Mr. Burroughs reports a nest found "in a bunch of ferns, 
 and about six inches from the ground. It was quite a mas- 
 sive nest, composed entirely of the stalks and leaves of dry 
 grass, with an inner lining of fine, dark-brown roots. The 
 eggs, three in number, were of light flesh color, uniformly 
 specked with fine brown specks. The cavity of the nest 
 was so deep that the back of the sitting bird sank below 
 
372 THE REDSTART. 
 
 the edge." This instance is quite representative of the usual 
 manner of the nesting of this species. Sometimes, how- 
 ever, the nest would seem to be less bulky. It is always 
 well concealed among rubbish, fallen trees, and ferns. The 
 eggs are some .68X-51, and have been found in this State 
 as late as the 17th of July. 
 
 Five inches long, the male of this species has the upper 
 parts of a fine olive-green; head, a fine slate-color; throat 
 and breast, black, crossed by delicate concentric lines of 
 slate, caused by a fine fringe of that color on the tips of the 
 feathers, making the dark spot look something like black 
 crape, whence the common name ; the under parts, bright 
 yellow; the female is similar, with the dark patch on the 
 breast almost obliterated.* 
 
 Wintering in the farthest part of Central America, and 
 even in South America, this bird goes north, in the migra- 
 tions, to the British Provinces, becoming rare, however, in 
 Nova Scotia. It breeds in New York, New England and 
 northward, arriving in Western New York about the middle 
 of May. 
 
 THE REDSTART. 
 
 A few rods off, in a thicker part of the woods, I hear a 
 bird-song, which at this time of year greets me through- 
 out every forest. It is the song of the Redstart (Setophaga 
 rutidlld)', and, except that it resembles that of the Yellow 
 Warbler, I can compare it to no sound so well as to that of 
 a circular tin-whistle with a hole through the center, which, 
 when held between the lips and teeth and the breath is al- 
 ternately drawn in and blown out, makes a noise with which 
 every one is familiar. Simple as is this comparison, to my 
 ear the song is decidedly pleasing. There is not a little 
 
 * The female of one pair of these birds, taken along with the nest by Mr. Bruce, has 
 the white eye-lids, supposed to differentiate Macgillivray's Warbler of the Rocky Mount- 
 ains and the Pacific Coast as a species, thus suggesting the propriety of regarding the 
 latter as a mere variety of the former. 
 
THE REDSTART. 373 
 
 variety in the whistling tones, and the theme is always well 
 modulated. Like all bird-songs, it contains immeasurably 
 more than anything to which it can be likened. 
 
 A view of this bird is even more gratifying than his song. 
 Something more than 5 inches long, the male is black, sides 
 of the breast, flanks, patches in the wing, and more than 
 the basal half of the tail feathers, except a few in the cen- 
 ter, reddish-orange, or flame-color; under parts from the 
 breast down, white. The female is olivaceous-slate, the 
 markings being bright yellow where the male has the flame- 
 color. Though resembling the Warblers in almost every 
 particular, the bill of the Redstart, in its flat, triangular 
 shape, with notch and hook at the end of the upper mandible 
 and its surrounding bristles, is like that of the Flycatchers. 
 Its habit, too, in taking food, suggests a similar relation. 
 
 Among the bright foliage of this luxuriant month, he is 
 an object of uncommon beauty. How his glossy black sets 
 off his fiery orange markings as he flits from point to 
 point, spreading his tail with a jerking motion, and assum- 
 ing a great variety of attitudes in rapid succession as he 
 hunts his prey. 
 
 The sharp chipping notes, mixed in with the varied com- 
 binations of his song, remind me that on the 23d of May, 
 about a week ago, I saw a female building her nest. As a 
 rule among all species of birds, the construction of the nest 
 is the work of the female. The male is the musician, the 
 female the architect. How diligent was this little Redstart 
 in the enterprise. Every few minutes she returned, her 
 mouth full of materials, which she arranged in the most ex- 
 pert manner. The outside completed, she would pitch into 
 the nest to adjust the lining, and turning round and round, 
 pressing her breast against one side and manipulating the 
 other with her feet, a wonderful symmetry and perfection 
 
374 THE INDIGO BIRD. 
 
 was secured in a short time. What human skill and patience 
 could ever construct an object like this ? Placed in a crotch 
 near the top of a young tree or sapling, sometimes between 
 nearly upright limbs and the trunk, anywhere from 6 to 20 
 feet high, it is compactly woven of fine fibrous materials, 
 fitted together and often ornamented with vegetable down 
 or cottony substances, not infrequently intermixed with the 
 scales of leaf-buds, and lined with the finest of bark and 
 grass-fibers. 
 
 I have before me a nest, externally much taller than 
 usual, since it contains two Cow-bird's eggs, successively 
 deposited, and built out of sight at different depths, some- 
 thing like the Yellow Warbler's nest described by Wilson. 
 It also has several feathers, of some small bird's tail, stuck 
 obliquely about half-way into the rim. The eggs, commonly 
 4, averaging about .65 x -50, are white, more or less specked 
 or spotted all over, but chiefly around the large end, with 
 reddish-brown and lilac. 
 
 Wintering in the tropics, the Redstart arrives here on the 
 first days of May. It is common in Eastern North America, 
 generally breeding northward. I found it very common in 
 the latitudes of Manitoulin Island and Nova Scotia. 
 
 THE INDIGO BIRD. 
 
 As I reach a more open part of the woods, seeming almost 
 like a thicket, I get down on hands and knees in a black- 
 berry tangle, to explore its mysteries; and at once espy a 
 bird's nest, built in the declined stems, and sheltered by the 
 thickly-matted tops. At the first glimpse of it, the sitting 
 bird drops down out of sight and skulks off; and as there is 
 so often no certainty in identifying a nest without the bird, 
 I lie down in this miniature arbor, and await her return. 
 Very soon I have a number of calls. A fine male of the 
 
THE INDIGO BIRD. 375 
 
 Mourning Warbler hops in very gracefully, scans me 
 thoroughly, and leaves, without salutation, remarks upon 
 the weather, or any expression of opinion whatever. Next 
 comes a Yellow-backed Blue Warbler, equally curious and 
 nervous in his movements, and perfectly reticent. Then a 
 Song Sparrow, which, ever since my approach has been keep- 
 ing up a constant racket, to the great alarm of the whole 
 neighborhood, comes within a few feet of me, scolding and 
 jerking his tail in a very unamiable manner. Like certain 
 individuals of another species, he prolongs his call and his 
 loquacity far beyond^ my pleasure. At length all is quiet, 
 and the owner of the nest appears. It is the female Indigo 
 Bird. A little smaller than a Canary, but almost precisely of 
 the same form and structure, she is of a plain brown, lighter 
 underneath, and dusky on the wings and tail. A fine voiced 
 male, too, is singing near by, which is probably her mate, 
 all unconscious of the peril of his family. His song is quite 
 unique, and therefore easily recognized when once well 
 noted. A sort of hurried warble, quite fluent, and yet 
 seeming to stick in the throat a little, this melody is one of 
 the most common in thickets, along the edges of forests, 
 and about the borders of swamps. Its tones are musical, 
 being loud at first, but growing faint at the last, as if the 
 singer were exhausting his lungs; and it is as likely to be 
 heard in the heat of noon as in the cool of the early morn- 
 ing. 
 
 The mature male, some 5.75 long, is blue, shading into 
 dark indigo about the head, and tinged with greenish on 
 the back; wings and tail black, edged with blue. This bird 
 is generally finer in the bush, however, than in the hand. 
 As the male requires several years to come to maturity, 
 many are spotted, by the mixing in of dull brown or gray 
 feathers, and so, on examination, appear quite shabby. 
 
376 THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 Thus assured as to its identity, I examine the nest. Sev- 
 eral firm, dried leaves are hung hammock-like to the 
 branches of a forked stem of the blackberry bush, then a 
 sort of bedding of skeleton-leaves being added, the rather 
 thick wall of the nest is of fine rootlets and dried grasses, 
 closely laid, and the lining is of fine bark-fibers and horse- 
 hair. Another nest in the vicinity is placed in a low bush, 
 and is similarly made, except that it is heavily ornamented 
 with the bud-scales and dried staminate blossoms of the 
 beech, and made hoary with webby material of various 
 kinds; the lining, too, is of fine dried grasses and a large 
 quantity of black horse-hair. The eggs, three or four, some 
 .Y5X.55 of an inch, are white, generally more or less trans- 
 lucent, and slightly tinged with blue said to be sometimes 
 specked truly beautiful, especially when laid on a thick 
 lining of black horse-hair. These birds are very uneasy and 
 emit a loud and peculiar chink when the nest is approached. 
 The species ranks with the Sparrows, and is called, in 
 science, Cyanospiza cyanea. "Habitat, eastern Province of 
 the United States north to Canada and Maine, west to 
 Kansas and Indian Territory, south through Texas to 
 Mexico and Central America, where it winters. Breeds 
 throughout most of its United States habitat, from Texas to 
 Canada." (Coues.) 
 
 THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 From a group of tall trees, there comes a bird-voice, 
 which I find most imperfectly described in the books, namely, 
 that of the Great Crested Flycatcher (Myiar chits crinitus). 
 Its most common note, tweep though in a loud, spirited, 
 whistling tone, given with a peculiar emphasis, and ab- 
 ruptly closed is by no means a harsh squeak, as Wilson and 
 Audubon say, but, as a mere note, is decidedly rich and 
 
THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 377 
 
 agreeable, calling forth a fine woodland echo, and impress- 
 ing one with the animation, courage and bravery of the 
 bird. Scarcely less agreeable is his rapidly uttered twip^ 
 twip, twip, twip, twip, or even his guttural rattling call, equally 
 characteristic. Perched in the rather open top of a tall elm, 
 he appears to the best advantage in the full light of the 
 morning sun. Some 9 inches long, with the strongest out- 
 line of that peculiar form which always marks the Fly- 
 catcher ; standing in a spirited, upright attitude, with crest 
 erected, his upper parts are a fine greenish-olive, throat and 
 upper breast, ash; under parts sulphur-yellow; wings dusky, 
 edged with greenish- white; tail dusky; outer edge of the 
 primaries and under side of the tail, bright reddish-chest- 
 nut. His frequent jerk of the tail, as he sits, otherwise mo- 
 tionless, for some time on the branch, cutting an occasional 
 semicircle in quest of his passing prey, as well as his struct- 
 ure and generally pugnacious disposition all declare his 
 character as a Flycatcher. This bird is so common in our 
 forests that his notes seem almost identified with the sum- 
 mer landscape. 
 
 Observing that the greater part of the top of a tall elm 
 in his vicinity is dead, I suspect a nest in some hollow of a 
 broken branch, and putting on my climbers, ascend to the 
 region of dead limbs. I have looked about me pretty thor- 
 oughly without success, and am about to descend, when I 
 notice, some distance .out from me, a broken limb about six 
 inches in diameter, and stretching myself along its length, 
 ten or twelve inches within its hollow end, I look into the 
 nest, which contains 5 eggs. Jamming my hand down the 
 passage with much difficulty, I secure the eggs one by one, 
 packing them in leaves in the crown of my hat, and pocket 
 the lining of the nest. So much, so good. Now I begin to 
 descend, quite elated over my success. I get about half- 
 
378 THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER. 
 
 way down the perilous height, when lo, some un- 
 friendly bough knocks off my hat, and with a very un- 
 pleasant sensation somewhere about my left side, I note the 
 unlucky curves it makes adown the trunk. All my high 
 satisfaction over my achievement is sinking to the soles of 
 my boots, when, as good luck will have it, the hat closes up 
 against the trunk, supported by an almost upright limb, 
 thus making the entire contents secure. As suddenly my 
 contentment comes back, and in a few moments, seated on 
 terra firma, I examine my treasures. First the lining of the 
 nest. Dried leaves, fibers of bark, wool, hair, feathers, the 
 end of a squirrel's tail, and true to the never-failing custom 
 of this bird, cast-off snake 's skin. I found a nest in a hollow 
 limb in an old orchard a few days since, with similar nest 
 linings the material, however, consisting largely of stubble, 
 dried grasses, and pigs' bristles the different linings placed 
 in the nest from year to year, lying one on the other like so 
 many sauce-plates in a pile, thus showing the number of 
 successive years the place had been occupied. Every lining 
 had the cast-off snake's skin. The eggs, generally 5, some 
 1.00 x .?5, are strongly differentiated in color. The ground- 
 color being dark cream or buff, scratched and brushed in 
 every direction, but more particularly lengthwise, as if with 
 a pen or fine brush, with a rich brown and lilac. Sometimes 
 the markings are thicker on the large end, but generally 
 they extend equally all over, not infrequently running into 
 blotches. 
 
 Wintering on the Florida Keys and in the West Indies, 
 this bird arrives in Western New York the first week in 
 May. Common, more especially to the woods, occasionally 
 residing in the orchard, it extends sparingly into New 
 England, rarely beyond the Connecticut Valley, west 
 to Eastern Kansas, northwestward to Cypress Hills in 
 
THE FIELD SPARROW. 379 
 
 British America, and breeds throughout the Eastern United 
 States. 
 
 The local distribution of birds is very interesting. Each 
 kind of locality has its own peculiar species. Around our 
 residences, and in the orchard, we find a certain group the 
 Chipping Sparrow, the Purple Finch, the Kingbird, the 
 Phcebe, the Eave and Barn Swallows. In the open field we 
 have another group the Meadow Lark, the Horned Lark, 
 the Bay-winged Sparrow, the Bobolink ; in the thickets, yet 
 another group the Field, or, more properly, the Bush Spar- 
 row, the Indigo Bird, the Catbird, the Yellow Warbler ; 
 the forest birds the Thrushes, the greater part of the 
 Warblers and Flycatchersj and certain of the Fringillida 
 are quite strictly confined to their peculiar abodes; the 
 swamps afford a large variety, nowhere else to be found, 
 while, as every one knows, the water-birds are more or less 
 attached, by regular laws of distribution, to ponds, streams, 
 rivers, lakes, or to the ocean. In no way is the instinct of 
 birds more certainly made known than in the selection of 
 their local as well as their general habitat. 
 
 THE FIELD SPARROW. 
 
 As I approach a thicket a slashing, as it is called here 
 being a rough piece of ground where the forest has been 
 recently cut away and where the bushes have grown up, I 
 hear the peculiar song of the Field or Bush Sparrow (Spi- 
 zella pusilld]. The notes may be pronouced free-o, free-o, 
 free-o, free-o, free, free, free, free, fru, fru; the first four 
 loud, well prolonged, and on a higher key, while the re- 
 maining notes run rapidly to a lower pitch, growing softer 
 and weaker to the end, the last being barely perceptible at 
 a short distance. The song is quite constantly repeated at 
 
380 THE BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO. 
 
 short intervals, and has a rather melancholy, but soothing 
 and pleasing, effect, which sensitive natures readily recog- 
 nize, and do not easily forget. It is the homely pensive 
 poetry of the thicket that line of land where the culti- 
 vated beauty and fertility of the fields end and the solitude 
 and gloom of the forest begin. The bird is quite shy and 
 retiring, and therefore but little known. A little smaller 
 than the Chipping Sparrow, or some 5.00 inches long, and 
 therefore the smallest of all our Sparrows, it has the usual 
 colors and marking of that group over the back, lacking 
 the bright chestnut on the crown, so peculiar to the Chip- 
 ping and Tree Sparrows, and the striped crown and spotted 
 or streaked breast, either or both of which are common to 
 the rest of the Sparrows. It may therefore be readily 
 identified. 
 
 The nest, usually placed low in a little bush, sometimes 
 on the ground, is a frail, loose structure which one can look 
 through, mostly of dried grasses and rootlets, lined with 
 the finest of the grasses, fine shreds of bark from the grape- 
 vine, or horse-hair. The eggs, four or five, some .70X-50, 
 are white, sometimes with a slight tinge of greenish or 
 grayish, specked and spotted with a delicate, almost flesh- 
 colored red really pretty. 
 
 Wintering from the Carolinas southward, and breeding 
 from the same point northward, these birds reach Western 
 New York about the middle of April, and deposit their 
 eggs late in May or early in June. Becoming rare already 
 in Northern New England, it extends somewhat into the 
 British Provinces. 
 
 THE BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO. 
 
 As I pass along, through the thickets, I hear the well- 
 defined notes of the Black-billed Cuckoo chou, cJiou, chou, 
 
THE BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO. 331 
 
 chou, and cuckoo, koo, koo, koo, koo, koo, and cuek-chou-ou, by no 
 means musical, but quite pleasing as an odd variety. In a 
 moment he glides by me. What a straightforward, regular, 
 noiseless and graceful flight! 
 
 It is difficult to get a satisfactory view of this bird amidst 
 our thick summer foliage. He is so noiseless as he, " still 
 hiding, further onward wooes you;" and if he stand stock- 
 still, with head a little on one side, his color is so nearly like 
 that of the bark of the undergrowth, or is such a com- 
 promise between that and the foliage, as to render him ex- 
 ceedingly obscure. No doubt he is very happy in his way, 
 but he does indeed seem "as solitary and joyless as the most 
 veritable anchorite." 
 
 I creep up to the bush in which he lit, and find a nest, if 
 indeed so slight and rude a structure be worthy of the 
 name a few twigs laid criss-cross, bits of dried fern, and a 
 few downy catkins of the willow on top how does the bird 
 get off and on, and keep the eggs and young on this bit of 
 trash? The eggs, some 1.12 x -83, are elliptical, and of a 
 beautiful clear or somewhat clouded light green. Arriving 
 after the middle of May, this bird seems to begin incubation 
 almost at once. The callow young are indeed queer-look- 
 ing objects; their skin, which is black as soot, is sparsely set 
 with white thread-like down. The eggs appear to be laid 
 sometimes at very considerable intervals, so that the same 
 nest may contain the young eggs partly incubated, and 
 others fresh. 
 
 Nearly a foot in length, of which length the oblongly 
 rounded tail constitutes nearly one-half, the upper parts 
 are an elegant, glossy bronze-brown ; tail feathers, except the 
 two central, tipped with white, which joins the main color 
 in a black margin; bill and feet black, eye-lids vermilion, 
 under parts white. Male and female are alike. The young 
 
382 THE YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO. 
 
 have the feathers above, tipped with white, and the white 
 underneath grayish. Feeding partly on small fruits, this 
 species is chiefly insectivorous. 
 
 This Cuckoo (Coccyzus erythrophthalmus), abundant in this 
 locality, is a great traveler. Breeding from the Southern 
 States northward even to Labrador, though he may winter 
 in Florida, he sometimes goes even to the valley of the 
 Amazon. As a vagrant, he has been found in Europe. 
 
 THE YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO. 
 
 The Yellow-billed Cuckoo (Coccyzus americanus] is about 
 the size and form of the Black-billed; and, with the exception 
 of its yellow under mandible, cinnamon edging on the wings 
 and wholly black and white outer tail feathers, is precisely 
 like it in color, habit and vocal performance. It is not very 
 numerous here. Mr. Ringueberg occasionally finds the nest 
 in the vicinity of Lockport, and almost every observer 
 shoots one now and then. The nest is, if possible, even 
 slighter than that of the former species, being, in one case 
 at least, merely a "cotton rag, which was firmly caught in 
 the thorns of a barberry bush." (Minot.) The eggs are a 
 little longer, larger and lighter green; the notes are generally 
 regarded as harsher. The intervals between the depositing 
 of its several eggs are remarkable. Audubon once saw a 
 nest, containing different grades, from young ones ready to 
 fly to eggs perfectly fresh; and ascertained that eleven young 
 cuckoos had been successfully raised from a single nest in 
 the vicinity. It would seem that the Cuckoo is especially 
 noisy during meteorological changes, hence it is called, 
 quite commonly, the " Rain Crow." 
 
 The Yellow-bill is a more southern and western bird than 
 the Black-bill, breeding throughout the United States, but 
 becoming rare, or absent entirely, as we approach our north- 
 
THE NIGHT HA WK. 383 
 
 ern limits. It is also rare on the Pacific Coast. Though 
 said to winter in Florida, it goes even to Buenos Ayres in its 
 migrations, and has accidentally strayed to Europe. 
 
 Both our Cuckoos are somewhat nocturnal in their habits. 
 I have heard the loud notes of the Black-bill in the orchard, 
 a few rods from my study window, at a very late hour of 
 the night. The American Cuckoo is not usually parasitic, 
 after the manner of its European congener. 
 
 The Mangrove Cuckoo (Coccyzus semiculus), found in 
 Florida and the West Indies, is a little smaller than the 
 above species, and similar in its marking and coloration 
 to the Yellow-billed Cuckoo, except that its lower mandible 
 is pale orange-brown, and its outer tail feathers are not 
 tipped with white. 
 
 THE NIGHT HAWK. 
 
 As I emerge from the thicket into the open pasture, a so- 
 called Night Hawk (Chordeiles virginianus) flies up, almost 
 from under my feet, and moving in an irregular, zigzag 
 manner, alights lengthwise on the fence. In this near prox- 
 imity, both in flight and in repose, he is a weird looking 
 object. His odd way of perching lengthwise is supposed 
 to be an accommodation to his feet and legs, which would 
 seem too small and weak to support him crosswise. As 
 he starts from the ground and darts this way and that, as if 
 somewhat confused, the large, clear white markings of his 
 wings and tail are very conspicuous, and sharply defined 
 by the dark mottling of his general color. By no means 
 abundant in this locality, the Night Hawk may be found 
 from early in May till early in autumn, about the low 
 grounds north of the Ridge. In Northern New England 
 and in the British Provinces it is very abundant, and be- 
 comes a most conspicuous object in the summer landscape. 
 Mr. Samuels reports it so numerous at a place in Maine, 
 
384 THE NIGHT HA WK. 
 
 called Wilson's Mills, that " in the space of every four or five 
 rods, a female was sitting on her eggs." Indeed, one of the 
 most vivid impressions received in many parts of that north- 
 ern latitude, on a summer's evening, is that of the loud 
 peeping and booming of vast numbers of these birds. This 
 evening flight is really fine. The regular beat of the long 
 pointed wings, now faster, now slower, the bird mounting a 
 little higher, and uttering its characteristic/^ with each 
 accelerated beating of the wings, is somewhat like that of 
 our smaller Hawks, the Sharp-shinned, for instance ; while 
 the graceful tipping of the body from side to side, as it 
 moves in a continued series of curves, affords a still further 
 resemblance. Notwithstanding this analogy to Hawks in 
 flight, however, the Night Hawk in structural affinity is no 
 Hawk at all, but a sort of crepuscular Swift, flying earlier 
 indeed in cloudy weather, and sometimes even in the bright- 
 est sunshine, but generally retiring during all the fore and 
 middle part of sunny days. 
 
 Its flight is generally rapid and high, sometimes seeming 
 to be almost among the clouds, where its frequent motions in 
 the capture of insects show how elevated a part, at least, of 
 the entomological world is. The most characteristic act in 
 the flight of the male is his loud and indescribable boom- 
 ing, as he drops head foremost from his more or less ele- 
 vated position, and, with stiffened wings, the tips pointing 
 downward, cuts a long, abrupt curve. This sound, which 
 Wilson compared to " that produced by blowing strongly 
 into the bunghole of an empty hogshead," he thought was 
 caused " by the sudden expansion of his capacious mouth 
 while passing through the air." Audubon thought it was 
 somehow produced by the wings. The latter would seem 
 to be the more probable conjecture, as one can always see 
 a change in the wings as the noise is going on. The exact 
 
THE NIGHT HA WK. 385 
 
 manner of producing the sound, however, we shall never 
 know till some ethereal personage can take his point of ob- 
 servation high in air, and, without alarming the bird, note 
 exactly its method. The booming is mostly confined to 
 the breeding season, though it is sometimes heard in 
 autumn. 
 
 These birds do not confine themselves to insect-food ob- 
 tained in the upper air, but also search the ground. Wilson 
 shot them on the 14th of August, with their stomachs al- 
 most exclusively filled with crickets. From one of them 
 he took " nearly a common snuff-box full of these insects, 
 all seemingly fresh swallowed." I have also good evidence 
 that in the more northern localities, they regale themselves 
 on ripe currants. 
 
 Nine inches long, the Night Hawk is black or dusky 
 above, variously mottled with brown and brownish-white, 
 with narrow black and whitish rings below, the male having 
 white markings in the wings and forked tail, and a rather 
 large triangular or crescent-shaped white spot on the breast, 
 the female having smaller white markings in the wings only, 
 and a reddish mark on the breast. 
 
 The two eggs of the Night Hawk, placed on the ground 
 in some open pasture or thicket a burnt spot seems pref- 
 erable, as harmonizing best with the color, alike of the eggs 
 and of the bird without a nest sometimes on the flat roof 
 of a house in a city, are about 1.25X-88, elliptical, the 
 ground of grayish or creamy-white, being thickly specked 
 and spotted all over with a greenish-brown and several shades 
 of lilac. The eggs are generally laid early in June, but I 
 have seen the young, not yet fully fledged, as late as July 
 21st, thus indicating, perhaps a second brood. 
 
 The summer range of this bird is from Central North 
 America to Hudson's Bay, while its winter migrations may 
 25 
 
386 THE WHIPPOORWILL. 
 
 extend to the West India Islands and Brazil. It does not 
 winter within the Union. 
 
 THE WHIPPOORWILL. 
 
 The gorgeous hues of sunset have faded into the deep 
 dusk of twilight. I have been listening to a grand concert 
 at this close of day, in and around a large tract of wood- 
 land on these low grounds north of the Ridge. As the 
 songs of Thrushes, Warblers and Finches die out, the still- 
 ness is broken by a loud call, commonly described as 
 "Whip-poor-will" but which to my ear sounds more like the 
 syllables, chick-koo-rhee. The call is rapidly and earnestly 
 repeated a number of times, the first syllable, but more 
 especially the last, being emphasized. The vocal perform- 
 ance is kept up at intervals during the night, and starts up 
 afresh about day-break. 
 
 Strictly local in its distribution, and partial to swamps 
 and low lands, the Whippoorwill (Antrostomus vociferus] 
 must be numerous here, for I can detect its weird call in 
 some half-dozen directions about the thicket, and in the 
 edge of the woods which it skirts. I creep stealthily 
 in this direction and that, as nearly as I can locate the 
 sound, hoping to get a glimpse of this strange bird of the 
 night, before daylight is entirely gone. I seem to hear him 
 exactly in that red osier bush covered with its snowy blos- 
 soms, and strain my eyes to define his form, but in vain. 
 I move up a little closer, but presently the sound ceases at 
 that point, and starts up somewhere else. Thus I am tan- 
 talized, like one following the will-tf-the-whisp. I spend days 
 in succession about this spot, but cannot get the first glimpse 
 of the bird, nor any sound of it, except at night. 
 
 Nine inches and a half long, the Whippoorwill bears so 
 strong a resemblance to the Night Hawk, that they were 
 
THE WHIPPOORWILL. 387 
 
 once supposed to be the same. The difference is mainly as 
 follows: The Whippoorwill is some half an inch longer, 
 has a rounded tail, whereas that of the Night Hawk is 
 forked, has a much longer and more pointed wing than the 
 latter, and has a plentiful supply of long bristles protrud- 
 ing from the inside of the mouth. " It lays on the ground, 
 in the woods, constructing no proper nest, and depositing 
 only two eggs. These are elliptical, nearly or quite equal 
 at both ends, about 1.25x0.85, and are curiously scratched 
 and mottled all over with brown surface markings and paler 
 purplish-gray shell colors upon a whitish ground. The egg 
 is quite variable in amount of intensity of coloration, some 
 specimens being heavily marbled, while others appear as 
 if faded or bleached, from indistinctness of the tracery." 
 (Coues.) 
 
 This sly bird of the night inhabits Eastern North Amer- 
 ica generally up to 50, wintering from the Gulf Coast south- 
 ward, and breeding in most of its summer range. 
 
 Chuck-will's-widow (Antrostomus carolinensis) is a closely 
 allied member, along with the Night Hawk and Whippoor- 
 will, of the CapHmulgtdce family, and is found in the South- 
 ern States generally. It is similar to its relatives just de- 
 scribed in color and general appearance, but is nearly twice 
 as large. 
 
 Our Night Hawk, Whippoorwill and Chuck-will's-widow, 
 belong to the Caprimulgidce. family, which, in its broadest 
 sense, includes quite a variety of structural peculiarities 
 and is represented throughout the world, particularly in 
 South America; but, in the more restricted sense of the 
 sub-family, Caprimulgina^ is well represented by our two 
 genera, Antrostoimis and Chordeiles. It is this latter group, 
 therefore, which we shall especially notice. As we have 
 observed, they are, for the most part, creatures of the 
 
388 THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 
 
 twilight and of the night, and as such, to some extent, re- 
 semble the Owls; as in the size and shape of the head the 
 very diminutive and weak bill excepted in the soft, loose 
 texture, and sombre colors of the plumage, and in nocturnal 
 habits; while zoologically, particularly in the shape of the 
 wing and mouth, they are more closely allied to the Swifts. 
 Thus combining crepuscular and nocturnal habits with 
 great swiftness of flight, and a bat-like quickness in their 
 evolutions, as also a most capacious mouth, extending to the 
 sides of the head and in most cases thickly supplied with 
 long, stiff bristles, these Night Swallows or Swifts are 
 especially adapted, as they " quarter the air " in every 
 direction, to the destruction of nocturnal insects. From 
 an erroneous notion in respect to the habits of the European 
 representative of this class of birds, the English call it 
 " Goatsucker," in accordance with its old Latinized Greek 
 name, Caprimulgus. The French, however, call it by a name, 
 which means wind-swallower, and also by another, which 
 means flying toad. 
 
 Thus from some fact or resemblance, fancied or real, the 
 various objects in natural history are made to bear names, 
 which, both in common and scientific nomenclature, sig- 
 nalize them, either truly or falsely, for many generations at 
 least, and perhaps through all time. 
 
 THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 
 
 Returning home near night, by way of the Ridge, just as 
 a severe rain-storm is setting in, I come to the pass of 
 Oak Orchard Creek. Here is a large stone building 
 which was once a distillery. Around the top of the enor- 
 mous brick chimney, which towers up from this building, is 
 an immense cloud of many hundreds, perhaps thousands, 
 of Chimney Swifts (Chatura pelagicd). They are whirling 
 
THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 389 
 
 and gyrating in swift evolutions, the whole body moving 
 in the same direction like a feathered whirlpool, their 
 wings beating with astonishing rapidity, and the volume of 
 their sharp twitter being almost deafening. As the black 
 cloud keeps whirling, becoming more dense as it nears the 
 chimney-top, every few minutes a section of the great host 
 drops into it. I watch them till by far the greater number 
 have thus disappeared. This is a common scene about the old 
 distillery, and may occur from the time of the arrival of 
 these birds, about the last of April or the first of May, till 
 the time of their departure in September. Thinking that 
 this chimney must be a breeding place, I kept watch of it 
 from an opening below, which gave a full view of the w r hole 
 interior, but not a nest could I at any time detect. Evi- 
 dently it was only a grand place of rendezvous, such as 
 these birds occasionally discover in various parts of our coun- 
 try. Both Wilson and Audubon cite instances of immense 
 numbers, even millions, resorting to some large hollow tree 
 as a lodging place, and issuing from it at the break of 
 day, in clouds, making a noise like thunder. 
 
 This Swift was formerly called a Swallow, on account of 
 certain general resemblances. In its more important details 
 of affinity, however, it is now regarded by ornithologists 
 as coming between the Whippoorwills, and the Hum- 
 mingbirds. This arrangement in classification may show 
 the general reader how wide and deep are the gaps between 
 some of the families of our birds. 
 
 As the chimney of the old distillery continues to be the 
 rendezvous of the Swifts throughout the season, although 
 in diminished numbers during the time of nidification, I con- 
 clude that it is a place of general resort for the males, and also, 
 perhaps, for such females as are not engaged in reproduction. 
 This view, I find, accords with that of ornithologists in general. 
 
390 THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 
 
 In the uncultivated condition of the country, this bird 
 placed its nest in a hollow tree, but, being one of those 
 birds which have taken advantage of the conveniences of 
 civilization, it now resorts to the chimney, where, though 
 perhaps somewhat discommoded by soot and occasionally 
 by smoke, it is the freest possibly from all its enemies. 
 Look in, through the stove-pipe hole of that large, old-fash- 
 ioned chimney, and behold that cute little basket of a nest! 
 About the size of one-half of an ordinary sauce-dish, it 
 seems tipped up against its sooty wall, and holds long, 
 translucent white eggs (.80X-48), of which the fresh yolks 
 appear most elegant through the shell, and close up to it. 
 How pretty they look on those freshly-broken twigs, severed 
 from the tree by the bird in flight, and glued together with 
 saliva! Scarcely could they have a finer setting than is 
 afforded by that exquisite bit of rustic architecture, remind- 
 ing us, in the midst of our artificial civilization, of the free 
 elegance of primeval life. 
 
 Never shall I forget how I was startled from a sound 
 sleep, one black night of a fearful thunder-storm, by a nest 
 of full-grown Swifts which had fallen to the bottom of a 
 bracket-chimney, and were squalling and beating their 
 wings against the wall-paper, stretched like a drum-head 
 across a stove-pipe hole. It sounded like a flock of winged 
 imps in the central space of the room. 
 
 "The glue-like substance," constituting so important a 
 part in the nest-structure, is a viscid matter secreted by 
 glands in each side of the head of the bird and mixed with 
 its saliva. This is a common product of the Swifts, and is 
 especially noted in the case of the edible nest of the Sea 
 Swallow of the Malay archipelago. " It gathers from the coral 
 rocks of the sea a glutinous weed or marine fuscus, which it 
 swallows and afterward disgorges, and then applies this 
 
THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 391 
 
 vomit with its plastic bill to the sides of deep caverns, both 
 inland and on the seacoast, to form its nest. When com- 
 plete the nest is a hollow hemisphere, of the dimensions of 
 an ordinary coffee-cup. When fresh made it is of waxy 
 whiteness, and is then esteemed most valuable." This in- 
 sipid thing of Chinese soups is gathered, at a fearful peril 
 of life, from the caves of the coast of India, and sold as a 
 government monopoly, sometimes at the enormous price of 
 $35 per pound, or even twice its weight in silver. 
 
 But to return from this digression; wherever I go, one of 
 the most distinctive associations of the early days of spring 
 is the Chimney Swift. Flying so high, that he appears like 
 one of the smallest of birds, the short, quick beat of his wings 
 and his sharp tsip, tsip, tsip, tsip, so rapidly uttered, readily 
 distinguish him. On handling him, you observe that his 
 tail, which appeared so short when in flight, has the quill of 
 each feather extended beyond the web, in the form of a 
 sharp spine. This aids him in alighting on the wall. The 
 Swifts are supposed to fly at the rate of a thousand miles 
 in twenty-four hours. They seem to spend nearly the 
 entire day on the wing, and when caring for their young, 
 often spend a great part of the night in bringing them 
 food. 
 
 Some 5.35 long, the Chimney Swift is brownish-black, 
 lighter on the throat. Wintering south of the United States, 
 and residing in summer throughout Eastern North America 
 from the Southern States northward, it reaches Western 
 New York the first week in May, and leaves early in October. 
 
 LAKE VIEW. 
 
 Oak Orchard Creek is the principal water-course of 
 Orleans County, N. Y. Rising in Tonawanda Swamp, 
 which is partly in Genesee County, it makes a curve of 
 
392 THE LONG-BILLED MARSH WREN. 
 
 nearly a half circle in the southwestern part of Orleans 
 County, and enters Lake Ontario a little east of the center 
 of the shore line which bounds the county on the north. 
 The stream is beautiful, especially at its mouth, which is 
 called Lake View. A drive along its gracefully curving 
 banks, from the Ridge to the lake, is a never-failing source 
 of pleasure. Some forty or fifty feet high, these banks may 
 be abrupt walls of dark-red shaly sand-stone, not infre- 
 quently streaked with bright green, sometimes entirely 
 bare, but more frequently ornamented with a great variety 
 of beautiful vines and shrubbery; or they may be a fine 
 system of river-terraces, showing the different breadths of 
 the stream at certain periods of the later ages of geological 
 history. 
 
 THE LONG-BILLED MARSH WREN. 
 
 In the sedges and cat-tails, which border the placid cur- 
 rent as it approaches the lake, are the breeding haunts of 
 quite a group of birds which frequent the water and its 
 vicinity in this locality. As one glides along these waters 
 in a light skiff, on a fine June morning, admiring the trees, 
 shrubs, vines and wild flowers which adorn the graceful curves 
 of the bluff on either side, from out the sedges and cat-tails 
 there comes the sharp metallic twitter of the Long-billed 
 Marsh Wren (Telmatodytes palustris). You strain your eyes 
 to get a glimpse of the utterer of these weird notes, but he 
 is completely concealed in the tall, thick growths, and 
 dodges about so mysteriously that you can scarcely keep 
 the direction of the sounds. There! Now he is in plain 
 sight, clinging sidewise to that huge cat-tail overtopped by 
 its candle-shaped blossom. What a wee bit of a bird he is, 
 seeming scarcely larger than the end of one's thumb, 
 though, from the tip of the bill to the extremity of the tail, 
 he measures some five inches or more; but the ^iead is so 
 
THE LONG-BILLED MARSH WREN. 393 
 
 thrown up, and the tail so thrust forward, that he assumes 
 almost the shape of an irregular ring or triangle, and so 
 quite deceives one as to the length of his slender body. 
 Brown above, shading almost into black on the crown and 
 middle of the back; tail, barred; under parts, line over the 
 eye, and streaks on the back, white; sides, brownish he 
 bears a strong resemblance to the rest of the Wrens, but is 
 readily distinguishable by his white breast. His flight is 
 short, and every motion is exceedingly quick and nervous. 
 
 In the tall bleached sedges of the previous year, this Wren 
 is very easily seen in May or early in June. Then he is 
 especially lively, hanging sidewise to the smooth perpen- 
 dicular culms, or grasping two opposite ones, one in each 
 wiry foot, his legs stretched apart in a horizontal line; or 
 tossing himself up several feet into the air, with head and 
 tail up, he will drop down, with a light and graceful flut- 
 ter, making his very best attempt at a song as he thus de- 
 scribes an abrupt curve. That song begins with a rather 
 harsh screeping note, followed by a rattling twitter, and 
 ends in a note very much like that with which it began. 
 
 Pulling the boat somewhat into the sedges, we wade among 
 them half way to the knees in water. Here is the nest! 
 About the size of a common cocoanut, it is woven and in- 
 terlaced by the dried and discolored leaves of the sedges 
 and marsh-grass, intermixed with vegetable down, and 
 sometimes with an abundance of green moss, so as to make 
 the walls quite thick and firm, and is lined with finer mate- 
 rials perhaps the down from a vacated Duck's nest in the 
 neighborhood, or the feathers of a Coot devoured by the 
 Marsh Hawk; it has a hole in the side, so beset with down 
 as almost to close it up the artistic structure being hung 
 to the green or dried sedges or marsh-grass only a few 
 inches, or sometimes three or four feet from the water. These 
 
394 THE BITTERN. 
 
 nests are often found in large numbers in the same locality, 
 the greater part of them being unoccupied. "This has 
 occasioned the surmise that more nests are built than are 
 actually used; the idea being that the nervous, energetic 
 little creatures keep on building, while the females are incu- 
 bating, to amuse themselves, or because they have nothing 
 particular to do and cannot keep still." (Coues.) It has 
 been well suggested, however, that the durability of the 
 old nests may largely account for the many unoccupied 
 tenements. The eggs, some five or six, about .60X-45, are 
 a reddish or chocolate-brown, with still darker brown spots 
 and specks clouded and wreathed around the large end. 
 The eggs are laid late in May or early in June, and again 
 late in July. 
 
 The food of these birds consists of such insects as inhabit 
 their aquatic haunts, and "diminutive mollusks." "Win- 
 tering along our southern borders and southward," their 
 breeding habitat is from the Southern States to Massachu- 
 setts. They are not reported from Northern New England, 
 nor did I see any in the many marshes of the Manitoulin 
 Islands. Reaching Western New York in May, they leave 
 late in September or in October. 
 
 THE BITTERN. 
 
 Standing still in the border of the sedges, and surveying 
 a large space of lily-pods, I spy a Bittern (Botaurus minor]. 
 Standing stock-still in a clump of cat-tails, with body, head 
 and neck in a nearly perpendicular position, he is almost 
 as straight as a stake, and perfectly motionless. In this atti- 
 tude he continues for many minutes, no doubt enjoying one 
 of those contemplative turns of mind, or profound reveries, 
 for which his shady and silent ways have given him such a 
 reputation. His present attitude is scarcely more common 
 
THE BITTERN. 395 
 
 to him, however, than a certain other in which he is often 
 figured in portraits that of standing on one foot, the other 
 being drawn up under him, and his neck so bent or folded that 
 his head rests upon his breast, his eyes being nearly closed 
 and his whole air that of drowsy .thoughtfulness. Tired of 
 my own position, and finding that of the Bittern rather 
 tedious, I clap my hands, when, with a sudden spring and a 
 hoarse haurk, he rises to a slow lumbering flight, his wings 
 beating heavily and his long legs dangling awkwardly be- 
 hind. Flapping along just above the cat-tails, he drops 
 down out of sight a few rods off. When he rises high, his 
 flight is quick and graceful, and bears quite a resemblance 
 to that of a Hawk. His form is that of the Heron tribe, 
 but his color is peculiar to himself and his near European 
 relative. About 27 inches long and about 45 in extent of 
 wings, the male a little larger than the female, the top of 
 the head is brown, the long, loose feathers falling from the 
 back of the head, over the upper part of the neck, being 
 yellowish-brown; throat, white with a light brown streak 
 through the center; fore-neck, loose feathers on the breast, 
 and under parts,broadly streaked with reddish and yellowish- 
 brown; sides of the neck black; back, rich brown mixed 
 with black, and streaked with yellowish and grayish; wings, 
 rich dark brown, with coverts of light yellowish-brown; the 
 whole upper parts being delicately penciled with darker 
 shades; eyes, yellow. The general impression of the bird, 
 upon the eye, is that of a yellowish-brown. The colors are 
 deeper in autumn than in spring, being enriched with red- 
 dish-brown shades. The young lack the deep black on the 
 sides of the neck. At any time the Bittern is very beautiful. 
 Shy and solitary, dwelling in reedy marshes and their vicinity, 
 he feeds on the smaller mollusks and crustaceans, frogs, 
 lizards, little fishes and snakes, and such insects as frequent 
 
396 THE BITTERN. 
 
 his watery abodes. Like the Herons in general, he prefers 
 the twilight and the night for his excursions, but may be 
 seen abroad at any time of day. 
 
 Though by no means as noisy as his European congener, 
 in the breeding season, especially morning and evening, the 
 male has a peculiar and startling vocal performance, which 
 once heard can never be mistaken. It may be at least sug- 
 gested by its names, Dunk-a-doo or Stake-driver, the former 
 word imitating the note, the latter naming an act which resem- 
 bles it in sound. Nuttall, the great interpreter of bird notes, 
 has rendered it by the syllables, pump-au-gah. I can recall 
 it by the syllables, ponk-ah-gong, or kunk-ah-whulnk. On St. 
 Clair Flats, where this bird breeds in great numbers, these 
 weird notes, sounding in every direction, are characteristic 
 of the evenings in spring and early summer. The stake- 
 driving begins about three or four o'clock in the afternoon, 
 continues on into the night, and the notes occur again dur- 
 ing the early hours of the morning. 
 
 As to the nidification of the Bittern, our early ornitholo- 
 gists, even Nuttall and Audubon, knew little or nothing, and 
 the latest authorities are by no means unanimous or satis- 
 factory; some affirming that it breeds in communities, others 
 that it nests singly, a pair to a bog; some that its nest is in 
 a bush or a tree, or in a tussock of grass; others that the 
 nest is always on the ground; while others still assert that 
 it lays its eggs on the ground without any nest whatever. I 
 took a nest the 7th of June, 1881, on Lacloche Island in the 
 northern part of Georgian Bay. A few rods from the water, 
 on a rather rocky rise of ground, and in the edge of a grove 
 of small white birches, it was placed on the ground among 
 weeds and ferns, and made of small sticks, coarse weed-stalks 
 and dried leaves; raised about two inches from the ground 
 and 12-14 inches across, it was perfectly flat and contained 
 
THE LEAST BITTERN. 397 
 
 three brownish-drab eggs, measuring 1.90-2.00 X 1.38-1.40, 
 pointed ovate; incubation being well begun. I found no 
 other nests or birds of the kind in the vicinity. In my 
 recent studies on St. Clair Flats, where the nests were very 
 common, I found some nests built of the dried leaves of the 
 cat-tails, placed on the water and anchored among the 
 sedges, after the manner of the Coots, while others consisted 
 merely of the tops of the marsh-grass matted and flattened 
 over the water, so slight and flat that one wondered how 
 they could retain the eggs and sustain the weight of the 
 bird. The nests were not found in community. The eggs, 
 generally four, sometimes five, some 1.95 x 1.39, are a brown- 
 ish or greenish-drab, generally quite dark, and always dis- 
 tinguishable from any other egg. The nest is well hidden 
 in the tall grass or sedges, and the bird, sitting with her bill 
 pointing almost straight up, is loth to rise, sometimes almost 
 allowing one to touch her. The long down, in patches on the 
 young, is brownish-yellow, obscurely streaked with brown, 
 and as it is quite long and plumose, standing straight up 
 on the head and back, the little creatures are odd 
 enough. 
 
 The Bittern ranges over all North America to 58 or 60, 
 breeding from the Middle States northward, and wintering 
 in the Southern States and beyond. Dr. Coues found it at 
 Washington in January. It breeds abundantly in some parts 
 of Maine. Reaching New York and Massachusetts in April, 
 it leaves in October. It is a good deal smaller than the 
 European Bittern, but bears quite a general resemblance to 
 it in color. 
 
 THE LEAST BITTERN. 
 
 I continue my rambles among the sedges. What is that 
 yonder, climbing up the cat-tails after the manner of a 
 Rail ? Having captured a moth, it settles back into the 
 
398 THE LEAST BITTERN. 
 
 shallow water again, and walks along sedately, throwing its 
 head forward at each step "as if about to thrust its sharp 
 bill into some substance." It is a Least Bittern (Ardetta 
 fxilis). About a foot long or more, wings only 4-5 inches, 
 the male, which is slightly crested, has the crown and back 
 glossy greenish-black; hind neck, greater wing-coverts, and 
 outer webs of secondaries, bright chestnut; lesser wing- 
 coverts and sides of the neck, brownish-yellow; fore-neck 
 and under parts, light-yellow or yellowish-white; eyes, bill, 
 and feet, yellow. The female has the crown and back brown 
 and the fore neck and breast streaked with brown and 
 brownish-yellow. Otherwise, she is like the male. Like the 
 Common Bittern, they have long feathers on the breast, but 
 do not have the long, narrow feathers on the back, after the 
 manner of the Herons. This is the diminutive or pigmy of 
 its race, having indeed the form of a Heron, but to some 
 extent the habits of a Rail. So narrowly can it compress 
 its body, that it has been made to walk between two books 
 set on edge, only an inch apart. On startling it I see that 
 its flight is similar to that of the Common Bittern, and like 
 the Herons in general, when it rises high for a long pull, it 
 folds its neck upon its breast and stretches its long legs out 
 straight behind. Like the rest of the Herons, too, its note 
 is a sort of qua, and its food such reptiles, insects and fishes 
 as are found in its habitat and come within its capacity. 
 It breeds rather commonly in the marshes of this locality, 
 generally nesting on some pile of matted sedges, but some- 
 times tying its nest in a bush or clump of cat-tails or sedges, 
 some 18 inches or more from the ground. The nest is flat- 
 tish and rather roughly laid of sedges, dried grasses and 
 debris, containing from three to five eggs, elliptical, about 
 1.22 x 1-93, white, delicately tinged with green. The eggs 
 may be found late in May or early in June, and there is very 
 
THE VIRGINIA RAIL. 399 
 
 good evidence that in some cases, at least, a second brood 
 occurs about midsummer. 
 
 Resident in the extreme Southern States, this bird breeds 
 from thence northward. 
 
 THE VIRGINIA RAIL. 
 
 Reaching a new territory of the sedges, I hear a sharp, 
 rough note, kreck-kreck-kreck-kreck-kreck, which I recognize 
 as that of the Virginia Rail (Rallus virginianus] . Squatting 
 down in the thick growth, and remaining perfectly still, 
 they soon come within a few feet of me. There are two, a 
 male and a female. Turning the head in various positions, 
 they eye me very closely, but do not seem at all afraid. I 
 have a good opportunity to study not only their elegant 
 form and colors, but also their attitudes. They are 10 
 inches long, and 14 from tip to tip of the wings; the rather 
 long bill is red shaded with black; cheeks and line over 
 the eye, ash; throat white; crown black; whole upper parts 
 black streaked with brown; a chestnut spot on the wings; 
 whole under parts rich orange brown; flanks and vent black, 
 delicately marked with white. The female is a little smaller 
 than the male, and not quite so brightly colored. As is the 
 case with the Rails generally, the young are black when in 
 the down. This species is readily distinguished from the 
 Common Rail, not only by its color, but also by its long 
 and slender bill. Arriving here late in April, and extending 
 northward into the British Provinces, this bird remains with 
 us in considerable numbers until October, breeding quite 
 commonly about our marshes. The nest, placed on a mat- 
 ted tussock of sedges, is neatly laid, and well edged up, 
 containing some 8 or 10 eggs, 1.25 X. 95, creamy white or 
 dark cream, specked and spotted all over, but more especially 
 at the larger end, with reddish-brown and lilac. 
 
400 THE KING RAIL. 
 
 THE KING RAIL. 
 
 The Virginia Rail is indeed simply the "miniature" of 
 the beautiful King Rail (Rallus elegans), which is some six- 
 teen or more inches in length, and is a rather southern 
 species, reaching only the Middle States to the eastward, 
 but extending even to Washington Territory on the Pacific. 
 
 I have taken it in a marsh on the southern border of Lake 
 Ontario. It is found on the south side of Lake Erie and 
 along Niagara River, and is very abundant on St. Clair 
 Flats. It is a most elegant bird, whose size, rich colors and 
 stately movements may well designate him as king of his 
 kind. The coloring may be identified by that of the Vir- 
 ginia Rail, described above. The voice, too, is similar, 
 ordinarily sounding like geek, geek, geek, geek, being especially 
 audible at night, about the ponds and sluggish streams 
 around which the bird takes up its abode. When alarmed 
 or its nest is disturbed, it emits a loud cry, like cairk, cairk, 
 cairk. The nest of this species is elegant. Placed over the 
 water in a large tuft of marsh-grass, the bottom in the 
 water, the top some eight inches above it, and eight or ten 
 inches in external diameter, the whole is neatly laid of dried 
 grass well edged up, and gracefully sheltered and concealed 
 by the drooping tops of the tall marsh-grasses to which it 
 is fastened. 
 
 The eggs, ten or eleven, some 1.62x1-20, are roundish 
 ovate, of a rich roseate cream, sparingly and very distinctly 
 spotted and specked with reddish-brown and lilac. The 
 nest is easily identified, as the bird sits closely. The eggs 
 seem a little larger, brighter, and more ovate than those of 
 its marine congener, the Clapper Rail. This species is very 
 shy. Though one may hear its sharp notes almost con- 
 stantly from its reedy coverts, it may require much patient 
 watching to get a good view of it. 
 
THE KING RAIL. 40 j 
 
 The King Rail, again, is very similar to the Clapper Rail 
 (Rallus crepitans, or longirostris}, simply a little larger and 
 
 THE CLAPPER RAIL. 
 
 brighter, and more beautiful in color. The notorious noise 
 of the latter, so common to marshes of the Atlantic States 
 to New York, is very much like that of the guinea-fowl, 
 while its nidification is similar to that of the virginianus and 
 elegans. The Clapper Rail is not only noticeably smaller 
 than the King Rail, but the upper parts have a more ashy 
 and colder coloring, while the lower parts are duller and 
 more yellowish. 
 
 How perfect is the law of adaptation in nature, and how 
 wonderful are family traits. The natural world is not a 
 medley, but a system, in which families and orders are 
 grouped in beautiful consistency of place, structure and 
 habit. Among the sedges and cat-tails of our marshes is 
 this strongly marked family of birds, the Rails; with wings 
 apparently too short and weak for extended flight, and yet 
 performing wonders in the time of migration; not only with 
 a body proportioned and balanced for running, but capable 
 of compression to the narrowness of a wedge, in order 
 26 
 
402 THE COMMON GALLINULE. 
 
 to pass readily through the thick growths of the marshes, 
 as also to aid them, perhaps, in their peculiar habit of walk- 
 ing on the bottom under the water in search of food; with 
 large feet and long toes, in order to support their steps on 
 soft mire and floating vegetation, and with legs long and 
 muscular they run like very witches in their reedy maizes, 
 and were it not for their sharp cackling voices, their pres- 
 ence would scarcely be detected, though the marshes swarm 
 with their gregarious multitudes. 
 
 The three Rails here mentioned, virginianus, crepitans and 
 elegans, constitute the genus Rallus; feeding on animal food, 
 which they take out of the water, they have longer bills than 
 the genus Porza?ia, which feeds more particularly on float- 
 ing vegetation. 
 
 THE COMMON GALLINULE. 
 
 Rowing further up stream to another tract of sedges, I 
 am attracted by a spirited cackle something like that of the 
 guinea-fowl, cray, cray, cray, cray; and cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, 
 the first syllable of each strain drawn out, and the rest 
 quite rapid, while occasionally there is something like a 
 musical shake on a reed instrument, decidedly pleas- 
 ing. Concealing myself as much as possible, I strain 
 my eyes in the direction of the sound, and presently 
 see the Common Gallinule (Gallenula galleatd) leading 
 about her newly-hatched brood. The water is about a 
 foot deep, and they are all swimming around in the more 
 open places among the sedges. Some 12-15 inches long, 
 and so nearly the shape of the Rails as to be placed in the 
 same family with them; head, neck and under parts, grayish- 
 black; upper parts, black tinged with olive; bill and frontal 
 piece extending up from the bill, bright red this bird 
 looks like a small dark-colored hen. The newly hatched 
 
THE COMMON GALLINULE. 403 
 
 young might easily be mistaken for black chickens, both 
 from their appearance and from their notes. A more care- 
 ful examination of the Gallinule reveals a little white on the 
 under tail-coverts and on the edges of the wings and flanks, 
 while the greenish feet and legs are ornamented by a red 
 ring, just below the feathers of the thigh; and the toes are 
 margined by a membrane, more or less lobed, somewhat 
 after the manner of the Grebes and Phalaropes. As to food 
 and general habit, this bird is very similar to the Rails, 
 while its color, frontal plate, and lobed toes clearly differ- 
 entiate it. 
 
 A little later in the day, as I approach a long reach of 
 lily-pods surrounded by sedges, I discover a pair of 
 Gallinules on a log partially out of water. They are sta- 
 tioned one on each end of the log, with nine little black 
 chicks strung along between them; and these latter the 
 parents are busily feeding with something which they take 
 from the water. A beautiful sight is this happy family in 
 their own quiet haunts! Without any malicious purpose, 
 but simply to get nearer, I get into my boat and row rap- 
 idly toward them. As I press closely upon them the parents 
 fly for safety, and the little ones, just hatched, leave the log, 
 run for some distance on the lily-pods, then take to swim- 
 ming, and, finally, as my boat glides among them, they all 
 disappear as suddenly as young Partridges in the woods. 
 Backing out, I quit the spot as soon as possible, and retak- 
 ing my point of observation, watch the anxious parents 
 return with coaxing notes and gather together the scat- 
 tered family, which, readily responding to the call, come 
 peeping from their hiding-places in different directions. 
 
 These birds, which swim, dive or run upon the lily-pods 
 with equal ease, are to be associated with still waters, 
 and with that queen of our ponds and lakes, the sweet- 
 
404 THE COMMON GALLINULE. 
 
 scented water-nymph. No infant of a royal household 
 ever sported under a more beautiful canopy than is found 
 by these Gallinule-chicks, beneath the snowy wreath of 
 odorous petals and central crown of gold, standing like an 
 elegant sun-shade in that quiet nook which mirrors the 
 bluff and the surrounding landscape. 
 
 The nest of the Common Gallinule is usually built on 
 shallow water, among the sedges and marsh-grass to which it 
 is fastened. About 10 or 12 inches in diameter, and continued 
 6 or 8 inches above the surface of the water, often with an 
 inclination on one side, like a platform, for walking up from 
 the water, this elegant raft, made of the leaves of cat- 
 tails, sedges and marsh-grass, is neatly hollowed like a 
 saucer on the top, and contains 9-14 eggs, 1.75x1.20- 
 1.85 X 1.25, more or less tinged with light-brown and specked 
 and spotted, especially around the large end, with a shade 
 of reddish-brown, often resembling iron-rust. 
 
 Arriving here, from the region of the Gulf Coast, in April, 
 they remain until October, breeding abundantly in suitable 
 places. They are very abundant on St. Clair Flats, and on 
 Fighting Island, south of Detroit, and are common resi- 
 dents in Western New York ; but I do not think they 
 extend regularly far north of the south shores of the lower 
 Great Lakes. In Maine and the Maritime Provinces, they 
 are simply accidental. 
 
 In the South Atlantic and Gulf States, but sometimes 
 straggling even to New Brunswick, is the beautiful Purple 
 Gallinule (Porphyrio martinica) , described by Dr. Coues as 
 follows : " Head, neck and under parts beautiful purplish- 
 blue, blackening on the belly, the crissum white ; above, 
 olivaceous-green, the cervix and wing coverts tinted with 
 blue ; frontal shield, blue ; bill, red, tipped with yellow ; 
 legs, yellowish. Young, with the head, neck and lower 
 
THE COOT. 405 
 
 back brownish, the under parts mostly white, mixed with 
 ochrey. Length, 10-12 inches." The habits of this elegant 
 bird are, without doubt, similar to those of its plainer rela- 
 tive just described. 
 
 THE COOT. 
 
 Somewhat larger, but very similar to the Gallinules in 
 structure and habit, and strikingly like the Common Galli- 
 nule in color, is the Coot (Fulica americana). In color it 
 differs from the Common Gallinule, however, in being 
 blacker about the head and neck, and lacking the olivaceous 
 tint on the back. Its bill, too, is white or light flesh-color, 
 with a tendency to a dark or dusky ring near the tip; 
 and the tibia lacks the red ring. Quite common in the 
 migrations, it arrives here in April, and returns south in 
 October.* Its breeding habitat is from Northern New 
 England, the Great Lakes and corresponding latitudes, 
 northward. It breeds in such abundance as to be the char- 
 acteristic bird on St. Clair Flats, where they are as common 
 as hens in a farm-yard. The nest is in reedy pools or shal- 
 low water about rivers, lakes and ponds, composed of dried 
 grasses and sedges, after the manner of the Rails and Gal- 
 linules, sometimes tied to the tall clumps of sedges, and yet 
 resting on a mass of floating debris; sometimes resting on 
 the dry ground near their watery abodes. On St. Clair 
 Flats it is a floating nest anchored to the cat-tails and 
 sedges, resembling that of the Common Gallinule, but gen- 
 erally placed further out in the flooded marshes, toward the 
 channels and the lake. Some 12 inches in external diameter 
 and rising about 8 inches above the water, it is almost 
 invariably built of the dried and bleached leaves of the cat- 
 tail; the saucer-shaped interior being often lined with fine 
 
 * It is said to appear in the Mississippi in thousands during the migrations, and to breed 
 in immense numbers in Northern Minnesota and Dakota. 
 
406 THE COOT. 
 
 marsh-grass. Like that of the Gallinule, the nest often has 
 a gradual inclination on one side, forming a convenience 
 for the bird to enter from the water. So free is the motion 
 of this nest, that it may rise and fall with the changes of 
 water-level, or rock in the storm with perfect safety. The 
 eggs, some 9-14, 1.87X1.27-2.00X1.30, are slightly tinged 
 with brown, being very minutely specked and spotted all 
 over with black or dark brown, and so nearly the color of 
 the bleached material on which they are laid, as scarcely to 
 be discernible at any considerable distance. The bird does 
 not sit very closely, but running on the debris or water for 
 a few feet, takes wing with a peculiar splatter, never rising 
 high or flying far. When swimming, the Coot will often 
 allow an approach within shot-range, then starting on a 
 run on the water, it will rise into the air gradually with a 
 spatting, splattering noise, which soon becomes very familiar 
 and distinguishable to the ear. Often shaking the large 
 lobed feet when clear of the water, it flies with the bill 
 pointing down and the feet bending upward, its broad 
 wings differing much from those of the Ducks; and its near 
 splash into the water being about as peculiar to itself as is 
 its noise on rising. Very properly do the western hunters 
 call this bird the " Splatterer." When the black clouds of 
 a near thunder-storm are overhead, his white bill, in front 
 of its black head, becomes very conspicuous, fairly 
 gleaming for whiteness. It is decidedly a noisy bird, its 
 coo-coo-coo-coo-coo being heard both day and night, the first 
 note being prolonged on a much higher key, while the rest 
 are somewhat accelerated. It will often squack similar to 
 a Duck, and has other notes too unique and difficult of 
 description to be given here. The Coot is quite playful on 
 the water, and when the male stretches his neck forward, 
 partly elevates his wings like the Swan, and spreads his 
 
THE COOT. 40? 
 
 tail, showing the white underneath, he is quite a beauty, no 
 doubt, in the eyes of the female. 
 
 In walking, and often in swimming, its head is moved 
 backward and forward like that of the Common Hen, so 
 that it frequently appears, while swimming, as if walking in 
 the water. The young are black, with a tinge of rust-red 
 about the head and neck. 
 
 As the food of this bird is similar to that of the Rails 
 and the more edible Ducks, it is in fair demand for the 
 table. Dall reports it from Alaska, and Reinhardt from 
 Greenland, while its winter habitat is in the Southern States, 
 and may extend to the West Indies and Central America. 
 South America has a closely-allied species. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 GEORGIAN BAY. 
 
 C* EORGIAN Bay lies northeast of Lake Huron, and has ex- 
 ^J tensive communication with it between Great Manitou- 
 lin Island and Cape Hurd, as also about the mouth of St. 
 Mary's River to the north. This bay is nearly as large as 
 Lake Ontario, and contains islands almost innumerable, 
 Great Manitoulin, some eighty miles long, leading in size, 
 and the rest presenting every variety of extent down to 
 mere rocky shoals. Having pitched my tent at Little Cur- 
 rent, a village and steamboat landing on a northeastern point 
 of Great Manitoulin, I make excursions in a small boat to 
 various points of interest in the vicinity, to identify the 
 plants and to note the fossils in the lower silurian rocks 
 of these islands, but more particularly to study the nidifi- 
 cation of the birds in the locality. Fossils are abundant, 
 and there is such a variety of wild flowers, that many of the 
 islands appear like immense flower gardens, very many of 
 the plants being different from those of Western New 
 York. 
 
 THE GOOSANDER. 
 
 Here I find nearly all the Sparrows, breeding, especially 
 the White-throat; the Thrushes are very well represented; 
 our beautiful family of Warblers is varied and numerous; 
 both the Ruffed Grouse and the Spruce Partridge breed 
 here; the Eagle's nest is not uncommon; and some of the 
 
THE GOOSANDER. 409 
 
 Gulls and Terns breed in immense numbers. I am disap- 
 pointed, however, in respect to the Ducks. Excepting the 
 Dusky Duck, very few kinds spend the summer on the bay. 
 Our three kinds of Merganser breed here, however, the 
 Goosander (Mergus merganser), quite commonly. During 
 this month of June there is scarcely a day in which the con- 
 spicuous female does not fly out from some nook or point 
 as the boat passes; and occasionally a group of males are 
 seen, which, as in the case of the Ducks proper, leave the 
 female after incubation commences, and spend their time 
 in small flocks in the most leisurely manner. In a very few 
 cases male and female are surprised together. Probably 
 these are instances in which incubation has not yet begun, 
 or, some accident having befallen the sitting female, she 
 has managed to recall her mate preparatory to a new litter 
 of eggs. 
 
 The male of this species, about 24 inches long, has the 
 slightly crested head and the upper half of the neck glossy 
 green; back, tertiaries and primaries, black; the rest of the 
 wing white, with a black bar nearly across the coverts, and 
 the secondaries edged with black; lower back, beautifully 
 penciled gray; tail ashy; lower neck and under parts white, 
 the latter delicately and richly tinged with salmon; bill, iris 
 and feet, bright red. The female is a little smaller, has the 
 more crested head and upper half of the neck, a light chest- 
 nut red; upper parts generally ashy gray, with less white in 
 the wing; under parts resembling the male, but with a 
 lighter salmon. As she flies, the red head and the white in 
 the wings are especially noticeable. 
 
 In nidification, the Goosander seems to have a partiality 
 for small islands, of which Georgian Bay and the St. Law- 
 rence River, both favorite breeding places of this species, 
 are so full. The nest, sometimes on the ground among the 
 
410 THE GOOSANDER. 
 
 rushes or sedges, and near the water, is rather bulky, made 
 of dried weeds and grasses, finished with fibrous roots, and 
 lined with the bird's own soft down. 
 
 In the Georgian Bay region, as also throughout Canada, 
 and I think also in New England, the Goosander generally 
 breeds in holes in trees, after the manner of the Wood Duck 
 and the Hooded Merganser. In Norway and Sweden, the 
 fact that this species breeds in the above manner is well es- 
 tablished. Having been misled by Audubon's statement, 
 implying that its nest is invariably on the ground, I lost 
 much time in my earlier searches for it. 
 
 The eggs, generally 7 or 8, some 3.00 X 2.00, are oval, 
 smooth, and of a rich cream color. As in the eggs of all 
 the Mergansers, and also those of the Ducks, the smooth 
 finish and clear creamy tint are strongly characteristic. As 
 soon as the young are hatched they are led to the water, as 
 is the case with all the swimming birds. They are an ele- 
 gant little flock, having the exact colors of the female 
 chestnut head and ashen gray upper parts while yet in 
 their softest down. How gracefully they swim at once, and 
 dive like little witches. When they are a few weeks old it 
 will puzzle any boatman to capture them. Nothing can 
 surpass the assiduity of the mother bird in caring for them. 
 How gently she leads and feeds them, teaching them as soon 
 as possible to secure their own food. 
 
 Migrating in small flocks, as the winter approaches, the 
 Goosanders, Sheldrakes or Saw-bills, for they are known by 
 all these names, spread throughout the Union,many, however, 
 going just far enough south to secure open places in the 
 streams for feeding. Here they will come from time to time 
 during the coldest weather, and take their repast, sometimes 
 showing but little of that fear of man so characteristic of 
 the swimming birds in general. The bright red of their feet 
 
THE GOOSANDER. 411 
 
 and bills is suggestive of suffering cold, amidst the snow 
 and ice, but their feet and legs contain no carneous or fleshy 
 substance, only white, bloodless tendons, nearly void of feel- 
 ing; so this color, reminding one of chilblained hands, is only 
 a delusion. The best cow-hide boots and woolen stockings 
 could scarcely make our feet more comfortable than are those 
 of a Goosander on the coldest winter day, while his closely 
 imbricated feathers, with a heavy coat of down at base and 
 well oiled at the surface, far surpassing any suit of rubber, 
 keep out every drop of water. At this time of year male 
 and female are generally seen together, though it is not al- 
 ways easy to distinguish the latter, as it takes the male some 
 two years to reach the final colors of his sex. In the early 
 spring, flocks consisting entirely of the old or mature males 
 may be seen about our lakes and streams. They are then 
 probably on their way from the south, and, as is common 
 with many other birds in the migrations, are preceding the 
 females. The bright salmon of their under parts gives 
 them almost a rosy appearance as they rise from the water 
 amidst snow-banks and floating ice. About this time, 
 however, many may be seen in single pairs, the sexes 
 having, for the most part, chosen partners for the season. 
 Though the Goosander can walk and run well on land, 
 his home is on the water. Here, as an expert diver, he pro- 
 cures his food, of small fishes, little mollusks and crustaceans, 
 and frogs, of which he devours great quantities. For capt- 
 uring fishes, which he raises out of the water and swal- 
 lows head foremost, the sharply and backwardly serrated 
 edges of his bill are particularly adapted. This bird is 
 fond of plunging beneath rushing currents for its food, and 
 should it encounter a raft of floating rubbish or an ice- 
 cake, it will readily pass underneath it. It swims so deeply 
 as to afford the gunner but a small mark, and dives so 
 
412 THE HOODED MERGANSER. 
 
 quickly at the snap or flash of his gun, that he stands but a 
 small chance of killing it. 
 
 On being surprised, the Goosander may rise directly out 
 of the water, but more commonly pats the surface with his 
 feet for some yards, and then rises to windward. A whole 
 flock, thus rising from some foaming current, affords a 
 spirited scene. Once on the wing, the flight is straight, 
 strong and rapid. 
 
 Though Richardson reported the Goosander as abundant 
 in the fur countries, Audubon did not find it in Labrador or 
 Newfoundland, where its congener, the Red-breast, breeds 
 in abundance. Though it is common alike to the salt and 
 fresh waters of North America, Europe and Asia, never look 
 for it in turbid water. Its voice, which is simply a hoarse 
 croak, is rarely to be heard except from the female as she 
 rises from her nest on being surprised, or seeks to extricate 
 her young from some sudden danger. 
 
 THE HOODED MERGANSER. 
 
 During this month of June, I occasionally see the ele- 
 gant Hooded Merganser (Mergus cucullatus) on the more 
 open parts of this northern extremity of the bay. Here 
 it is so exceedingly shy that I am obliged to study it in 
 the distance, with the aid of a glass. What an elegant 
 creature the male is ! About 18 inches or upward in 
 length, he has a large semicircular crest of long, loose 
 feathers, so compressed, laterally, that it assumes a thin 
 edge, thus giving the head a large circular appearance 
 from the side, and making the slender bill, so peculiar to the 
 Mergansers and differentiating them at first sight from 
 the Ducks, to appear particularly diminutive. The head, 
 neck, back, two crescents in front of the wings, and two 
 bars in the speculum are jet-black; crest, excepting the 
 
THE NASHVILLE WARBLER. 413 
 
 black edge, speculum, stripes in the tertiaries, and under 
 parts, white; sides, dark chestnut, finely penciled with 
 black; iris, yellow. The female, somewhat smaller, has 
 the head and neck brown; upper parts blackish-brown, 
 many of the feathers being edged with lighter; the small spec- 
 ulum and under parts, white. The young are brown; and as 
 they swim, their motion is so rapid that "their pink 
 feet are like swiftly-revolving wheels placed a little in the 
 rear," " and the water is beaten into spray behind them." 
 
 In habit, as well as in the structure of its serrated bill, 
 this bird is a genuine Merganser. It is an expert diver, and 
 feeds principally on fish. It is partial to fresh waters, and 
 therefore is rather rare on the Atlantic Coast, while it is 
 abundant on the fresh waters in the interior of Florida in 
 winter, common on our lakes and streams in migration, and 
 very abundant on the great water-courses of the northwest. 
 In winter it has about the range of the preceding, and it 
 breeds more or less from the Southern States northward into 
 the fur countries. 
 
 Its nest is in holes in trees, after the manner of the Wood 
 Duck, and is similarly composed. The 6-10 eggs, about 
 2.12 x 1.72, are smooth, rather spherical, and of a creamy 
 white color. This species breeds abundantly in some of 
 the Western States in the vicinity of the Mississippi. The 
 flight of this bird is so swift that it is very difficult to 
 shoot it on the wing, and it has occasionally been found 
 in Europe. 
 
 THE NASHVILLE WARBLER. 
 
 About four miles and a half east of Little Current is 
 Strawberry Island, comprising about three thousand acres. 
 Having heard that certain Ducks breed there in the marshes, 
 I make an excursion thither on the 7th of June. Scrambling 
 along the edge of a marsh, where the thickly strewn wind- 
 
414 THE NASHVILLE WARBLER. 
 
 falls of cedar make my way exceedingly difficult, as I stum- 
 ble and nearly fall, striking the muzzle of my gun on the 
 fallen timber, a Nashville Warbler (Helminthophaga rufica- 
 pilla) flutters over a pile of rubbish with that peculiar 
 tremor of the wings which every oologist well understands. 
 Knowing that this is a ground-builder, I make diligent 
 search for the nest throughout many square feet around me, 
 but all in vain. Meanwhile the bird lingers in the thick 
 bushes in the immediate vicinity, uttering the soft, whistling 
 tsip, quite peculiar to itself. Fearing lest I may crush with 
 my foot the hidden treasure for which I am searching, I re- 
 tire a few rods and hide in the bushes, hoping to detect the 
 nest by means of the bird's return. Presently she ceases 
 her soft alarm-note, and, flitting coyly along, drops down 
 out of sight very near the place where I first saw her. 
 Slowly and softly I approach the site, but again she is on 
 the wing before I can detect her starting point, and again 
 I fail to find the nest. Once more I go back, and, hiding in the 
 bushes amidst a tormenting cloud of mosquitoes, await a 
 much more tardy return of the bird. But I see now, very 
 nearly, where she settles into the nest, and dropping gun 
 and all, and approaching with the utmost stealthiness, 
 I take into my eye the little tract of ground which must 
 contain the mystery, and clapping my hands by way of 
 alarm, I discover this time exactly where the bird flies out. 
 Parting the dried grasses which trail thickly along by the 
 roots of a little bush, I find the nest a frail, shallow, little 
 affair, of fine dried grasses, lined with bright-red stems or 
 pedicels of moss-capsules, and a black vegetable production, 
 looking as if plucked from a man's beard perhaps old 
 moss-pedicels blackened from the weather; evidently no an- 
 imal product, from the manner in which it burns when held 
 in a flame. This slight structure is tucked away in a thick 
 
THE NASHVILLE WARBLER. 415 
 
 bunch of hypnum mosses, so that I take up the moss as a 
 part of the nest. The 5 eggs, well on in incubation, about 
 .62X.50, are clear white, sparsely specked and spotted all 
 over with light-red and reddish-brown, the markings thick- 
 ening into blotches at the large end. 
 
 This instance of nidification agrees remarkably, especially 
 in the size and appearance of the eggs, with two instances 
 of that of the same species reported by Mr. Allen, from 
 Massachusetts, with others, more recently, by Mr. Peckham, 
 of Rhode Island the characteristics being that the nest, 
 which occurs early in the season, late in May or early in 
 June, is on the ground, and well concealed, having the eggs, 
 some .62X.50, milk-white, and moderately marked with 
 reddish tints. 
 
 The song of this species is common about Manitoulin 
 and Strawberry Islands, and does not resemble that of the 
 Chestnut- side, which may be heard in contrast with it at 
 almost any time. The song of the Nashville Warbler is a 
 composition, the first half of which is as nearly as possible 
 like the thin but penetrating notes of the Black-and-white 
 Creeping Warbler, while the last half is like the twitter of 
 the Chipping Sparrow. As such a composition, its discov- 
 ery has been exceedingly interesting to me; and may be 
 imitated by the syllables, ke-tsee-ke-tsee-ke-tsee-chip-ee-chip-ee- 
 chip-ee-chip. 
 
 About 4.50 long, olivaceous above, yellow beneath, head 
 slate, somewhat obscurely crowned with dark chestnut, its 
 slender and very sharp bill, without notch or bristle, declares 
 it to be one of the Helminthophaga genus. The sexes have a 
 very close resemblance, the female being simply a little 
 lighter and more obscure in color and marking. 
 
 Seeming to winter in Mexico, this species passes through 
 Western New York as a common migrant the first week in 
 
416 THE ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER, 
 
 May, and breeds from New England northward to high 
 latitudes, going casually even to Greenland. It is also 
 reported from the Pacific Coast. 
 
 THE ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER. 
 
 Belonging to this same genus, and very similar in size 
 and coloration, is the Orange-crowned Warbler (Helmin- 
 thophaga celata). But while it is difficult to distinguish the 
 immature birds, in complete plumage, the difference is quite 
 appreciable. In the case of the Orange-crown, the oliva- 
 ceous of the upper parts, and especially the yellow of the 
 under parts, is not so bright as in the Nashville Warbler; be- 
 sides, it lacks the ashy on the head, so conspicuous in the lat- 
 ter, and instead of dark chestnut, the crown is a rather pale 
 orange. Sometimes this latter mark is entirely wanting. On 
 the whole, Orange-crown appears a little the larger of the 
 two. Common in Florida during the winter, it migrates but 
 rarely into the Northeastern States, but becomes common 
 to the west and northwest, and even abundant along the 
 Pacific Coast. 
 
 "A nest of the Orange-crowned Warbler, taken June 12, 
 1860, by Mr. Kennicott, at Fort Resolution, Great Slave 
 Lake, was built on the ground inside of a bank among 
 open bushes, and was much hidden by dry leaves. It con- 
 tained five eggs. This nest is built outwardly of fibrous 
 strips of bark, interiorly of fine grasses, without any other 
 lining. The eggs are very finely dotted all over thickly 
 about the large end, more sparsely elsewhere with pale 
 brown. They measure about .67 X-50." (Coues.) 
 
 The Tennessee Warbler {Helminthophaga peregrind) is a 
 delicate beauty, bearing some resemblance to the last two. 
 It is quite rare in these eastern regions, but common to the 
 westward, even abundant, in the migrations, along the Red 
 
THE BLUE-WINGED YELLOW WARBLER. 417 
 
 River of the north. Some 4.50 long, it is olivaceous above, 
 becoming a delicate ash on the head and neck, the lores being 
 shaded with dusky, and the ring around the eye, and the 
 line over it, being whitish; the under parts are white, some- 
 times slightly tinged with yellow. In the female and young, 
 the ash of the head and neck is more or less olivaceous. It 
 breeds far to the north, its nest having been found at Michi- 
 picoton on Lake Superior. In all stages of plumage it may 
 probably be distinguished from the two former by its wing, 
 which is some 2.75, and therefore from .25 -.50 longer. 
 
 THE BLUE-WINGED YELLOW WARBLER. 
 
 On the 18th of May, in Northeastern Ohio, I took a 
 bird of this genus, the Blue-winged Yellow Warbler 
 (Helminthophaga pinus). That seems to be about the north- 
 ernmost limit of this rather southern species. I detected 
 it from its feeble and drowsy song, sounding like the sylla- 
 bles, swee-e-e-e-e-zree-e-e-e-e, in a decidedly insect tone, and 
 the latter part in the falling inflection. It is quite suggestive 
 of the song of the Yellow-winged Sparrow. About 5 
 inches long; yellowish-olive or light-green above; forehead 
 and entire lower parts bright yellow; bill and strip through 
 the eyes, black; wings and tail alight slaty-blue, the former 
 with two bars of white, the latter with white blotches in the 
 outer feathers. All the colors are particularly delicate and 
 beautiful. Female and young similar. Though but an 
 humble musician, this bird is very beautiful to the eye. In 
 keeping with the rest of its genus, its nest is on the ground. 
 " The eggs, of the usual shape, and measuring about .63 X 
 .48, are white, sparsely sprinkled, chiefly at the great end, 
 with blackish dots, and few others of lighter dirty-brownish." 
 (Coues.) 
 
 Mr. S. N. Roads, of West Chester, Pa., found two nests of 
 27 
 
418 SUNSET ON THE WATER. 
 
 this species in 1878. One found the 12th of June contained 
 young about two days old. The nest was " in the midst of 
 a clump of tall swamp-grass, on the outskirts of a forest 
 where there was a good deal of weedy undergrowth not 
 over two feet high. The nest rested slightly on the ground, 
 and was quite bulky for the size of the bird; the cavity 
 was nearly three inches deep by two inches in width. The 
 structure was composed externally of beech and oak leaves 
 of the preceding year, which seemed to have been care- 
 lessly strewn and stuck in as if to form a barricade around 
 the brim. The lining consisted of fine strips of grape-vine 
 and inner bark of the oak, together with some straws." 
 Several other nests were found in the same locality. 
 
 Wintering in Mexico and Central America, this species 
 has never been reported from New England, except by Mr. 
 Samuels. 
 
 The peculiarities of this strongly marked genus, Helmin- 
 thophaga, are its very sharply-pointed bill, almost like the 
 point of a needle, and without notch or bristles; the exposed 
 nostril, and the rather long-pointed wing. 
 
 Having spent a very profitable afternoon, my company 
 and I leave Strawberry Island for Little Current, about sun- 
 set, our eyes full of the reminiscences of beautiful flowers 
 and our ears full of the songs of birds. The evening is 
 perfectly calm, the scene one of the finest I have ever wit- 
 nessed. In front of us to the west the departing sun is 
 closing behind him his gorgeous and many-colored portal 
 of clouds. In the immense sheet of water of glassy 
 smoothness, every tint of purple, crimson and gold, with 
 the grand arch above, and the tiniest fleece of cloud, are 
 mirrored to the minutest perfection. Away to the right 
 rise the mountains of Lacloche, their grand heights of snowy 
 
RETURN HOME. 419 
 
 quartz reflecting the many colors of the evening; and in 
 the foreground, the dark pines of Lacloche Island and the 
 elegant landscape of the Island of Beauty, are attracting 
 the sombre shadows of night. To the left are the green 
 mountains and sloping hills of Great Manitoulin; and so 
 perfect is the mirror of the waters that the landscape, as 
 well as the sky, is double. We are speechless with the 
 impressive and sacre'd beauty of the scene. Only the muf- 
 fled plash of our oars and the ripple of the boat are heard, 
 and we recall that the meaning of Manitoulin is Island of 
 the Great Spirit; and that many other names of places in the 
 locality are associated with the Indian name of the Deity. 
 Does not the innate consciousness of a God, as revealed in 
 the beauties and the forces of nature, dwell even in the breast 
 of the savage? We are reminded, too, of certain passages 
 in Revelation: "And there were seven lamps of fire burn- 
 ing before the throne, which are the seven spirits of God; 
 and before the throne, as it were a glassy sea like unto 
 crystal. * * * * And I saw as it were a glassy sea 
 mingled with fire; and them that come victorious from the 
 beast, and from his image, and from the number of his 
 name, standing by the glassy sea, having harps of God. 
 And they sing the song of Moses, the servant of God, and 
 the song of the lamb, saying, great and marvelous are thy 
 works, O Lord God, the Almighty; righteous and true are 
 thy ways, thou King of the ages." 
 
 At dark we reach our tent on the lawn of G. B. Avery, 
 Esq., to whose personal kindness, as well as that of his wife 
 and family, we are greatly indebted. 
 
 Our next move is to Lacloche, a fur-trading post of the 
 Hudson's Bay Company, nestling at the foot of the mount- 
 ains on the north shore. After careful instructions as to the 
 route, we thread our way through the labyrinth of islands, 
 
420 A THUNDER-STORM. 
 
 by way of Flag Channel, some dozen miles, and are in full 
 sight of the neat white group of buildings, when all sud- 
 denly a tempest sweeps across the bay. In the heavens 
 above the storm-forces are marshalled in terrible array; the 
 troubled waves reflect the inky blackness of the sky; the 
 blinding lightnings quiver along the sombre crests of the 
 low clouds; the sonorous peals of thunder echo from the 
 clouds and the mountains; the rain falls in torrents, lash- 
 ing the angry billows into a white foam. Our heavily- 
 loaded boat rocks dangerously in great troughs of this 
 surging sea, and the waters dash over us from bow to 
 stern. Pointing our boat to leeward, we drive swiftly 
 toward a small island some half mile away. We reach it in 
 safety, but the rain has run through every thread of our 
 clothing and filled our boots. 
 
 After an hour or more the rain subsides, but the wind 
 continues, and we are obliged to set up our tent for the 
 night. In due time our canvas house, thickly overshadowed 
 by the trees, is ready for lodging, and we are preparing a 
 comfortable evening meal over that convenient tenting 
 appurtenance a kerosene stove. The ground is thoroughly 
 saturated, but by the aid of plenty of spruce boughs our 
 bedding is kept dry, and we sleep a dreamless sleep, amid 
 the hoarse tones of waves and breakers. On awaking in 
 the morning, I detect the sun-light through the trees, and 
 turning towards my nearest comrade, spy a toad sitting 
 placidly on his rosy cheek. As I send the reptile sprawling 
 on the ground, the eyes of my friend open wider than 
 usual at the sight of its upturned under parts; and those 
 facial muscles, which, under certain emotions, raise the 
 corners of the mouth, shorten the cheeks and fashion a cir- 
 cle of cheerful wrinkles about the eyes, work with peculiar 
 effect. 
 
THE OLIVE-BACKED THRUSH. 421 
 
 THE OLIVE-BACKED THRUSH. 
 
 In every direction over the island we hear the songs of 
 Warblers. Here is the song of the ever-present Yellow- 
 warbler (D. (Estiva), the hurried melody of the Canada 
 Warbler, the drowsy notes of the Black-throated Green, 
 and the slender ditty of the Black-and-white Creeping 
 Warbler. Amidst them all I hear the song of a Thrush. 
 To an inexperienced ear it might pass for a poor perform- 
 ance of the Wood Thrush, but it is decidedly inferior in 
 capacity, and the tones are not nearly so loud, liquid and 
 penetrating. I hurry out and look around, but cannot detect 
 the singer, which becomes silent on the least disturbance in 
 his vicinity. During breakfast we hear him again, and are 
 as much puzzled as before. Searching the trees and bushes 
 around the tent, I find a nest in a small balsam-fir, placed 
 on a limb near the trunk and about eight feet from the 
 ground. It is the nest of the Olive-backed Thrush (Turdus 
 swainsoni). While yet in the tree I hear its alarm note, 
 quit, quit, quit ; the syllables being uttered several times, 
 with a pause of a few seconds after each articulation. The 
 alarm note, like the song, bears a striking resemblance to 
 that of the Wood Thrush, except that in the case of the lat- 
 ter, the sharp syllable is uttered a greater number of times 
 and in rapid and spirited succession: quit-quit-quit-quit-qttit. 
 In size, however, about 7-7.50 long, the Olive-back is nearer 
 Wilson's Thrush and the Hermit; but it is always to be dis- 
 tinguished from the former by its darker upper parts, which 
 are of a deep olive-brown, becoming reddish on the rump 
 and tail, and by its larger breast-markings, and from the 
 latter by its creamy breast and cheeks, as well as by its 
 more dusky mantle. The creamy breast shades into the 
 white of the under parts, and the black spots become more 
 obscure on the lower parts of the breast. 
 
422 THE OLIVE-BACKED THRUSH. 
 
 In the trees and tall bushes along Lacloche Creek, which 
 has a rapid and noisy run of about half a mile from a lake 
 in the mountains to the bay, I hear the song and notes of 
 swainsoni quite commonly; but, except in the migrations, 
 when it spends much time on the ground, it keeps for the 
 most part pretty well up in the trees and bushes, and is so 
 shy that only occasionally can one get a glimpse of it. In 
 this locality the similarity of its song to that of the Wood 
 Thrush can be well studied, for they both sing very com- 
 monly in closely adjoining haunts, and were it not for the 
 greater brilliancy and marvelous expression of sentiment in 
 the performance of the latter, the Olive-back would rank as 
 no mean artist. 
 
 For two successive years Mr. Frank H. Lattin, of Gaines, 
 Orleans Co., N. Y., has found the nest and eggs of the 
 Olive-backed Thrush within a short distance of his residence, 
 thus proving a remarkably southern extension of its breed- 
 ing habitat. One found on the 2d of June, 1880, contain- 
 ing 4 fresh eggs, was about 4 feet from the ground, in a 
 small elm sapling standing near the woods in a bushy field. 
 Another taken June 1st, 1881, near the -same spot, and hav- 
 ing 3 fresh eggs, with one of the Cow Blackbird's, was in a 
 slim maple sapling, and about 10 feet from the ground. 
 One of these nests, now before me, is composed of dried 
 weeds and grasses, and lined with rootlets. It is frail and 
 loose, resembling that of the Rose-breasted Grosbeak or 
 Scarlet Tanager. Had it not been so well identified, I 
 should doubt its genuineness; for the nest of the Olive-back 
 is generally more bulky and substantial, and very well lined, 
 though it contains no mud. The eggs, some .90 or .92 X .62, 
 are green, finely specked and spotted with several shades of 
 brown. 
 
 Concerning that variety of the above species called Alice's 
 
THE HERRING GULL. 423 
 
 Thrush (Turdus swainsoni almce), Coues says: "Similar, 
 but without any buffy tint about the head, nor yellowish ring- 
 around the eye ; averaging a trifle larger, with longer, slen- 
 derer bill. Much the same distribution, but breeds further 
 north. Nest and eggs similar." It is sometimes called the 
 Gray-cheeked Thrush. 
 
 THE HERRING GULL. 
 
 The most characteristic bird of Georgian Bay is the Her- 
 ring Gull (Larus argentatus). In Collingwood harbor it 
 sails among the masts of schooners and the smoke-stacks 
 of steamers almost as fearlessly as if no one were present, 
 seeming to understand that that city has a special law for 
 its safety. Any bit of offal is eagerly gobbled up, and the 
 large quantities of refuse-matter cast overboard by the fish- 
 ermen are readily devoured by these elegant scavengers. If 
 a steamboat starts out, numbers follow in her wake, to take 
 advantage of anything edible which is thrown into the water; 
 and until the distant port is reached, scarcely a minute are 
 they out of sight. One may amuse himself by the hour 
 throwing bits of cracker or meat overboard for them.. Quite 
 a distance off they will detect a mere crumb on the surface, 
 and, screaming with delight, pick it up on the wing. Should 
 the cook throw overboard a dish of remnants, a considerable 
 number will alight on the water and take their repast at 
 their leisure. Should one discover a particularly large or 
 desirable morsel, he will seize it and rise to leave, pursued 
 by several of his eager squalling comrades. All along upon 
 the rocks and shoals they stand like snowy sentinels; here 
 and there they float lightly on the water; or they fly 
 low over the surface in search of prey, or soar majesti- 
 cally against the clear ether or the sombre cloud; the entire 
 snow-white figure of their under parts reminding one fore- 
 
424 THE HERRING GULL. 
 
 ibly of the purity of the elements around. The length of 
 this species being 2 feet or upwards, and its spread of wings 
 some 4% feet, it compares well in size with the larger birds 
 of prey, and its strong steady stroke of the wings, as well 
 as its spiral soaring, is very suggestive of the grand flight 
 of the larger Buzzards. Pure white in maturity, with yel- 
 low bill and red gonys, a light bluish-gray curtain over the 
 back and wings, ends of the primaries jet-black tipped or 
 spotted with white, feet a delicate flesh color, this bird is 
 an object of great beauty in whatever attitude one meets it. 
 On clear sunny days of April I have seen it flying leisurely 
 northward, overland, so high up that it appeared at first 
 sight like a bit of stray down floating in the atmosphere, 
 and only as the eye adjusted itself to the distance could its 
 outline be defined. 
 
 The Herring Gull breeds in community in a number of 
 places about Georgian Bay, sometimes a dozen or fifty 
 appropriating small rocky islands or shoals, sometimes very 
 large communities taking possession of larger islands, 
 or even groups of them. One of the most extensive breed- 
 ing places is the island called the Half-moon, lying between 
 Cape Hurd and the east end of Great Manitoulin. Here 
 the fishermen sometimes obtain hundreds of dozens of the 
 eggs at a time. The nest, generally placed in the most 
 exposed situation on the bare rocks, sometimes under shel- 
 ter of the bushes, is a promiscuous pile of trash and dirt 
 consisting largely of moss and lichens gathered from the 
 rocks, of small sticks and dried grasses, of almost anything 
 to be picked up in the vicinity pretty well heaped up, and 
 with a considerable depression in the center. The eggs, 
 the full complement of which is three, are about 2. 75-2. 83 x 
 1.80-2.00. The color is greenish or brownish drab, with 
 dark brown and light grayish-brown spots, blotches and 
 
THE HERRING GULL. 425 
 
 scratches, extending more or less over the entire surface, 
 but frequently thicker at the large end. The thick and ele- 
 gant down of the newly-hatched young is nearly the color 
 of the egg. As these birds occupy the same site for breed- 
 ing, from year to year, it becomes generally known in the 
 vicinity, or if the spot be remote it is visited by fishermen 
 and adventurers from a distance; and the nests are robbed 
 most unmercifully, often until late in summer, the Gulls 
 continuing to lay in a very prolific manner. The disastrous 
 consequences of this cruel practice, thus kept up from year 
 to year, must be very great, rapidly reducing the number 
 of these birds, so useful as scavengers and so highly orna- 
 mental to the landscape. It is probably in consequence of 
 this continued disturbance that whole colonies about the 
 sea-shore have resorted to the trees for nidification. 
 
 Visiting Seal Island, Yarmouth County, Nova Scotia, 
 last June (1883), I was most intensely interested in study- 
 ing the nesting of these Gulls on trees. A great part of the 
 island, as also of other islands in the vicinity, is covered 
 with a peculiar growth of black spruce (Abies nigra) ; rather 
 low, as if stunted by the cold foggy atmosphere, the branches 
 are very thick and numerous for the height of the tree, as if 
 made dense by the shortening of the trunk; and the broad 
 top is as flat as a Chinese umbrella. Climbing to the tops of 
 these trees, one seems to have reached an immense level plane 
 of dark green, across which a squirrel might run with all 
 ease. Indeed, it almost appears to the eye as if a man might 
 traverse it at least with snow-shoes. My first survey of 
 this scene was just after a bright June sunset. All over 
 this expanse of dark verdure, hundreds of Gulls were 
 alighted, singly, in pairs, and in groups, their chaste white 
 figures most elegantly tinted with the rosy hues of the lin- 
 gering sunlight, while many others were describing their 
 
426 THE HERRING GULL. 
 
 grand and noisy circles overhead. In the open spaces, where 
 fire had destroyed the trees, a good many nests were on the 
 ground, built as described above; but many more were 
 on the almost level tops of the trees, and were constructed 
 precisely like those on the ground. In foggy weather this 
 immense colony of birds, much magnified by the mists as 
 they describe their maize of circles in the sky, are a 
 weirdly grand sight, which cannot be surpassed even by 
 that of the hundreds that sail through the mists arising from 
 Niagara Falls in winter. On searching the above locality 
 for nests, one is well convinced of the increased security 
 resulting from this change in the manner of nesting; and 
 one is not a little surprised at the sagacity of the bird, 
 which has availed itself of so evident an advantage. 
 
 Their breeding habitat on the Atlantic is from Northern 
 Maine and Nova Scotia northward. 
 
 At their breeding places these Gulls are quite noisy. 
 They have a loud, clear note, sounding like chee-ah, every 
 now and then repeated, and a shorter nasal hunk, kunk. 
 These notes are uttered in a very spirited manner, as they 
 describe their circles high overhead when their nests are 
 being disturbed. They are also accompanied by a harsh 
 rattling sound kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk. 
 
 " How many kinds of Gulls breed on these shoals?" I in- 
 quired of an old gentleman, as the tug was nearing one of 
 the well-known breeding places. " Two," was the answer, 
 " White uns an' gray uns." So might any one think who is 
 not acquainted w r ith the history of these birds; but the fact 
 is that the white ones and gray ones are all of the same 
 kind, the young birds, in their gray plumage, requiring sev- 
 eral years to reach the mature coloration. 
 
 The old gentleman in question must have mistaken, how- 
 ever, the appearance of the birds later in the season for 
 
THE RING-BILLED GULL. 427 
 
 that of the breeding time; for the immature specimens, 
 though seen in leisurely flocks all summer, farther south on 
 the Great Lakes, never appear on the breeding grounds in 
 spring. The colonies resorting thither are all in the full 
 purity of their final summer plumage, and thus their beauty, 
 as a part of the landscape, is greatly enhanced. Like the 
 Gull family in general, this bird has two moults, one in the 
 spring and one in the fall, and during winter the mature 
 bird has the head and neck streaked with gray. 
 
 From its name, one might suppose that this bird subsists, 
 mainly at least, on herring, but it captures with equal read- 
 iness any fish of proper size, dashing at the surface, or drop- 
 ping into the water, a few moments, to secure it, but rarely, 
 if ever, plunging after it. It also feeds on various 
 kinds of miollusks, holding the shell in its claw, after 
 the manner of a Hawk, and breaking it with its bill in order 
 to secure the contents. Dr. Coues " once found remains 'of 
 a Marsh Hare in the stomach of one of these Gulls." I 
 have seen it pick up the newly-skinned body of a Common 
 Tern, thrown on the water, and gulp it down at a mouthful, 
 scarcely retarding its flight. In fact, it will feed on almost 
 anything, and in certain localities is an excellent scavenger. 
 
 THE RING-BILLED GULL. 
 
 Observing the Herring Gulls, on Georgian Bay, one will 
 notice certain individuals very much smaller than the rest, 
 while their form and color, as well as their general habit, are 
 precisely the same. On shooting one of these, however, it 
 will be discovered that the bill is greenish-yellow at the 
 base, followed by a broad band of black encircling it at the 
 gonys, while its tip is bright chrome; the angle of the 
 mouth and part of the cutting-edges of the bill being red, 
 and the legs and feet of a dusky green. On measuring 
 
428 THE RING-BILLED GULL. 
 
 it, it is found to be only 18-20 inches long and some 48 
 inches in extent; thus being much smaller than the Herring 
 Gull, while the colors of its bill and feet fully differentiate 
 it. From the dark ring around its bill, it is called the 
 Ring-billed Gull (Larus delawarensis). It has nearly the 
 same diet and habitat as its near relative, which it so closely 
 resembles. 
 
 About 44 miles northeast of Collingwood, and somewhat 
 north of the route from that city to Parry Sound, are the 
 Western Islands. They are in two thick groups, the largest 
 islands containing several acres each, the smallest being 
 mere rocky shoals. One of the largest has a few trees, 
 most of the rest contain a few shrubs, and more or less 
 small vegetable growth and grasses on some of the ledges 
 of rock. They are many miles from any human habitation, 
 resting quietly in the grand solitude of this waste of 
 waters. On one of the larger islands of these groups, the 
 Ring-bills breed in immense numbers. As one nears the 
 shores they literally swarm with many hundreds, if not 
 thousands, of these elegant birds. The rocks and the 
 waters along the shore are literally white with them. Ap- 
 proaching still nearer, they take alarm, and rise like an 
 immense living cloud. The very air, rustling with the noise 
 of their snowy wings, seems alive with them^ and still they 
 rise from the more distant parts of the island, until their 
 numbers are overwhelming. Rising high overhead, the 
 great mass spread out somewhat, and describing their 
 graceful circles, intersecting each other at points innumer- 
 able, form most complicated and animated figures of huge 
 dimensions against the sunlit ether or the thick veil of 
 dark clouds. Now they become very noisy, their voices 
 being quite similar to that of the Herring Gull. Presently 
 the great excited mass separates into sections; several 
 
THE RING-BILLED GULL. 429 
 
 large groups drop into the water near by, and whiten its 
 surface for some distance; others continue their flight far- 
 ther away, while not a few still linger near to watch the fate 
 of their treasures, and keep up an uneasy chattering di- 
 rectly overhead. The nests on the island are found to be 
 almost numberless, some of them being so close together, 
 that the sitting birds must almost touch each other. In 
 the style of the nest, the shape, color and number of the 
 eggs, and the color of the newly-hatched young, there is 
 the greatest resemblance to the nidification of the Herring 
 Gull; only, in accordance with the diminished size of the 
 birds, both nests and eggs are much smaller; the latter 
 being 2.07-2.50 x 1.63-1.70. On the whole, the marking of 
 these eggs tends more to blotches than is the case with the 
 eggs of the near but larger relative. Also the bills and feet 
 of the young are noticeably darker. Passing by many 
 nests containing newly-hatched young, and others with 
 eggs, through the shells of which the peeping chicks have 
 already thrust their bills, one may gather a sufficient sup- 
 ply of eggs for study, scarcely affecting the number on the 
 whole. 
 
 The full-grown young, on through its years of gradual 
 change into the maturity of coloration, bears a close resem- 
 blance to the Herring Gull of corresponding age; in fact, 
 in shades and markings is about identical. The resem- 
 blance of these two species also holds good in respect to 
 the mature birds in their annual changes of plumage. 
 
 The Gulls proper are a well-marked subdivision of the 
 Gull family in general, that family including Jaegers, or 
 Skua Gulls, Gulls proper, Terns and Skimmers. Some of 
 the differentiating characters of the Gulls proper are: 
 the rather long, deep and much compressed bill, well 
 hooked toward the point, with peculiar enlargement at the 
 
430 THE RING-BILLED GULL. 
 
 gonys, and sharp cutting edges; tail generally even; body 
 thick, and wings broad, as compared with the Terns, for 
 instance, while they are usually of larger size; feet and legs 
 stout for birds of their class; and the bouyancy with which 
 they float on the water, on account of their small bodies as 
 compared with the bulk of their plumage. In form, gener- 
 ally, the whole sub-family are so similarly moulded, that 
 any eye of moderate discrimination can recognize them. 
 In size and color they are subject to great variation. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 TENTING ON THE NIAGARA. 
 
 THE Niagara ranks with the most interesting rivers of the 
 world. Its great gorge, cut from Queenstown Heights 
 to Niagara City by the constant recession of the falls, is 
 not only grand in itself, but affords the most important 
 data for reckoning geological time, and also a most ad- 
 mirable illustration of the rock strata of the upper Silurian 
 age; while the falls are not second to any of nature's won- 
 ders. Indeed, from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, the river 
 is throughout an object of varied beauty. As this work is 
 written especially from Western New York as a point of 
 view, I have thought it necessary to spend time on this 
 grand water-course; and that time has been passed mostly 
 in tenting. For this kind of recreation no locality could 
 be finer than Buckhorn Island, which is separate from 
 Grand Island by Burnt-ship Creek. Here I once pitched 
 my tent, in the middle of August, under the shade of a 
 large maple in the edge of an open grove with a green 
 sward almost equal to a lawn, which, undermined along 
 the margin of the river, dropped over the low bank to the 
 water's edge like a fine terrace. Thus located on the very 
 brink of the river, the east end of the tent opened toward 
 Tonawanda, the west toward Niagara City and the Falls, 
 which were some four miles distant and in full view. 
 Directly north was the village La Salle, and the fine country 
 
432 TENTING ON THE NIAGARA, 
 
 along the river. The waters of this river being the outlet 
 of one great lake into another, and therefore wholly unlike 
 those rivers which drain alluvial soils, are remarkably pure. 
 Hence, the sheet of water east of Buckhorn, about a mile 
 in width, and breaking into the rapids to the south and 
 west, is an ever changing scene of great beauty. In certain 
 hours of the day, when the sky is bright, the color is a deli- 
 cate green, compared with which the clearest sky looks 
 dark and inky. In no other waters, of river, lake or ocean, 
 have I ever seen so bright and beautiful a tint of green. 
 When tossed by the wind this sheet of green is ornamented 
 with large snow-white crests of foam. Again it assumes a 
 deep purple or a cold gray, or almost a deep black, when 
 frowned upon by a darkly clouded sky. The roar of the 
 falls is nearly as distinct as it is in the immediate vicinity, 
 and the mist, which rises constantly, is ever changing, both 
 in quantity and appearance. Sometimes it is barely per- 
 ceptible, or even disappears entirely; again it is a thick 
 column, and forms a dense cloud. Generally it is about the 
 color of steam; sometimes it is like a column of black 
 smoke against the gaudy tints of sunset. I occasionally 
 see it, toward the close of day, of a delicate rose-tint and 
 once after a heavy storm, as the sun, nearing the horizon, 
 threw a flood of light from behind the black cloud formed 
 above the cataract, the mist, as it rose, was a bright flame- 
 color; and, rolling among the trees on the Canadian side, 
 seemed like a raging fire. The city was wrapped in a 
 golden cloud, and the whole landscape to the. east was 
 bathed in a rosy mist. 
 
 Next to the sweet and simple pleasures of childhood are 
 those of tenting out. O, the delicious quiet and freedom, 
 as I recline on the grass with my good and companionable 
 friend, to partake of the simple but palatable meal which 
 
THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER. 433 
 
 our own hands have prepared; or bend over the side of 
 the boat and wash our few dishes of bright tin; or sit in 
 the tent door at the close of day reading or watching the 
 birds on this grand water-course. It reminds one, too, of 
 the ancient, patriarchal days when Abraham, Isaac and 
 Jacob dwelt in tents; and thus carries us back from our highly 
 artificial and complicated age of living, and gives us a 
 glimpse of the quiet peace and simplicity of the olden 
 times of the sweet infancy of human history. What an 
 object of beauty is a new wall-tent almost as white as 
 snow upon the clear roof of which, through the ever mov- 
 ing trees, play, by day, the shadows of the sunlight, and by 
 night, the shadows of the moonlight. My carpet, too, of 
 rich green-sward intermixed with a variety of small plants, 
 is a real study in botany. Here I rest sweetly on the very 
 bosom and near the heart of nature. 
 
 THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER. 
 
 The most constant bird-note along the river and the shore 
 is the rapidly uttered/^/, weet, iveet, weet, weet, or wreet, wreet y 
 wreet, wreet, of the Spotted Sandpiper (Tringoides macularius), 
 a most common and characteristic bird throughout North 
 America; unlike most of its tribe, which go far north 
 for nidificatiori, it breeds from Texas to Labrador, and as 
 abundantly along the waters of the interior, as in the vicin- 
 ity of the sea. Its well pronounced notes express the very 
 soul of sweet content and cheerfulness. Who could be the 
 victim of care or melancholy, nesting in the quiet haunts 
 enlivened by such sprightly tones ! Scarcely less melodious 
 are they than the tender utterances of the piping Plover. 
 Indeed, but few of the sylvan songsters can render their 
 strains more suggestively pleasing. On the ground or in 
 the air, it is exceedingly graceful. As the bird alights and 
 28 
 
434 THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER. 
 
 begins to run, the passage from one kind of locomotion to 
 the other is so easy, one can scarcely see where flight ends 
 and running begins. 
 
 It has, moreover, two distinctive habits of motion, which 
 may keep time with its notes, and really become a part of 
 the landscape of its haunts about lakes, ponds and streams. 
 The first, pertaining to its flight, is the tremulous vibration 
 of its long-pointed wings, curving downward after certain 
 regular strokes. The second is the perpendicular sweep- of 
 the tail and hinder part of the body, so rapid and constant 
 while the bird is alighted as to give it the common name, 
 Tip-up. Both these motions are exceedingly graceful, and 
 add greatly to the character and charm of this gentle, con- 
 fiding bird, the most common of all our Waders. The peculiar 
 note, and the motion while on the ground, are both assumed 
 by the young about as soon as they leave the shell. 
 
 Arriving in this district, and in the Middle States gener- 
 ally, about the middle or twentieth of April, it is exceed- 
 ingly sprightly and musical on all our water-courses, retir-' 
 ing to the fields, late in May or early in June, for nidification. 
 The nest is on the ground, in any cultivated field or past- 
 ure, or about barren shores, generally near, but sometimes 
 rather remote from water, and ordinarily consists of a 
 loose arrangement of dried grasses or straw, but it seems to 
 increase in bulk and elaborateness of structure as the bird 
 extends northward. In Labrador, Audubon found these 
 nests " made of dry moss, raised to the height of from six 
 to nine inches, and well finished within with slender grasses 
 and feathers of the Eider Duck." In this locality they 
 are found, also, well sheltered beneath shelving rocks. As 
 its breeding habitat is so extensive, its time of nidification 
 varies with the locality. In Texas, Audubon saw the young 
 " well grown " by the fifth of May, while in Newfoundland 
 
THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER. 435 
 
 they were "just fully fledged" by the eleventh of August. 
 The parent leaves the nest with much reluctance, and man- 
 ifests the greatest distress as she hobbles and flutters along, 
 or even prostrates herself on the ground, at a short distance, 
 uttering the most plaintive notes. The 4 eggs, 1.35X.92, 
 are a grayish cream, specked, spotted and heavily blotched 
 with dark brown and also a lighter tint. Like the eggs of 
 the Waders in general, they are quite pointed, and large for 
 the size of the bird. When in the down, the young are 
 gray, having a black stripe over the back, and one behind 
 each eye. 
 
 This bird spends the winter in the Southern States, but 
 extends also through Mexico and Central America to South 
 America. It is 7.00-8.00 long ; bill about 1.00, and grooved 
 nearly to the tip; head and neck slender; color above, a 
 bronze-olive, much like that of a Cuckoo, with fine central 
 lines or wavy cross-bars of black; eye-lid, line back from the 
 eye and under parts, pure white in the mature birds, and 
 finely spotted with black, the young lacking the black spots. 
 
 The Solitary Sandpiper (Tetanus solttarius), some 9.00 long 
 and 17.00 in extent, is "dark lustrous olive-brown, streaked 
 on the head and neck, elsewhere finely speckled with whitish; 
 below, white, jugulum and sides of neck with brownish 
 suffusion, and dusky streaks; rump and upper tail-coverts 
 like the back; tail, axillars and lining of wings, beautifully 
 barred with black and white; quills entirely blackish; bill 
 and feet blackish ; young, duller above, less speckled, jugu- 
 lum merely suffused with grayish-brown." This "shy, quiet 
 inhabitant of wet woods, moist meadows, and secluded 
 pools, rather than of the marshes," is not gregarious, and 
 is often found singly. Its nidification is but imperfectly 
 known. An egg from Vermont, well identified, was de- 
 scribed by the late Dr. Brewer. Mr. Jas. W. Banks, of St. 
 
436 THE BANK SWALLOW. 
 
 John, N. B., found a nest containing 3 eggs on the shore of 
 a lake in the suburbs of that city, July 3d, 1880. It was 
 " about 200 yards from the edge of the lake, on a dry spot 
 in the midst of a rather swampy patch of meadow." Mr. 
 Maynard gives the following description of a set of eggs well 
 identified,from Utah. Dimensions from .95 X 1.35-1.00 X 1.40; 
 varying from creamy to pale buff in color, spotted and 
 blotched with umber-brown of varying shades, with the 
 usual pale shell markings. 
 
 THE BANK SWALLOW. 
 
 Just above the tent where the bank curves gracefully and 
 is quite a little above its ordinary height, a community of 
 Bank Swallows have selected their summer residence. A 
 grand sheet of water is this for them to skim, in their grace- 
 ful aerial evolutions. In every way a most delightful 
 summer resort do they find this. Five inches long, dull 
 or grayish-brown above, with pectoral band of the same, 
 and white underneath, like the Swallows generally, the 
 Bank Swallow (Cotyle riparia) reaches us late in April or 
 early in May. In communities about river-banks, or quite 
 as readily in sand pits remote from the water, excavating 
 eighteen inches, or two feet, into soft, sandy earth, they place 
 in an enlargement, at the end of the burrow, a nest consist- 
 ing of dried grasses, loosely arranged, and containing four 
 or five white eggs, some .68X.50. A first set is laid late in 
 May or early in June, and a second may follow later. 
 
 Breeding in North America generally, and spending the 
 winter from our southern coast southward into the West 
 India Islands, Cotyle riparia is found also in Europe. 
 
 The Bank Swallow is easily mistaken for the Rough- 
 winged Swallow (Stelgidopteryx serripennis); very similar in 
 its general appearance and habit; but the latter can be dis- 
 
THE KINGFISHER. 437 
 
 tinguished, when flying towards one, by the absence of the 
 pectoral band of the former; and when in the hand, it is 
 found to be a little larger, not so clear white underneath, 
 and lacking "the curious little tuft of feathers at the bottom 
 of the tarsus," so characteristic of the former; while the 
 recurved outer web of the primaries, in the male, equally 
 differentiates it, as well as secures its common name. It, 
 too, generally breeds in banks, though "it has been found 
 breeding about the piers and abutments of bridges, etc." 
 (Coues.) It is "distributed, during the breeding season, 
 throughout the United States exclusive of New England." 
 (Maynard.) 
 
 The Bank Swallow, unlike the Swallows generally, seems 
 unaffected, in its habits of nidification, by the introduction 
 of civilization; but both it and the Rough-wing seem less 
 noisy and less musical than their congeners. 
 
 THE KINGFISHER. 
 
 Never did I see anywhere so many Kingfishers as on the 
 Niagara River. At my tenting ground, on Buckhorn 
 Island, they were almost constantly in view, and never before 
 did they seem to me to be so fine an ornament to the land- 
 scape. Their flight, as they passed up and down those 
 lovely waters, moving in long curves, caused by a more 
 rapid beating of the wings every few yards, and thus throw- 
 ing themselves up at intervals, was really graceful. Their 
 forms, too, seemed especially graceful; their long wings, so 
 finely marked, as they opened in flight, with a long bill and 
 crest overtopping the pure white neck, all added to the 
 pleasing figure. The Kingfisher can hover as elegantly as 
 any Falcon, while he eyes his prey in the clear depths; and 
 his adroitness in plunging head first into the water, utterly 
 burying himself in search of his sprightly game, and again 
 
433 THE KINGFISHER. 
 
 emerging and putting off with an air of real pleasure, is very 
 animating to the beholder, to say the least. One almost 
 feels like clapping his hands at the success of the feat. I 
 watch him with interest even as he alights upon a stake or a 
 limb over the water, intent upon his prey beneath, occasion- 
 ally jerking his tail, or repeating his peculiar rattle, often 
 compared to the whistle of a night-watch, but sounding 
 really musical in this pleasing solitude. 
 
 Reaching this locality as early as the 18th of March for 
 they barely go far enough south in winter to find the streams 
 clear of ice they are already prospecting for a nest by the 
 first week in April. The nest is near the inner extremity of 
 a hole in the bank of a stream or pond, some 4 or 5 feet 
 from the entrance; often near the surface, but if the bank 
 be high, it may be a number of feet below. The nest con- 
 sists of a few sticks or a little straw, with some feathers; 
 and contains some half-dozen pure white eggs, about 1.32X 
 1.05. Incubation, which is performed by both parents, lasts 
 about two weeks, and the young receive the best of atten- 
 tion. When they are disturbed, it is said " the mother 
 sometimes drops on the water as if severely wounded, and 
 flutters and flounders as if unable to rise from the stream, 
 in order to induce the intruder to wade or swim after her, 
 whilst her mate, perched on the nearest bough, or even on 
 the edge of the bank, jerks his tail, erects his crest, rattles 
 his notes with angry vehemence, and then springing off, 
 passes and repasses before the enemy with a continued cry 
 of despair." 
 
 About a foot long, the Kingfisher (Ceryle alcyoii), is slaty- 
 blue above, including the long crest and band across the 
 breast, the shafts of the feathers black, spot in front of the 
 eye, collar around the neck, and under parts generally, pure 
 satiny white, quills and tail-feathers mostly black, spotted 
 
7 HE MARSH HA WK. 439 
 
 with white, wing-feathers and wing-coverts often tipped 
 and specked with white, the long bill black, toes much 
 joined together; the female, with a chestnut band across 
 the lower breast, just below the one of slaty blue, has also 
 chestnut along the sides. 
 
 The fish-diet of this bird makes it very disagreeable to 
 the taxidermist. It is a most characteristic bird of North 
 America, reaching to Central America and the West India 
 Islands. About the valleys of the Rio Grande, Colorado 
 and southward, there is a beautiful green species but 8 inches 
 long, called Cabanis' Kingfisher. These make up the King- 
 fishers of our continent. 
 
 THE MARSH HAWK. 
 
 While the northern or front side of Buckhorn Island is till- 
 able upland, affording a profitable fruit farm and an elegant 
 grove, the southern part, along Burnt-ship Creek, is an exten- 
 sive marsh, with an abundance of tall grass and sedges, 
 elegantly ornamented with wild flowers, and an occasional 
 group of alders. Here I take a stroll, gun in hand. A 
 quieter spot it would be difficult to find, but oh ! how trying, 
 to a sweet temper even, to traverse these hummocks! They 
 are scarcely larger than a man's hat, and afford such a luxu- 
 riant growth of tall marsh-grass, that one can scarcely 
 force the foot through it, while all the interspaces are a bot- 
 tomless soft mire. I make my perilous way, catching hold 
 of the grass to support my uncertain steps, and unable to 
 observe anything, when lo! I am startled by putting up a 
 fine female of the Marsh Hawk or Harrier (Circus cyaneus 
 var. hudsonius). She rises but a few feet ahead of me, and 
 on reaching the spot I find the feathers of the Common 
 Rail, the late quarry of the startled bird. These Hawks 
 are so plenty as to be almost constantly in sight about this 
 
440 THE MARSH HA WK. 
 
 marsh, being about as common here as on the salt marshes of 
 New Jersey. With long wings and tail, they always fly rather 
 low, often near the ground, and never very swiftly. Accus- 
 tomed to pass and repass while searching thoroughly a given 
 locality, they generally sail, with a few occasional strokes 
 of the wings to gain a new impulse. Either the clear bluish- 
 gray male, or the mottled and streaked reddish-brown female, 
 each having the conspicuous white spot on the rump, may 
 be readily recognized. When the mature male passes 
 over you, excepting a few dark markings near the throat or 
 breast and the black points of his wings, he appears almost 
 pure white. This species has indeed " a queer owlish physi- 
 ognomy, produced by the shape of the head, and especially 
 by the ruff of modified feathers, which in its higher develop- 
 ment is characteristic of the Strigida" or Owls 
 
 The female is very noticeably larger than the male, being 
 some 20-21 inches in length, while the former is but 16-18 
 inches, and somehow appears more frequently, in migratory 
 periods at least, in the low flight which this bird makes in 
 search of its lowly prey of insects, mice, snakes, and frogs. 
 Of the latter, Circus is said to be especially fond, so that one 
 writer affirms that "these goggle-eyed and perspiring creat- 
 ures suffer more from the Harriers than from all the school 
 boys that ever stoned them of a Saturday afternoon." It 
 will readily be seen that this bill of fare necessarily attracts 
 them to marshes and bogs. In these "watery preserves" 
 they may not infrequently feast upon a Rail or a small 
 Wader. In every case, like the Buzzards in general, they 
 drop upon their prey and devour it on the spot, thus 
 differing greatly from the Falcons, which dash upon their 
 victims in the swiftest flight, and from many of the Rap- 
 tores^ which convey their prey to fancied places for con- 
 sumption. 
 
THE CAROLINA RAIL. 441 
 
 The nest, placed on the ground in some marshy spot, and 
 more or less neatly arranged of dried grasses, sometimes 
 resting on a slight bed of sticks, is about a foot in diameter 
 and three or four inches in depth, and is sometimes partly 
 sheltered by shrubbery. It contains some four or five 
 greenish-tinted eggs, some 1.85x1.45, sometimes obscurely 
 marked with brownish or lavender. This species generally 
 breeds in May or early in June. Arriving here in April, it 
 leaves for the south rather early in the fall. 
 
 Of this species, variety hudsonius, is found throughout 
 North America, variety cyaneus in Europe and Asia, while 
 cinereus belongs to South America. 
 
 THE CAROLINA RAIL. 
 
 But for the feathers of this Carolina Rail (Porzana Caro- 
 lina], left after the meal of the Marsh Hawk, the stranger 
 to ornithology might not suspect its presence in this marsh; 
 for they may abound, in one of these sedgy, reedy localities, 
 and yet be so closely concealed as to elude all ordinary 
 observation. They are abundant, however, in the marshes 
 and about bodies of water, throughout the middle districts 
 of our Union, and far to the north, from April till late in 
 October, disappearing, it would seem, on the approach of 
 cold weather. If the observer will carefully hide himself in 
 these marshy resorts, near the close of day, he may 
 hear their queep-eep-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip, or quaite, quaite, peep, peep, 
 kuk-kuk-kuk the first two or three syllables in long- 
 drawn, coaxing tones, and the remaining syllables shorter 
 and more hurried representing the vocal performance of 
 this species. Here, too, especially if he be near the 
 border of some sluggish pool, he may have frequent 
 glimpses of Porzana, as it runs with tail erect upon 
 the lily-pods in search or its food of small aquatic 
 
442 THE CAROLINA RAIL. 
 
 animal, as well as vegetable life, but particularly the seeds 
 of weeds. 
 
 How gracefully it walks along that floating log, moving 
 its head forward and backward in dainty dove-like jerks to 
 keep its center of gravity, and also jerking its tail forward 
 with a quick spreading motion. Leaving the log and trav- 
 ersing the floating debris, it slumps in and wades or swims 
 for a short distance without the least inconvenience. 
 
 While traversing a marsh, in the beautiful days of Octo- 
 ber, one may every now and then see it start up from almost 
 under foot, and flying with apparent feebleness just above 
 the tops of the grass, with legs dangling carelessly down- 
 ward, drop suddenly out of sight again, to be put up a 
 second or third time perhaps, but finally depending 
 upon the strength and facility of its legs, rather than upon 
 its more feeble wings, for safety. Its body, too, becoming 
 almost as flat as one's hand at pleasure, can wedge its way 
 through sedges and rushes, almost with the ease of a mouse. 
 It is equally expert as a diver, clinging with its feet for 
 some time to the reeds under water, or, when compelled to 
 breathe, hiding dexterously under floating herbage, merely 
 protruding its head or bill above the surface. Being in 
 good requisition for the table, it has been extensively hunted, 
 especially about the marshes of Delaware and Chesapeake 
 Bays, where it is very numerous. Wilson gives a full 
 account of the manner of capturing these birds in his day 
 a general slaughter, decidedly repulsive to good sense and 
 humane feelings. 
 
 The nest, built here late in May, in its favorite localities, 
 is placed on a matted tussock of dried sedges or grasses. 
 It is quite basket-like, tied just above the water, neatly laid 
 of fine materials, well edged up, and having the tops of the 
 grasses elegantly woven together as a canopy over the nest. 
 
THE CAROLINA RAIL. 443 
 
 It contains 7-12 eggs, some 1.20X-90, of a rich, clear brown- 
 ish drab, with scattered and distinct specks, and large spots 
 of dark umber and light gray. The young, looking like 
 diminutive black chickens, with a bit of red under the chin, 
 run about as soon as hatched. 
 
 Some 8-9 inches long, with the short, round wings, short 
 pointed tail of soft feathers, and long slender toes, common 
 to all the Rails, but with the shorter, stouter bill, common 
 to the genius Porzana, it is olive-brown above, spotted with 
 black and streaked with white; space around the base of 
 the bill, and stripe down the throat and breast, black; sides 
 of the head, neck and breast, ash, shading into the olive- 
 brown above; flanks crossed with white and black or brown- 
 ish-gray; belly, white; under- tail coverts rufescent. The 
 young have the markings, especially those about the head, 
 somewhat obscure. 
 
 These Rails may move with prolonged and steady flight, 
 sometimes in flocks, spending the winter in the Southern 
 States and beyond. They have alighted on vessels far out 
 at sea. 
 
 In this genus Porzana, distinguishable from the genus 
 Rallus principally by the shortness of the bill, are the Yel- 
 low Rail (Porzana noveboracensis) and the Black Rail (Porzana 
 jamaicensis). They are both very small, about 5.00-6.00 long, 
 the latter being an extremely southern species, in fact, be- 
 longing more particularly to Central and South America, 
 and the former a rather rare one of Eastern North America, 
 sometimes going as far north as Hudson's Bay. It is occa- 
 sionally found in Western New York. The general color is 
 blackish, marked or varied with ochery-brown, the nar- 
 row white edges of the feathers appearing like semicircles, 
 while there are also narrow transverse bars of white, the 
 breast being ochery-brown and becoming light on the belly. 
 
444 THE WOODCOCK. 
 
 Audubon reported this little Rail as abundant in the ex- 
 treme Southern States, but it is now regarded as rather rare 
 throughout its range. The above author gives its nest as 
 made in a tussock of grass, and its eggs as white. Dr. 
 Coues describes a set of the eggs in the Smithsonian Insti- 
 tution as " rich, warm, buffy- brown, marked at the great 
 end with a cluster of reddish-chocolate dots and spots. 
 Size 1.15 x- 85 to 1.05 x. 80." 
 
 The rare eggs of the little Black Rail, which have been 
 found .as far north as New Jersey, "are creamy- white, 
 sprinkled all over with fine dots of rich, bright, reddish- 
 brown, and with a few spots, of some little size, at the great 
 end. * * * Dimensions 1.05X.80." 
 
 The head and under parts of this bird are grayish-black, 
 the upper parts black, speckled with white, the lower neck 
 and upper back being dark chestnut; feet, yellowish-green. 
 
 The general habits of these two species would seem to be 
 like those of the rest of the family. 
 
 THE WOODCOCK. 
 
 As I traverse this marsh about Burnt-ship Creek, on these 
 hot, dry days of late August, I every now and then start up 
 a Woodcock. Rising a little above the tops of the grasses, 
 it appears but for a few seconds and then drops out of sight, 
 so that it requires a remarkably quick and good aim to 
 shoot it while describing its short and sudden curve, slow 
 as its flight appears. Probably no bird is so well known to 
 the sportsmen of Eastern North America as the Woodcock 
 (Philohela minor'). Its flesh is in great requisition for the 
 table, and, as it shelters itself closely, lies well to the dog, 
 and affords a tempting shot on the wing, its capture is a 
 most agreeable excitement. Its habit, too, of changing 
 place according to the weather makes the finding of it a 
 
446 THE WOODCOCK. 
 
 study; while its sudden appearance in large numbers, or its 
 entire disappearance all at once, gives its capture the air of 
 chance. Reaching Western New York about the first of 
 April, this bird resorts to the swamps, low woods, thickets, 
 or the hill-sides. 
 
 In this region the nidification of the Woodcock occurs in 
 the latter part of April. The nest is on the ground, in some 
 low woods or thicket, sheltered by a bush, or bunch of grass, 
 or ferns, is formed, quite indifferently, of dried leaves or 
 grasses, and contains four or five eggs, some 1.51 x 1.19, and 
 "much more oval than the eggs of allied birds. They are a 
 light creamish-brown, pretty well spotted, especially around 
 the large end, but not heavily blotched with reddish-brown 
 and lilac. I have now in my possession an egg of this 
 species which is almost round. 
 
 The young, nearly the color of brown chickens, run about 
 as soon as hatched. When in Nova Scotia last June (1883), 
 riding with a friend through a rather open woods, about the 
 15th, a female Woodcock rose from almost under the car- 
 riage wheels. Looking down I spied five half-grown young 
 ones squatting motionless within a few feet of the wheel- 
 track. Stopping the vehicle, I jumped out and went almost 
 near enough to touch them, when they rose and left in 
 haste, about as well able to fly as the parent. How did 
 they learn to "play 'possum" in this manner? 
 
 How the Woodcock feeds in the dusky twilight, or at 
 night; how neatly he bores the soft ground in quest of 
 earth-worms, or turns the leaves in search of his food; what 
 immense quantities he consumes; how he changes place, 
 from the swamp to the woods, to the hill-side, or to the 
 grain-fields, according to the weather or the season; how he 
 leaves us for the south when frosts set in all this has been 
 frequently and well noted alike by the ornithologist and 
 
THE WOODCOCK. 447 
 
 the sportsman; while the manner in which his haunts have 
 been studied and scoured with dog and gun, merely to 
 gratify the palate, or the love of shooting, is too well known 
 to need either note or comment, except by way of earnest 
 deprecation. 
 
 The shape of the Woodcock is unlike that of any other 
 bird. Some eleven or twelve inches long the male being 
 quite a good deal less with a bill nearly three inches long, 
 and deep and strong at the base, his legs and tail uncommonly 
 short, his whole body, including head and neck, thick and 
 bulky, and his large black eyes so near the back of his 
 head, complete the oddness of his personal appearance. On 
 the whole, he makes one think of a short, thick man in a 
 swallow-tail coat; and his eyes are so placed that he can see 
 above and behind about as well as before. Did the Creator 
 locate his eyes in anticipation of the merciless manner in 
 which he is hunted down? The Woodcock is far from being 
 unpleasing, however, in his general appearance. The light 
 chestnut feathers of the under parts, delicately fringed with 
 lighter; the white patch on the throat, shading into the adjoin- 
 ing tints; the bright drab on the head, the sides of the neck, 
 and mixed in with the fine pencilings of wings and tail; the 
 velvety black from the eye to the mouth, and below the 
 former, on the back of the head, and adown the back, 
 scapulars, and tail, all so finely tipped and penciled with 
 drab and light red as to appear fairly illuminated all these 
 render the bird an object of no common beauty. 
 
 Differing from the European Woodcock in size being ^3 
 less, also in marking and in structure, particularly in the 
 narrowness of the first three primaries, our Woodcock is a 
 common bird of the Eastern United States, and extends 
 quite commonly, as a summer resident, into New Brunswick 
 and Nova Scotia. Audubon did not find it in Newfoundland 
 
448 THE PIGEON HA WK. 
 
 and Labrador, but was told that it bred in the former prov- 
 ince. Though found in the middle districts, even to South- 
 ern New England, in winter, this species generally finds its 
 home at that time in the sunnier climes of the Southern 
 States, and even there it is said to almost disappear, in any 
 locality, on the occurrence of a sharp frost. It also 
 breeds quite commonly in most, if not in all, parts of the 
 south. 
 
 THE PIGEON HAWK. 
 
 On the 28th of August, as my friend and I are seating 
 ourselves in the boat for a trip to Chippewa, Ontario, I have 
 no sooner removed the caps from my gun, for the sake of 
 safety, than a pair of beautiful Pigeon Hawks (Falco colum- 
 barius) make their appearance. First the one and then the 
 other hovers over us, just near enough for a good shot, but 
 before I can get ready they are gone. How provoking ! 
 Moral be always ready for a shot. Columbarius is, for the 
 most part, simply a rather common migrant in this locality, 
 though I am inclined to think a few breed here, as they are 
 supposed to do in Eastern Massachusetts. With notched 
 and toothed mandible, long pointed wings, having the outer 
 pinions narrowed on the inner vanes, tarsus more or less 
 feathered above, after the manner of the genus Falco, this 
 bird is 11-12 inches long; extent, 24.00; wing, 8.25; tail, 
 5.50; bill, .75; the male, the smaller, after the manner of the 
 birds of prey, is dark bluish-slate above, every feather hav- 
 ing a shaft-line of black; primaries black, tipped with 
 whitish; tail, light bluish-ash, nearly white on the inner 
 webs, tipped with whitish, with a deep subterminal band, and 
 several other narrower bands of black; forehead and throat 
 white; under parts and wing-linings, pale buff, streaked with 
 brown. Female similar, but tinted with brown above, and 
 having larger and darker markings below. 
 
THE PIGEON HA WK. 449 
 
 Following them in their migrations, columbarius subsists 
 mostly on the smaller birds, capturing them on the wing. 
 His northward movements are in April, and his southward in 
 September and October. Ensconced away in the bushes, 
 you may witness his deadly chase, as with astonishing speed, 
 darting to the right and left, he pursues some Thrush, Spar- 
 row, or Blackbird, or even a bird near his own size; striking 
 his claws into its vitals, on overtaking it, and devouring it 
 near the place of capture. He does not hover like the Spar- 
 row Hawk. Always taking his prey alive, he prefers an 
 open pasture or grove for his swift pursuit. Here he may 
 sit on his perch quietly awaiting his victim, and if he change 
 place, flying up a little when about to alight, he will turn 
 about and face his late site or route, and presently dropping 
 down, skim the ground almost as low as a Buzzard; not 
 in the same sailing manner, however, but with frequent 
 and nervous strokes of the wings. When, occasionally, he 
 does sail, it is in an uneasy, tipping style, which distin- 
 guishes him almost as readily as does the mottled appear- 
 ance under his wings. When he is satiated with his prey, 
 his destructiveness ceases; and those birds which are usually 
 his victims may disport themselves around him in perfect 
 safety. 
 
 The Pigeon Hawk's general breeding place is to the north- 
 ward. The nest, which may be on a rock, but more com- 
 monly in the hollow of a tree or in its branches, is made of 
 sticks and grasses; sometimes strips of bark are added, the 
 lining being of moss or feathers. The eggs, 4 or 5, some 1.65 
 X 1.30, are sometimes quite roundish, and again even elon- 
 gate-oval. u Coloration ranges from a nearly uniform deep, 
 rich brown (chestnut or burnt sienna), to whitish or white 
 only, marked with a few indistinct dots of dull grayish or 
 drab." (Stearns.) 
 29 
 
450 THE GREAT BLUE HERON. 
 
 THE GREAT BLUE HERON. 
 
 In the late dusk of evening, we are sure to see a pair of 
 Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias) pass up the river, 
 but a few rods out, and alight in the shallow margin of the 
 river just above our tent, thus affording a good view of a 
 very shy bird. They present an odd figure, as with enor- 
 mous spread of wings, legs dangling far out behind, and 
 neck extended, they fly just above the surface, hanking 
 somewhat after the manner of Wild Geese. Sometimes 
 they may be seen on this same spot in the clear light of 
 early morning, wading about and seizing and swallowing 
 their prey, apparently without the least circumspection; 
 sometimes standing at ease on one leg, the other being 
 drawn up, and the long neck folded closely on the breast, 
 while the eye gazes intently into the water. Quick as 
 thought the attitude is changed. The body is thrown forward 
 and the neck extended, while the head darts into the water; 
 the ill-fated fish which he brings up, impaled on his long, 
 pointed mandibles, disappears down his capacious gullet 
 with a few jerks of the head. How graceful is every atti- 
 tude and motion of this gigantic bird. And yet, when slain, 
 how ungainly he appears. Some 4 feet and several inches from 
 the tip of the bill to the end of the tail, and a foot longer 
 from the tip of the bill to the ends of the toes, the general 
 color is a delicate bluish-ash, the neck slightly tinged with 
 brown, and having a spotted or streaked throat-line adown 
 the front; the long, slender, almost thread-like, scapulars 
 and lower feathers of the neck, white; plumes of the head, 
 of which two, in the mature state, are long and filiform, 
 black; crown and throat, white; thighs and wing-shoulders, 
 brown; under parts, black, streaked with white; eyes and 
 bill, yellow. Male and female are alike, except that 
 the latter is smaller. The young are similar, lacking 
 
THE GREAT BLUE HERON. 
 
452 THE GREAT BLUE HERON. 
 
 the long ornamental feathers, and having the neck 
 spotted. 
 
 As this bird rises out of the water, it seems immense, and 
 requires many strong beats of its wings before obtaining 
 an easy flight. Once well on the wing, it moves majestically, 
 with a firm and regular stroke of the great wings, the neck 
 folded into a big lump, and the long legs extended behind 
 like an immense tail. Occupying, in summer, " entire tem- 
 perate North America," it ornaments the landscape of Nova 
 Scotia and New Brunswick about as commonly as that of 
 the Middle States, and occasionally puts in an appearance 
 even as far north as Hudson's Bay; thus differing from the 
 Herons in general, which incline to the tropics and warm, 
 temperate regions. 
 
 The food of herodias is fish, for the most part, but may 
 consist of frogs, mice and insects. Commonly breeding in 
 communities, sometimes singly, however, the nests are gen- 
 erally placed in the tops of tall trees, often in swamps 
 almost or quite inaccessible, and often in immense numbers. 
 Sometimes the communities of nests are placed in pine 
 forests some miles from any swamp or body of water, or 
 they may be near, or even on the ground. Along the Col- 
 orado River, where there is a lack of the large trees neces- 
 sary to support the immense bulk of the nest, these Her- 
 ons breed on the ledges of the gigantic walls of the can- 
 ons. In the Southern States Audubon often saw them on 
 cactuses. 
 
 The nest, some two feet in diameter, is of the platform 
 style, the lower part of sticks, the surface of a rather thick 
 bed of grasses, weeds and mosses. The eggs, two or three, 
 are about 2.50x1-50, elliptical, clear pale-greenish. These 
 Herons often fly immense distances to their feeding grounds, 
 and having selected certain places, seem to adhere to them 
 
THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 453 
 
 throughout the season. In the Southern States, where 
 these birds spend the winter, they often congregate in great 
 numbers. Here they also breed abundantly early in the 
 season.* 
 
 THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 
 
 As in the days of Wilson, the White-headed Eagle 
 (Haliaetus leucocephalus) is still a common and character- 
 istic bird of Niagara River throughout the year. Now, as 
 then, he may be seen soaring majestically in the great cloud 
 of spray ever rising from the cataract, or reconnoitering 
 the rapids, rushing along the sublime gorge, in search of 
 the ill-fated animals or birds which have perished in these 
 waters; or sailing serenely above the broad and beautiful 
 expanse of the river, from Queenstown Heights, to Lake 
 Ontario. Not infrequently he appears in the vicinity of my 
 tent, alighting in the adjoining grove, or flying low over 
 the troubled waters. 
 
 In appearance at least, this is, perhaps, the most magnifi- 
 cent bird of our continent. Closely allied to the Buzzards, 
 both in structure and in grandeur of flight, his rich, dark- 
 brown figure, adorned with snow-white head and tail, is 
 simply incomparable, while his great size and gigantic 
 spread of wings give him a peculiar majesty, whether he 
 beat the air in regular strokes, or sail in sublime repose. 
 Look at him, and reflect on human imbecility, as he soars 
 into the heavens, till he becomes a mere speck against the 
 ether! Imagine the extent of landscape of which he has 
 in very deed a "bird's-eye view." According to Audubon 
 he can sail entirely out of sight without a single stroke of 
 the wings. 
 
 * Similar to the former species, but several inches longer, and proportionately larger 
 every way, is the Florida Heron (Herodias wurdemanni). Its habits, too, are quite sim- 
 ilar. Its habitat would seem to be the Florida Keys; possibly it strays, occasionally, to 
 the mainland. "Known from the preceding species by th*; naked tibiae; white-top to 
 head; black forehead, and white under parts. (Maynard.) 
 
454 
 
 THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 
 
 Next to the Osprey, in his preference for a piscivorous 
 diet, he is ever to be associated with great bodies of water 
 broad rivers, immense lakes, and the roar and foam of the 
 
 ocean. Unlike that noble bird, however, he does not gen- 
 erally plunge into the wave for his prey, but is content with 
 the carcasses which float upon its surface. In the absence of 
 fish, he is satisfied with any animal food, and that, even in 
 
THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 455 
 
 the condition of carrion. Many graceful evolutions have I 
 seen him perform over the putrid carcass of a horse, floating 
 down the river. He has another noted habit, which not 
 only betrays a low taste, but a flagrant dishonesty that of 
 pilfering the hard-earned prey of the Fish Hawk. Mark 
 this king of birds, so high uplifted above all others of his 
 kind, that he seems enthroned among the clouds. One 
 would think him wrapt in the sublimest meditations, and 
 all unmindful of the hosts of feathered tribes which occupy 
 the ground and the different strata of the lower air; but, 
 lo! no sooner does the Osprey emerge from the waters with 
 his struggling prey, than that piercing eye detects him from 
 afar, and swoops upon him with terrific speed; and, not- 
 withstanding the swiftness and the splendid evolutions 
 achieved by Pandion^ he is soon so sorely pressed as to be 
 compelled to drop his prey and make off, saving nothing 
 but his disgust and indignation, which are riot infrequently 
 expressed by strong and significant cries. Meanwhile the 
 fish has scarcely escaped the talons of the Fish Hawk when 
 it is grappled by those of the Eagle and borne away for 
 destruction. 
 
 It is decidedly against my inclinations to disclose these 
 unseemly facts concerning the Eagle, especially as he has be- 
 come the symbol of our great nation; but as a narrator 
 of facts in natural history, I cannot be excused. The truth 
 is, that in niceness of habit, our sublime bird is by no 
 means the equal of many of his kindred Raptores; and, 
 while in general appearance he may fitly represent the glory 
 of a nation, on account of the manners above named, he is 
 by no means altogether suggestive of noble principles. Nor 
 is he always brave. Hence Dr. Franklin was not wholly in 
 favor of his adoption for our national seal. Sometimes, 
 however, glaring faults are quite thrown into the shade by 
 
456 THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 
 
 great virtues and gigantic proportions of character. In 
 later years, the history of a certain individual of our Hali- 
 aetus has fully vindicated the adoption of the Eagle to sym- 
 bolize the national glory of the United States, as well as the 
 adoption of its kind, for a similar purpose, by various na- 
 tions from the most ancient times, including Rome and 
 France. The famous Wisconsin Eagle, called " Old Abe," 
 has a history which fills a volume, and justly renders him 
 immortal. Taken, by the son of an Indian Chief, from a 
 nest in the northern part of the State, where an extensive 
 net-work of lakes and streams find their outlet, in the Chip- 
 pewa River, and reared by the same, he was sold, when two 
 months old, to a resident of Eau Claire, in August, 1861, for 
 a bushel of corn. This gentleman afterward sold him to 
 the Eighth Wisconsin Infantry. He was formally sworn 
 into the service, provided with a perch and bearer, and 
 passed three years in the hottest of the late war ; and pass- 
 ing through 36 battles and skirmishes, was brought back by 
 a mere remnant of his company, to his native State, un- 
 harmed. The intelligence he evinced in this grand career 
 was surprising. Avenging every insult, or even unwarrant- 
 able liberty, in the most signal, and sometimes ludicrous, 
 manner, he recognized friends with the utmost appreciation; 
 seeming to understand and sympathize with every move- 
 ment of his regiment. He would drop from his perch, when 
 the men lay down under a heavy firing from the enemy, 
 and mount it again when they rose. He would whistle in 
 expression of approval, and flap his wings at each round of 
 cheers or peal of music ; and, snapping asunder the cord 
 which bound him to his perch, would soar above the smoke 
 and din of battle, cheering his regiment with loud and most 
 significant screams; and afterward alighting on its standard, 
 would seem to participate in the joy of victory. After his 
 
THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 457 
 
 return from the battle-field, he was on exhibition in various 
 places where funds were being raised for suffering soldiers and 
 their families, and by September 25th, 1865, had been the 
 means of securing a fund of $25,000. The sum of $20,000 
 has been offered for him, and at the Centennial Exhibition 
 of 1876, at Philadelphia, he was an object of universal ad- 
 miration. Here he would stand on his perch in. such per- 
 fect repose as to puzzle a stranger to determine whether 
 he were a living bird or a specimen of taxidermy. In 
 this attitude, he reminded one of one way in which the 
 Eagle generally spends much of his time, namely, perched 
 on some conspicuous limb of a tall tree by a large stream 
 or body of water, and remaining as motionless as if wrapt 
 in profound meditation. We regret to say that Old Abe 
 has recently passed away. 
 
 The White-headed Eagle is about 3 feet long; body dark- 
 brown, tinged with golden, many of the feathers being 
 elegantly tipped with golden-yellow, strongly contrasting 
 with, and delicately shading into, the darker parts; head and 
 tail, snow-white; eyes and feet, bright yellow. The epithet 
 "Bald" has no foundation except in appearance, as the 
 head is well covered with long, pointed feathers. The 
 young have little or no white, and reach the mature plum- 
 age about the third year, or in some instances, it is thought, 
 not till some ten years. According to Coues, " the imma- 
 ture birds average larger than the adults; the famous 'Bird 
 of Washington ' being a case in point." 
 
 In structure and in general appearance the Eagle must be 
 regarded as the most perfect ideal of the birds of prey. In 
 repose or in motion, gracefulness, combined with strength, is 
 expressed to perfection. Whether associated with the gliding 
 stream, the placid lake, the tempest-tossed ocean, or the rug- 
 ged mountain, he is ever a grand ornament to the landscape. 
 
458 THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 
 
 The nest from which "Abe" was taken, found on a pine 
 tree near some rapids in a curve of the Flambeau River, 
 and big as a washtub, made of sticks, turf and weeds, and re- 
 moved to the Indian village to rear the young bird in, which 
 served as a plaything for the pappooses, may be regarded 
 as representative of the Eagle's nest in general. The two 
 eggs, about 3.00 X 2.50, are a dull white, and are laid very 
 early in spring, probably not later than the latter part of 
 March or the first days of April. In Michigan, I have seen 
 the young nearly as large as their parents, and about ready 
 to leave the nest by the last days of May. A curious 
 instance of nidification on the part of this species was 
 recently described to me by Mr. Herbert Macklem, of 
 Chippewa, Ontario. 
 
 On the bank of Niagara River, and owned by this gen- 
 tleman, was a farm which had not been occupied for several 
 years, and which was some miles distant from the nearest 
 residence. A missing board from the end of the barn giv- 
 ing access to a large quantity of straw in the mow, the 
 Eagles had arranged a nest there, which contained young 
 when discovered by the owner of the property. 
 
 The solicitude of the Eagle for its young cannot be 
 surpassed even by that of the human species. One or the 
 other of the parent birds seems to be constantly reconnoiter- 
 ing the neighborhood of the nest; and, on the least approach 
 of danger, they fly about with a most nervous and excited 
 beat of the wings, yelping like young puppies. Every now 
 and then they will alight in a tree by the nest, very soon 
 to drop down in an angry swoop toward the intruder. 
 
 As an instance of the attachment of the parent bird to 
 the young, Wilson gives the following: "A person near 
 Norfolk informed me that, in clearing a piece of wood on 
 his place, they met with a large, dead pine tree on which was 
 
FORT ERIE. 459 
 
 a Bald Eagle's nest and young. The tree being on fire 
 more than half way up, and the flames rapidly ascending, 
 the parent Eagle darted around and among the flames until 
 her plumage was so much injured that it was with difficulty 
 she could make her escape, and even then she several times 
 attempted to return to relieve her offspring." 
 
 The White-headed, or Bald Eagles, common to all North 
 America, and mating, in all probability, for life, are resident 
 throughout the year wherever the streams and bodies of 
 water are sufficiently open to afford sustenance. Eagles in 
 general have a remarkable longevity, reaching a hundred 
 years or upwards, even in confinement. This one, as well 
 as certain others of the world, is said to attack young 
 children occasionally. Wilson cites "a woman who, hap- 
 pening to be weeding in the garden, had set her child down 
 near, to amuse itself while she was at work, when a sudden 
 and extraordinary rushing sound, and a scream from her 
 child, alarmed her, and starting up, she beheld the infant 
 thrown down and dragged some few feet, and a large Bald 
 Eagle bearing off a fragment of its frock, which being the 
 only part seized, and giving way, providentially saved the 
 life of the infant." 
 
 FORT ERIE. 
 
 Changing the location of my tent to the government 
 grounds of Canada, near the remains of old Fort Erie, opposite 
 the city of Buffalo, I spend many days watching the Shore 
 Birds in their migrations. It is a beautiful spot, fanned 
 constantly, during these last days of dry summer heat, by 
 the most refreshing lake breezes. Here, too, where once 
 was all the roar of artillery in war, and in later times all 
 the rumble of a grand railroad terminus now removed, it is 
 most delightfully quiet. To the westward I look out 
 upon the broad expanse of Lake Erie; in the southern hori- 
 
460 FORT ERIE. 
 
 zon rise the distant mountains towards Pennsylvania; and 
 directly east is the city with all its mingled scenery. In 
 the morning a dense fog along the river and lake, like a 
 thick curtain, may shut off the view of the city entirely, 
 the din and noise of the great stirring community seeming 
 only the nearer for this obscurity. Later in the day the air 
 and sky are clear, beautiful and balmy; in the twilight, the 
 harvest moon hangs like a great fire-ball over the center of 
 the city; and in the evening, the lights of streets and dwell- 
 ings mark out a complete outline of the town. Day and 
 night I listen to the voices of the birds, most of which are 
 described elsewhere in this work. I have many fine views 
 of the earlier migrations of the land-birds, but am specially 
 interested in the movements of the little Waders, the differ- 
 ent kinds of which are about as well represented here as they 
 are on the sea-coast. 
 
 In the last days of August a flock of some nine of the Red- 
 breasted Snipe (Macrorhamphus griseus] appears, sometimes 
 called Gray Snipe, Brown-back, or Dowitcher. It is some 1 2.00 
 long and 19.00 in extent, the legs long, and the bill pre- 
 cisely like that of the Common Snipe; in summer the gen- 
 eral color is dark-brown, the feathers edged with reddish; 
 underneath dark-red, edged and mixed with dusky; tail and 
 coverts banded with black and white. In winter, gray above 
 and on the breast; the belly, eye-brow and lower eye-lid, 
 white. It is always distinguishable by its white shaft in the 
 outer primary. The nest is after the manner of the Snipe, 
 the eggs also being similar in color, and about 1.65X1.12. 
 
 About the same time, and for some six weeks later, an 
 occasional flock of the Pectoral Sandpiper (Tringa maculatd) 
 appears. Some 9.00 long and 16.50 in extent, the upper 
 parts are dark brown, the feathers generally edged or tipped 
 with yellowish or reddish; the brown tail, being darker in 
 
NIAGARA RIVER AND THE DUCKS. 461 
 
 the center, is tipped with white or whitish; the neck, breast 
 and sides, yellowish-gray, with dark streaks; legs greenish. 
 The breast marking is differentiating. It is sometimes 
 called the Jack Snipe. 
 
 Of very frequent appearance during these days is the 
 Sanderling or Ruddy Plover (Calidris arenarid). Some 7.50 
 long, it has the rather short, straight, grooved bill, and the 
 plain-colored tail of the Sandpipers. The upper parts are 
 light ashy, streaked with black, and edged with reddish in 
 summer, but not in winter; the under parts, from the neck, 
 are pure white, making each member of the flock a gleam- 
 ing white point in the landscape, as it tips up in flight. This 
 Beach-bird, as it is often called, is rather silent, appearing 
 singly or in flocks. Its flight is beautiful, and it walks, 
 wades and runs most gracefully on the shore. These Sand- 
 pipers, like their relatives, breed far to the north. 
 
 On a gray October day, a flock of some half-dozen little 
 Brown Titlarks (Anthus ludovicianus) alights in the shallow 
 water on the rocks and wash themselves. Some 6.50 long, 
 ashy-brown above, tinged with olive, the centers of 
 the feathers darker and the edges lighter; the outer tail- 
 feathers white; the eyelids, curved line on the cheeks, and 
 under parts, brownish or creamy-white ; the breast and 
 sides streaked with dusky-ash. This dainty, dove-like 
 walker, having a peculiar jerking, tossing motion of the tail, 
 breeds in Labrador and northward, and down to Colorado 
 in the Rocky Mountains. The 4-6 very dark-colored eggs 
 are laid " in a mossy nest on the ground." This bird passes 
 us early in May in its northward migration, and in October 
 southward. 
 
 NIAGARA RIVER AND THE DUCKS. 
 
 Niagara River is a good place to study the Ducks in the 
 times of migration, or even in the winter. As it does not 
 
462 NIAGARA RIVER AND THE DUCKS. 
 
 freeze over, some species remain from fall till spring. In 
 March, or early in April, about Grand Island, Buckhorn 
 and Navy Islands, the Golden-eye, or Whistler, is one of the 
 characteristics of the locality. It may be seen in fair-sized 
 flocks, or in immense ones of many hundreds, diving about 
 feeding places, after its usual manner of obtaining its 
 favorite cray-fish, the claws and other remains of which are 
 always to be found in its gizzard; to which diet it may add 
 small mollusks, frogs, tadpoles and fishes. When thus 
 engaged, and not in fear of molestation, they are indeed 
 a merry company, the very picture of soul and energy, 
 and thrifty contentment, each one staying under the 
 water a half minute at a time and remaining above only 
 about seven seconds. What a charm there is in watching 
 a Duck dive ! Every pulse of the observer is quickened as 
 the sprightly creature plunges under. Very frequently the 
 whole flock is under the water at once. Generally several 
 sentinels remain on guard. Every now and then, on 
 coming up, the male will throw up his head and utter a 
 low, guttural chuckle. This is probably his courting note, 
 and is the only vocal performance one hears from these 
 birds during their stay. They like to dive in swift currents 
 for their food, and then gradually work upward in the 
 stream. They are particularly at home in streams and 
 rivers, and visit the smaller as well as the larger currents. 
 The Golden-eye decoys well, especially any stray one which 
 may be flying about; but it is exceedingly shy and keen- 
 eyed. When the shot misses it on the water, or it is sud- 
 denly alarmed, it dives readily, darting out of the water in 
 a few seconds with surprising velocity. It is one of the 
 swiftest of all the Ducks in flight. Audubon estimated its 
 speed at ninety miles an hour. One is always advised of 
 its flight by the sharp whistling sound of its pointed wings, 
 
NIAGARA RIVER AND THE DUCKS. 463 
 
 which afe almost of metallic firmness. Choo-choo-choo-choo- 
 choo-choo, given as rapidly as possible, may recall the start- 
 ling sound, which soon becomes very familiar, and may be 
 heard distinctly some half a mile or more. The beat of the 
 wings is so rapid that, as the bird flies from you, the white 
 secondaries form a hazy semicircle on each side of the dark 
 posterior of the body, the black primaries adding still 
 larger semicircles beyond. When flying past, the oval spot 
 of white at the base of the bill of the male, contrasting 
 with the dark, glossy green of the head, and the white 
 neck, the body being black above and behind, readily differen- 
 tiate the species. The female, having a dark-brown head 
 without the spot at the base of the bill, and having a light- 
 gray neck and darker gray or dusky pectoral band, is 
 known by her relation to the male, and is much smaller 
 than her more striking consort. The body is short, the 
 bill short and stubbed, almost as nearly like a lamb's 
 nose as a Duck's bill, and the head is rather thick. The 
 golden-yellow iris is a striking mark of the bird, and the 
 orange feet with dusky webs soon become familiar to the 
 eye. The food of this species is such as not to render it a 
 favorite on the table, though it is generally eaten. Dimin- 
 ishing in numbers already in the middle of April, a few 
 linger in New York as late as the 20th of May; and except 
 in the case of stray birds, the breeding place is far to the 
 north. Mr. Fortiscue reports it as breeding in trees along 
 Nelson River, and it is said to breed in a similar manner 
 in Newfoundland and in Northern New England. The 6-10 
 eggs, spherical and ashy-green, are some 2. 38 x 1.78. The 
 annual range of the common Golden-eye (Bucephala clan- 
 guld) is throughout North America and Europe. 
 
 Barrow's Golden-eye (B. islandica) is now well differen- 
 tiated as a closely-allied species. For this conclusion much 
 
464 THE LONG-TAILED DUCK. 
 
 credit is due Dr. Gilpin, of Halifax, N. S., whose patient 
 investigation was so satisfactory in its results. The data of 
 determination are: 1st, difference in size; the common 
 Golden-eye (the male) being some 19 or 20 inches in length, 
 while Barrow's Golden-eye is several inches longer; 2d, 
 marked difference in the shape of the bill and head; that of 
 islandica being noticeably high at the base, short and 
 pointed; 3d, in marking; the white spot at the base of the 
 bill in clangula being oval, while it is triangular or crescent- 
 shaped in islandica, with a difference also in the wing mark- 
 ings; 4th, and, particularly, in the shape of the trachea; the 
 peculiar and irregular enlargement so marked in clangula, 
 being much moderated in islandica. (See "the Golden-eyes 
 or Garrot's in Nova Scotia," by Dr. J. Bernard Gilpin.) 
 
 Islandica was first found in the Rocky Mountains, but has 
 since occurred frequently on the Atlantic Coast in winter, 
 even as far south as New York. 
 
 THE LONG-TAILED DUCK. 
 
 Most common, from fall till spring, on the Niagara River, 
 is the sight and sound of the Long-tailed Duck (Harelda gla- 
 cialis] alias, Old Wife, South-southerly Coween, or Ha-ha-we, 
 as the Indians at Hudson's Bay call it. Though almost use- 
 less for the table, on account of its molluscous and fishy 
 diet, its beauty and individual peculiarities always render 
 it an object of interest to the sportsman. Its body, so short 
 and thick that it is almost round, bill unusually short and 
 small, neck thick, and central feathers of the tail long, the 
 form is well characterized; the black bill banded with 
 orange near the tip; the iris of bright carmine; the head 
 and neck well down upon the back, white; cheeks and fore- 
 head of light drab running into a large black patch on the 
 sides of the neck, which patch shades again into brown; 
 
THE LONG-TAILED DUCK. 465 
 
 breast and upper parts, except the dark chestnut secon- 
 daries and bluish-white scapulars and tertiaries, elegantly 
 elongated, black; pointed tail feathers, except the four elon- 
 gated central ones, and under parts, white; sides, light drab; 
 feet and legs, dark slate all these striking contrasts in 
 color render the male, in winter plumage, conspicuous and 
 beautiful. In summer the head and neck become dark, 
 and the scapulars and tertials black, edged with chestnut. 
 Late in April or early in May, some may be found scarcely 
 changed from the winter habit, and others may be almost 
 conformed to the summer dress. 
 
 The female, with shortened tail feathers, being but 16.00 
 long, is grayish-brown, many of the feathers being edged 
 with whitish; spot around the eye, sides of the neck and 
 breast, grayish-white, the latter becoming clear white on 
 the belly. In winter the head and neck of the female may 
 be nearly white. This species spends the winter as far north 
 as ice and snow will permit, and is our only Duck which, like 
 certain other birds and certain animals of the north, whitens 
 with the winter and becomes dark again in summer; hence 
 the propriety of its name glacialis, or hiemalis, meaning 
 Winter or Ice Duck; and the name commends itself to us 
 especially, as we see it swimming and diving, as if perfectly 
 at home, in the midst of floating ice and driving snow- 
 storms. 
 
 Its feet placed far behind, an accommodation in diving, it 
 keeps to the deep channels of the river, drifting down the 
 rapid current as it dives deep down incessantly for its food, 
 and then flies up the river to test the ground over again. 
 The third day of last April (1882) was one never to be for- 
 gotten. Perfectly calm, and with a cloudless sunshine, the 
 air was so warm as to cause a white vapor over the whole 
 surface of the river, rendering the scenery just above Niag- 
 30 
 
466 THE LONG-TAILED DUCK. 
 
 ara Falls particularly soft and beautiful. Above the monot- 
 onous roar of the cataract, and loud and clear in every di- 
 rection, could be heard the peculiar notes of the Old Wives; 
 and as they were very numerous, the rather musical clamor 
 was quite impressive. Now a flock would appear at one 
 point, whitening the river and making the air resonant for 
 many rods around them; and then, as they disappeared be- 
 neath the smooth, silvery current, another flock, emerging 
 in the vicinity, would attract equal attention. At any time 
 many flocks might be within range of the eye. Nothing in 
 the way of sound could be more strongly characterized than 
 the vocal performance of this bird. To my ear it does not 
 recall the common name " South-southerly," given it on 
 the Atlantic Coast, but is well expressed by an epithet given 
 it by the Germans about Niagara River, who call it the 
 *' Ow-owly." Ow-ow-ly, ow-ow-ly, ow-ow-ly, frequently re- 
 peated in successsion, the first two notes considerably 
 mouthed, and the last syllable in a high, shrill, clarion tone, 
 may suggest the queer notes to any one whose ear is fa- 
 miliar with them. Not infrequently the last syllable is left 
 out of the ditty, the bird seeming somewhat in a hurry, or 
 the note becomes a mere nasal ah, a/i, ah, rapidly uttered. 
 The great enlargement in the wind-pipe of the male has 
 been supposed to account for these loud tones; but the 
 female, which is regarded as much the noisier, is without 
 that peculiarity. Always accounted a sea Duck, and not re- 
 ported by Coues from the northwest, it would appear rather 
 strange that it should be so common on the Great Lakes, 
 unless we regard this region as the winter habitat of those 
 spending the summer about Hudson's Bay. It will not al- 
 ways decoy for the sportsman, but with a little caution he 
 may row or drift upon it near enough for a shot, and as it 
 flies but a short distance when alarmed, and then drops 
 
THE RED-HEADED DUCK. 467 
 
 into the water again, he may continue to steal upon the 
 flock till he has satisfied his disposition for slaughter. Mr. 
 James Fortiscue, my very interesting correspondent at 
 York Factory, Hudson's Bay, says that in that locality these 
 birds breed " on islands in lakes." 
 
 The nest is similar to that of the Scoters; the eggs, about 
 2.12X1.56, being "pale, yellowish-green." 
 
 Wintering with us as far south as New Jersey, this species 
 ranges throughout the northern hemisphere. 
 
 THE RED-HEADED DUCK. 
 
 On the 30th of March (1882), while Niagara River was 
 lashed into a tempest by a raw west wind, I saw from the 
 north side of Buckhorn Island a flock of hundreds of Red- 
 heads (Fuligula ferind] riding down the middle of the cur- 
 rent in the most perfect repose. Nearly every one had the 
 head resting on the back, the bill under the scapulars. 
 Only occasionally was there one which seemed to act as sen- 
 tinel. Several Widgeons also, whose white crowns rendered 
 them quite conspicuous, were in the flock. There was 
 something very impressive in this long line, many abreast, 
 of living creatures, rocked and tossed on the foaming 
 breakers, and yet reposing as sweetly as if on some quiet 
 inland lake. Long did I scan them, and much did I admire 
 them, as the field-glass brought them just before me. 
 
 A more complete study of these interesting Ducks was 
 reserved for me, however, on St. Clair Flats. Here they 
 are very abundant in the migrations, and not a few remain 
 to breed. In the bright, hot days of June, small flocks may 
 be seen diving leisurely for food, along the deeper and more 
 rapid channels, thus procuring their fare of small mollusks 
 and fishes, the larvae of aquatic insects, and the roots and 
 leaves of certain aquatic plants. Not infrequently the 
 
468 THE RED-HEADED DUCK. 
 
 males are quite noisy, loudly uttering their deep-toned 
 me-ow, which is the precise imitation of the voice of a large 
 cat. The female, especially, if rising from her nest or out 
 of the water, has a loud, clear squak, on a higher tone than 
 that of the Mallard or Dusky Duck, and so peculiar as to 
 be readily identified by the ear, even if the bird is not in 
 sight. The gray aspect of the wings in flight is also very 
 characteristic of this species. The nest is generally built 
 in the thick sedges over the water, and consists of the 
 leaves of the cat-tail and of various kinds of marsh-grass, 
 a slight lining of down being added as incubation pro- 
 ceeds. The eggs, generally about 9 or 10, but sometimes 
 as many as 15, some 2.45 X 1.75, are nearly oval or 
 oblong-oval, having a very smooth, firm shell, and being 
 of a rich light-brown tinge, sometimes slightly clouded; 
 scarcely if ever tinged with blue or green. When moist- 
 ened a little and rubbed with a dry cloth, they are sus- 
 ceptible of a high polish. The young, in the down, has 
 the crown of the head and the upper parts, generally, of 
 a clear, olivaceous green, the cheeks and under parts, bright 
 yellow. The eggs are fresh, or nearly so, the first week 
 in June. 
 
 A stately and beautiful bird indeed is the male, as, with 
 head well up, he rides upon the water. A little over 20 
 inches in length, the bill, which is about as long as the head 
 and rather broad, is blue, shading into dusky or black at 
 the tip; the male has the head and more than half of the 
 neck brownish-red, with a violaceous gloss above and behind; 
 the lower part of the neck, the breast, upper and lower 
 parts of the back, black; beneath, white sprinkled with 
 gray or dusky; sides, scapulars and space between, white 
 and black in fine wavy lines of equal width, giving a gray 
 effect in the distance; wing-coverts gray, specked with 
 
THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 459 
 
 whitish; speculum, grayish-blue; iris, orange. Female sim- 
 ilar, with the head and neck grayish-brown, and the breast 
 more or less mixed with gray or whitish. 
 
 Resembling the Canvas-back, it is quite distinguishable 
 by its shorter, broader bill,depression at the base of the bill, 
 absence of black on the head and back of the neck, and 
 broader lines of black in the penciling of the back. Abun- 
 dant on the sea-coast of the middle districts, but becoming 
 less common northward and southward, it breeds in the in- 
 terior northward, moving southward in October, and return- 
 ing north late in March or early in April. 
 
 THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 
 
 Perhaps the most celebrated of all American water-fowl, 
 to the sportsman and to the epicure, is the Canvas-back Duck 
 (Fuligula vallisnerid). Lacking the brilliancy of the Wood 
 Duck, and the striking contrasts in color of certain others 
 of our fresh water Ducks, nor possessing the diving accom- 
 plishments and the wealth in down of the Eider, its great 
 desideratum and interest consists wholly in its flesh, sup- 
 posed by many to possess a peculiar juiciness and delicious 
 flavor, especially after having fed for a time on its favorite 
 v&llisntria, a fresh water plant, very abundant in the waters of 
 the Chesapeake and its tributaries, and also in the Susque- 
 hanna. Some think, however, that " the fine flavor which 
 the flesh of these Ducks is said to possess is probably due 
 partly to the imagination of those who pay high prices for 
 the privilege of eating it," its flesh being even " dry and 
 fishy " when it has been deprived for a time of its favorite 
 food, and obliged to resort to the more common bill of fare 
 for most other Ducks small mollusks and fishes, with an 
 occasional tadpole or leech. 
 
 About 2 feet long and 3 in extent, the high crown 
 
470 THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK. 
 
 slopes gradually with a slight curve upward to the tip of 
 the rather long and narrow bill, thus strongly characteriz- 
 ing the head as compared with that of other Ducks. The 
 bill is greenish-black; at the base of the bill, on the crown, 
 and down over the back of the rich brownish-red head and 
 neck, is a dusky effect, deepening into fine black in the zone 
 about the breast and upper back; upper parts and sides, 
 white, or grayish-white, with delicate zigzag cross-pencil- 
 ings of black; secondaries darker, but similar; underneath, 
 white; posterior, dark; feet, bluish; iris, carmine. The 
 female is similar, with colors less bright, and markings less 
 distinct. 
 
 Diving deep with utmost readiness, swimming rapidly, 
 straightforward and swift in flight, and exceedingly wary, 
 this species is not easily captured. Rare in New England, 
 and not abundant in the extreme south, its chief winter 
 resort is that famous rendezvous of water-fowl from fall 
 till spring the Chesapeake Bay with its many rivers. How 
 the Canvas-back is shot here in immense numbers as well 
 as hosts of other Ducks from points during flight, by 
 "tolling in " with the aid of dogs running up and down the 
 shore, and thus enticing the birds in from curiosity, from 
 batteries and by paddling stealthily upon them during the 
 night, many writers, among sportsmen and ornithologists, 
 have fully described. Very exciting, indeed, it must be to 
 lie concealed on shore, and see the "rafts" of Ducks slowly 
 enticed in, while the little bright-colored dog, aided, it may 
 be, by a red or white handkerchief tied to his tail, runs up 
 and down the bank; or to watch the floating decoys from 
 the box-like battery, sunken to the water's edge far out from 
 shore, and then to fire into the immense flocks, hovering or 
 alighting, as they fly up and. down this concourse of waters! 
 The latter mode, however, would seem to be too much like 
 
THE RUDDY DUCK. 471 
 
 slaughter, to be approved by that gallant sportsmanship, 
 which always seeks to give the bird "a chance for its life." 
 
 The great thoroughfare of the Canvas-back in migration, 
 like that of many of our river Ducks, is along the interior 
 of our continent; and its breeding habitat is in the great 
 northwest, especially about the cool waters in the higher 
 latitudes of the Rocky Mountains and vicinity. 
 
 Early in spring or late in the fall, or perhaps even in mid- 
 winter, it is sometimes taken on Niagara River, and for a 
 short time in the spring and fall migrations it is common 
 on St. Clair Flats. This is particularly an American species, 
 resembling, however, our Red-head and the European 
 Pochard. 
 
 THE RUDDY DUCK. 
 
 Common, and sometimes abundant, on Niagara River 
 during the migrations, is the Ruddy Duck (Erismatura 
 rubidd]. An anomaly of its kind is this little creature. 
 Some 15 long and 21.50 in extent, it has a peculiarly short 
 and almost round appearance; the long and gradual curve 
 of the crown, joined to a bill rather short, broad and much 
 depressed, is a marked feature; the rather long and broad 
 tail, with scarcely any coverts above or below, is decidedly 
 out of order for a Duck; the broad tip of the wing, so ap- 
 parent in flight, would seem more in place for a Coot or a 
 Gallinule; the striking seasonal change of plumage in the 
 male would do for a Gull or a Grebe; the large egg, with 
 granulated shell, might be mistaken for that of a Goose; 
 while its diving propensities would do credit to a Dabchick. 
 
 Look at that elegant male, as he floats on the smooth sur- 
 face of some fresh-water channel in the breeding season! 
 Almost as motionless as a wooden decoy, he holds his large 
 and full spread tail straight up, often catching the wind 
 just in the right direction, and thus using that appendage 
 
472 THE RUDDY DUCK. 
 
 for a sail. Jet-black over the crown and down the back of 
 the neck, cheeks clear white, the remaining upper parts a 
 bright, glossy dark-red, he is a well-defined object even in 
 the distance. The female which the male resembles pre- 
 cisely, from fall till spring is a dark brownish-gray, the 
 throat and broad stripe through the eye lighter, both sexes 
 being white, or white mottled with gray, underneath. The 
 young are a little lighter than the female. Except in its 
 sojourn in the south in winter, where it may be seen in im- 
 mense flocks, especially in Florida, it is generally in small 
 flocks after the manner of the Buffi e-head. When rising 
 from the water, it runs on the surface for some distance, 
 and generally against the wind. If it cannot command a 
 fair open space for flight, it will dive, using its tail either as 
 a rudder or as a paddle in a vertical motion, and will hide 
 itself away among the grass and sedges. When on the wing 
 it flies low along the surface of the water, with a rapid beat of 
 its broad wings, making a short, plump figure quite uncom- 
 mon for a Duck; and it generally flies quite a distance 
 before alighting. 
 
 Though not averse to the molluscous and piscatorial diet 
 of the sea Duck, and often found on bays and marshes of 
 the sea shore, its principal range is in the interior; and it 
 prefers, as a diet, the leaves and roots of certain aquatic 
 vegetation, for which it dives after the manner of the Fuli- 
 gulin<z. 
 
 Not a few of this species remain on St. Clair Flats through- 
 out the breeding season. The nest, built some time in June, 
 is placed in the sedges or marsh-grass over the water; and 
 may contain as many as ten eggs, remarkably large for the 
 size of the bird (2.50x1.^5), oval or slightly ovate, the 
 finely granulated shell being almost pure white, tinged with 
 the slightest shade of grayish-blue. The nest may be quite 
 
THE RUDDY DUCK. 473 
 
 well built of fine colored grasses, circularly laid, or simply 
 a mere matting together of the tops of the green marsh- 
 grass, with a slight addition of some dry flexible material. I 
 found one nest on a hollow side of a floating log. It con- 
 sisted of a few dried grasses and rushes laid in a loose cir- 
 cle. Indeed, the bird inclines to build a very slight nest. 
 
 As well try to catch a weasel asleep as to see this bird 
 leave the nest. Mr. W. H. Collins, however, a well-known 
 taxidermist, of Detroit, Mich., to whom the credit is due 
 of first discovering the nidification of this species in our 
 neighborhood, after carefully identifying the absent bird 
 by the feathers in a well incubated nest, afterwards saw 
 her leave it. She scrambled off like a mud-turtle from a log, 
 and diving from the edge of the nest, which, as usual was 
 over the water, swam in clear sight under the bow of his 
 boat. From personal investigation I have satisfied myself 
 of the accuracy of his painstaking observation. The Ruddy 
 Duck is nearly noiseless, occasionally uttering a weak 
 squak. Its habitat is North America at large. 
 
 The Gad wall or Gray Duck (Chaulelasmus streperus), a 
 species of almost world-wide distribution, is about the 
 rarest river Duck on the Niagara. Indeed it is particu- 
 larly a species of the western interior, being abundant 
 in Missouri, and in the regions of the Mississippi generally. 
 As with most others of our river or non-diving Ducks, 
 Audubon satisfied himself as to its breeding in Texas, and 
 there is pretty conclusive evidence that its summer habitat 
 does not extend to the extreme north. Probably the re- 
 gions of the upper Mississippi and Missouri are its principal 
 breeding grounds. Its nest is made on the ground, in marshy 
 places, and is composed of sticks, weeds and grasses; the 6-10 
 smooth, elliptical, cream-colored eggs measuring about 
 2.00X1.50. 
 
474 THE SHOVELLER. 
 
 Some 20.00 long and 30.00 in extent, most of the plumage 
 is finely barred with black and white, giving a general 
 gray effect; middle wing coverts, chestnut ; greater ones, 
 black; speculum, white. The species may always be differ- 
 entiated by the wing. 
 
 THE SHOVELLER. 
 
 A highly specialized form, in nature, is a Duck's bill; and 
 so completely do form and function correspond therein, that 
 it may be impossible to conceive of adaptation more per- 
 fect. The head, or the entire body, being immersed in the 
 act of feeding, and that often to a great depth, or in turbid 
 water, the food, which itself is often found in the mud, 
 must be selected in great part, at least, without the aid of 
 sight; the sensibilities of touch and taste, therefore, are 
 particularly requisite. To render these faculties of percep- 
 tion as acute as possible, the soft, fleshy tongue, the carne- 
 ous interior of the mouth in general, and the soft, sensitive 
 exterior of the bill are well supplied with a complicated 
 system of nerves, thus enabling the bird to detect its food 
 by the sense of feeling, and probably even by the sense of 
 taste. The broad bill, with its, finely lamellate edges, serves 
 as a sort of sieve or strainer, to retain the proper articles of 
 diet, while the foreign or extraneous matter is allowed to 
 escape ; the Duck thus feeding somewhat after the manner 
 of the Baleen or Right Whale. Though constructed on the 
 same general plan, the bills of the various species of Ducks 
 include a great variety of patterns. Some, as those of the 
 Old Wives and the Pintails, are quite small, whereas, 
 in many of the river Ducks, the bills are large and broad. 
 The most exaggerated, both in size and form, is that of the 
 rather small river Duck called the Shoveller {Spatula clypeatd). 
 Though but little larger than a Teal, its bill is quite a little 
 
THE SHOVELLER. 475 
 
 longer than that of the Mallard or the Eider, and nearly twice 
 as broad at the tip as it is at the base, thus giving the spe- 
 cies a very peculiar and almost awkward appearance. The 
 tongue, and a prominent ridge along the deeply concave roof 
 of the mouth, are well provided with large and rather pecul- 
 iarly formed papillae, in order to augment the sensitiveness 
 of touch and taste. The large lamellae along the edges 
 of the immense bill give the bird a peculiar grinning 
 aspect. 
 
 The comparatively long measurement for the weight, 
 nearly or quite 20 inches, is due partly to the slender body, 
 but more especially to the long bill and tail. The bill is dark; 
 the head and upper part of the neck, blackish, with green 
 and purplish reflections; the color by no means pure, how- 
 ever; the lower neck, upper breast, anterior scapulars, longi- 
 tudinal stripes in the long posterior scapulars, patch on each 
 side of the rump, and band towards the tail, white ; stripe 
 down the back of the neck, and the back, gray-brown, the 
 feathers edged with lighter; rump and upper tail coverts, 
 greenish-black ; outer edge of the long tertials, and the 
 smaller wing-coverts, ultra-marine-blue; speculum, violet- 
 green; the rest of the wings, dusky; tail feathers, white, 
 with brown line along the shaft; under parts, dark chestnut, 
 lighter and somewhat spotted and barred on the sides; iris, 
 yellow; feet, orange ; the mature male, thus described, is a 
 conspicuous and pleasing object on the water. Female, 
 brown above, each feather edged with lighter; the throat, 
 sides of the head, and under parts generally, light-brown. 
 
 The nest of this species is on the ground near the water, 
 and is built of the coarse materials commonly used by 
 Ducks. The eggs, some 8 or 10 in number, and about 2.07 
 XI. 47, are a dark-cream or light-brown, not infrequently 
 tinged with ashy-gray. 
 
476 THE BONAPARTE GULL, 
 
 This fresh water, or river Duck, occurring sparingly in the 
 east, is abundant in the west, breeding from Texas to 
 Alaska. 
 
 THE BONAPARTE .GULL. 
 
 Here let me mention a very conspicuous and beautiful 
 bird, which appears on the river along with the Ducks in 
 spring and also in the fall the Bonaparte Gull (Chroicoceph- 
 alus Philadelphia). Some 12-14 inches long, with a bill as 
 slender as that of a Tern, the mantle is an elegant pearly or 
 silvery-gray; head dusky-slate, appearing black in the dis- 
 tance; the eye-lids marked with white; bill, black; neck, under 
 parts, tail and front of the wing, white; the wing having 
 the outer web of the first primary, also the edge of the 
 second or even the third, and the ends of the primaries gen- 
 erally, except the extreme white tips, black; feet, orange. 
 In winter there is no hood, but a gray spot on the side of 
 the head. The young are mottled with brownish or grayish 
 above, having a dark bar on the wing, and a black band on 
 the tail. 
 
 Appearing about the middle of April, this species some- 
 times becomes very abundant for a month or more, flying 
 leisurely up and down the river in larger or smaller flocks, 
 and subsisting on small fish which they take by dropping 
 lightly on the surface. The flight is easy and graceful, each 
 stroke of the long, pointed wings throwing the body up a 
 little, while the bird peers this way and that way in quest of 
 its small prey. If it fly towards one, the white front of 
 its wings, added to its white breast and neck, gives it the 
 appearance of a white bird with a black head. It often has 
 a noticeable way of turning partly around or cutting back- 
 ward, as it drops down in securing some object suddenly de- 
 tected on or near the surface, thus making it appear decid- 
 edly lithe and agile on the wing. Occasionally it may alight 
 
THE BONAPARTE GULL. 477 
 
 on objects along the shore, and often rides down the cur- 
 rent on floating bits of board, sometimes ten or a dozen 
 standing closely side by side in a row. Then they utter an 
 occasional soft conversational note, as if quietly enjoying 
 each other's company, and affording a most beautiful and 
 instructive picture of happy contentedness. Not infre- 
 quently they swim, or rather float, literally on the water, 
 their light forms scarcely pressing below the surface. The 
 harmony and effect of their chaste colors, in such pleasing 
 contrast, when compared with the bright green tints of our 
 beautiful river, are strikingly elegant; and never is the Ni- 
 agara so charming as when ornamented with clouds of 
 these gentle, graceful, little creatures. The immature birds, 
 some of which spend the summer on St. Clair Flats, linger 
 here some time after those in mature plumage have gone 
 northward. Some light has lately been thrown on the nid- 
 ification of this species, a matter on which the books have 
 heretofore been almost silent; notwithstanding the common- 
 ness of the bird on the sea-coast and in the interior during 
 the migrations. The annual report of the Canadian gov- 
 ernment for the Department of the Interior, issued 1880, 
 gives Gull Lake, north of Cypress Hill and Bullrush Lake, 
 as localities where this Gull breeds commonly; and Mr. 
 Fortiscue reports it as breeding on Hudson's Bay. 
 
 It was the 18th of October last (1883), that the fall flight 
 of Ducks fairly set in on the Niagara. The ripe brilliancy of 
 our autumn scenery had just reached its climax. The 
 groves on Grand Island were like bright bouquets of many 
 colors. The top of the large soft maple, under which I had 
 placed my tent on Buckhorn Island, seemed like a crimson 
 flame; and it was surrounded by every shade of scarlet, 
 orange, amber, and gold, and even the rich green of sum- 
 
478 THE SURF DUCK. 
 
 mer. The river was in its most placid mood, its waters of 
 half a continent moving on with a quiet force, that did not 
 stir the smallest ripple on its surface. The sky was veiled 
 in a soft hazy curtain of gray, and the air was motionless. 
 The river, like a great mirror, doubling the gorgeous land- 
 scape, reflected immense flocks of Ducks, flying high, now 
 in long lines and varying angles, and now in graceful curves. 
 Only occasionally did a flock drop down within shot-range; 
 then, as they rushed by our boat in the sedges, their many 
 wings sounding like a storm-sough in the trees, they almost 
 invariably proved to be Red-heads. 
 
 THE SURF DUCK. 
 
 But the Ducks were not all in the air. Here and there 
 on the glassy surface small flocks would appear as if by 
 apparition. Among these were many of the Ruddy Ducks, 
 whose passage would seem to be about as much by water 
 as through the air. This coming up out of the depths at 
 any point adds a great mystery to the coy life of certain 
 species. Every sense is on the alert, for you do not know at 
 what moment some strange thing may "turn up." So it 
 was on this morning of the 18th. There appeared sud- 
 denly, almost under the bow of my boat, three dark-colored 
 Ducks, of a form wholly new; the most striking feature 
 being the large head, and long bill thick at the base. They 
 were young birds, and so tame, that it seemed as if I might 
 row my boat up to them and take them in my hand. They 
 proved to be the Surf Duck (GELdemia perspicillata), which are 
 not uncommon on these waters in the autumn; occasionally, 
 indeed, being found here even in spring. It also occurs 
 quite commonly as a transient autumn migrant on the 
 beautiful lakes of Central New York. It is, however, par- 
 ticularly an ocean Duck, feeding on small mollusks and 
 
THE SCOTER. 479 
 
 fishes, for which it "dives almost constantly, both in the 
 sandy bays and amidst the tumbling surf," sometimes " fish- 
 ing at the depth of several fathoms," and " floating buoy- 
 antly among the surf of the raging billows, where it seems 
 as unconcerned as if it were on the most tranquil waters." 
 In winter its dark figure is common along the whole Atlan- 
 tic Coast, it being often abundant about Long Island and 
 southward. Taking up its northern migration early in 
 spring, it breeds from Labrador northward, and also on 
 Hudson's Bay; in the latter locality, according to Mr. Jas. 
 Fortiscue, "on islands out to sea, hatching on bare rocks 
 close to water." 
 
 Some 20 inches long and over 30 in extent, the male 
 black, brownish below; the upper part of the upper mandi- 
 ble, including the gnarl, bright orange; iris, brown; feet, 
 brownish. The female, several inches shorter than the male, 
 with scarcely anything of the gnarl at the base of the bill, 
 which is- all black, is light sooty-brown above, and brownish- 
 gray, with dusky specks, below. The nest is placed in a 
 tussock of grass, in some marsh a few miles from the sea, 
 and is made of dried weeds and grasses, the eggs being 
 some 2.30X1.60, and creamy-white. 
 
 THE SCOTER. 
 
 On the same day other flocks of strange, dark-colored 
 Ducks appeared. I saw them in the water more frequently 
 than in the air, and they were very expert divers. Some- 
 times the smaller flocks seemed almost to alternate with 
 the immense flocks of Red-heads, at other times they were 
 mixed in with them, so that a shot into a flock would bring 
 down both kinds. The strange kind proved to be the young 
 of the American Scoter (CEdemia americana); no mature 
 birds at any time being detected among them, I think, 
 
480 THE VELVET DUCK. 
 
 though they do occasionally occur here in the spring. 
 Some 20 inches long, and about 32 in extent, thus only of 
 a medium size, the male is black throughout; eyes, brown; 
 feet, greenish; top of the bill, orange, the mark being 
 broadest by the gnarl at the base of the bill. Female and 
 young, brown, the sides of the head and the under parts 
 lighter, obscurely spotted with dusky. 
 
 This is another of the winter Ducks, sometimes appear- 
 ing in great numbers along the whole Atlantic, perfectly at 
 home in the stormy surf of the winter winds, feeding mostly 
 on small bivalves, for which it dives incessantly and with 
 the greatest address. It flies low over the water, but moves 
 with great momentum; and is so attached to the sea, that its 
 appearance on fresh waters would seem to be but casual, 
 during its transits of migration, or while the most tempest- 
 uous storms are raging along the coast. The note of the 
 Scoter in spring is like whe-oo-hoo, long drawn out. 
 
 Nesting similarly to the Eider Duck, it breeds from 
 Labrador northward; the eggs, 2.00x1.60, being yellowish- 
 white. 
 
 THE VELVET DUCK. 
 
 During all last fall's shooting of Ducks on the Niagara, a 
 fine pair of mature Velvet Ducks (CEdemta fusca) remained in 
 perfect safety, though fired at more or less continuously. 
 They never dived to escape the shot, but had the happy 
 faculty of rising out of the water just before one came within 
 ordinary range for a shot. They seemed so perfectly self- 
 assured and at home, that up to that point of approach, one 
 might study them with all impunity. How buoyantly they 
 swam, and how large and lusty they looked as they flew low 
 over the water. The male, nearly 2 feet long and nearly 3 in 
 extent, of brownish velvety black with white secondaries, caus- 
 ing a clear white bar across the wing when closed, and a long 
 
THE EIDER DUCK. 481 
 
 white spot under the eye, was indeed one of the larger and 
 more robust Ducks on the river. In the mature male, the 
 red or bright orange bill has the base and the sides black; 
 the iris is yellow, and the feet are dark red. The female 
 and the young of the year, are dark brown or dusky, with 
 two spots of whitish on the cheek, white bar on the wing, 
 grayish under parts mottled with dusky, and black bill. In 
 the latter part of September, I have seen these Ducks in 
 large flocks on Lake Ontario. Their large black form, with 
 snow-white patch at the base of the wing, cannot be mis- 
 taken in flight. The Velvet Duck (CEdemia fused) breeds 
 from Labrador northward. 
 
 The three species last described constitute a group of 
 Black Sea-Ducks, known on the Atlantic Coast in winter as 
 Coots. A curiously formed or fancy bill, swollen at the 
 base, broad and variously modified at the tip, and bright 
 parti-colored, is a marked characteristic; the plumage is 
 soft and velvety; the legs are placed far back in accom- 
 modation to their expert diving habits; and though emi- 
 nently Ducks of the ocean, diving for mollusks or fishes, 
 and seeking bays and estuaries only in the severest storms, 
 breeding from Labrador northward, they locate on fresh 
 waters a short distance from the sea. Like that of most 
 ocean Ducks, their flesh is not very palatable; and like our 
 more northern birds in general, they are common to both 
 the Old World and the New. 
 
 THE EIDER DUCK. 
 
 Our large rivers, bearing more or less north and south, 
 are all great highways of migration. So inviting an 
 avenue to the south is the great St. Lawrence, that in 
 the autumn, even the Eiders may be tempted to take that 
 route into the interior. The young of both the Common 
 81 
 
482 THE EIDER DUCK. 
 
 and the King Eider are occasionally found here on the 
 Niagara, and a mature male of the latter was once taken 
 here in April. 
 
 Let no one think that the brilliant birds are confined 
 to the south. On our northern oceans rides the King of 
 Ducks, and also his still more stately cousin, the Common 
 Eider. The lower parts, and the crown from the base 
 of the bill, black; the upper parts, including a line into 
 the crown, white; back of the head and neck, ice-green; 
 the breast a most elegant rosy-cream, the male of 
 the Common Eider (Somateria mollissimd] is a very ideal 
 of chaste beauty. The darkness of the deep beneath him, 
 the snow of the mountain above him, the ice beneath his 
 crown, and the rosy tint of the aurora borealis on his 
 breast, he is the symbol of our most intensely startling 
 and beautiful ideas of the north. 
 
 Extending their winter habitat along our northwestern 
 coast to New York,, the Eiders reach Labrador, in their 
 northward migrations, by the first days of May, two weeks 
 or more before the ice is out of that region. For the next 
 three or four weeks their low flight, in long drawn-out lines, 
 is a feature of that rough and forbidding landscape. The 
 sexes are already united in regularly chosen pairs, the dark 
 colored females contrasting strongly, as they alternate with 
 their snowy consorts in the lines of flight. To the residents 
 of Labrador, shut in by the long, bleak winter, their appear- 
 ance now is about as pleasant as is that of the Robins to 
 us in the raw days of March. After disporting themselves 
 for several weeks in the happy reminiscences of their former 
 summer haunts, they begin nidification about the last of 
 May or the first of June. Breeding in communities, some- 
 times in immense numbers, in this respect differing notice- 
 ably from most Ducks, they appropriate the rocky islands 
 
THE EIDER DUCK. 483 
 
 and islets along the coast for several sometimes five or six 
 miles out, and along the mainland and inward for a mile. 
 Thus their nidification becomes a striking characteristic of this 
 great ornithological breeding-ground. The nests are placed 
 about clumps of grass, in fissures of the rocks, under the 
 low spreading branches of the stunted firs, and along shelv- 
 ings of the shore not far from the water's edge. Often 
 they are so numerous as almost to crowd upon each other, 
 six or eight being found under a single bush, or arranged 
 in lines along the grassy clefts of rock. Well sunken into 
 the ground, they are made of dried twigs, sea-weeds, and 
 mosses, so well placed and interwoven as to give the cavity 
 a neat and pretty appearance. As is the case with Ducks 
 generally, there is no down in the nest when the eggs are 
 first laid; but when they are deposited, 5-7, or perhaps as 
 high as 10, oval, smooth-shelled and pale clouded or mot- 
 tled olive-green, some 3.00X2.10, the female, now aban- 
 doned by her mate, begins to pluck the celebrated down 
 from her breast, and continues to do so as incubation pro- 
 ceeds, until the roots of the feathers of her under parts are 
 about entirely bare of this commodity. The nest, now con- 
 taining about a hat-full of loose down, which approximates 
 an ounce in weight, is elegantly lined, and may afford an 
 entire covering to the eggs in the absence of the bird; and 
 thus their warmth may be preserved for some time, while 
 the lone and forsaken female seeks recreation and food. 
 Now the dark reddish-brown birds, elegantly marked with 
 black and with two narrow white cross-bars on the wings, 
 may be seen standing on the rocks leisurely preening their 
 feathers, or floating on the waters in the vicinity. At the 
 same time the bright colored males may be seen in large 
 flocks, disporting themselves in entire freedom from care, 
 among the outer islands and sand-bars. The immature 
 
484 THE EIDER DUCK. 
 
 males, variously spotted and piebald it taking four years 
 for them to reach mature colors are meanwhile finding 
 seclusion with the sterile females. I recently found quite a 
 number of these Ducks breeding about Mud and Seal 
 Islands, Yarmouth County, Nova Scotia, and am told that 
 a few still breed about Grand Menan. 
 
 Early in July the first young appear, and by the 20th 
 they are about all hatched. Heavily clad in a dark mouse- 
 colored down, they are the objects of the closest vigilance 
 and care on the part of the mother. If the nest be far 
 from water, they are at once conducted thither through 
 every difficulty; if it be about rocks over the water, the 
 mother will transfer them in her bill, after the manner 
 of the Wood Duck. For the next three weeks or more, 
 the Eider is the most faithful of mothers, leading her 
 brood, in close flocks, about shallow waters, where they are 
 taught to dive for their food. If they become fatigued, 
 she swims deeply among them, and takes them all on her 
 back till they are rested. If a Jaeger or the large Black- 
 backed Gull appear in search of a tender meal, croaking 
 fiercely and beating the water with her wings, she will raise 
 a lively spray, the young meanwhile disappearing under 
 water; or she springs out of the water, and attacks the enemy 
 "tooth and nail " so fiercely, that he is glad to make good 
 his retreat. Now see her mount that rock, and coax her 
 scattered brood together around her, as they emerge from 
 the water here and there along the shore ! 
 
 The males, free from domestic cares, moult several weeks 
 before the females, and also leave their summer habitat 
 some two weeks in advance of the females and young, but 
 are happy to mingle with them again after all have reached 
 our coast to spend the winter. Here, toward spring, the 
 males have a queer note, sounding like moo-moo-o-o-o-o; and 
 
THE EIDER DUCK. 485 
 
 resembling the moaning of the seals in the harbors. The prin- 
 cipal food of the Eider is shell-fish, small gasteropods and 
 mussels, for which it will dive 8 or 10 fathoms, or even 
 more, arid the shells of which it can break easily. Though 
 its flesh is not the most savory, it can sometimes be eaten 
 with relish. Audubon cites a case of its successful domes- 
 tication. Its colors, its great size some 25 inches in length 
 and 40.50 in extent, and its broad-based tapering bill, 
 feathered well down along the ridge fully differentiate it. 
 
 In Norway and Greenland, for the Eider is also a denizen 
 of the Old World, this species is half domesticated. The 
 natives, pursuing a humane and most commendable policy, 
 do not allow it to be molested. Hence it breeds in great 
 numbers, even about their premises, under up-turned 
 boats, slabs, and about out-houses, the female allowing her- 
 self to be lifted from the nest while the eggs are handled. 
 After the young have left the nest, the down is gathered as 
 an article of commerce; and thus it is secured in the 
 greatest quantity. Islands appropriated as breeding-places 
 thus become good, sometimes notable, sources of income to 
 the owners. 
 
 The King Duck (Somateria spectabilis], a near relative of 
 the former, but of considerably smaller size, is more arctic 
 in its habitat. Very common about the Magdalen Islands 
 in winter, and so tame that it can be killed with a stick, 
 it seldom migrates as far south as New England. Probably 
 its tameness in winter is due to its breeding so far north as 
 to be disturbed but little by man. 
 
 Some 22.50 long and 41.00 in extent, the male is brownish- 
 black, having the chin, neck, upper part of the back, stripe 
 lengthwise on the wing, and a spot on each side of the base 
 of the tail, white; an elegant gray-drab hood over the 
 crown; cheeks delicate ice-green; border around the bare 
 
486 THE HARLEQUIN DUCK. 
 
 red patches on the sides of the swelling at the base of the 
 bill, and fork-shaped spot on the throat, black; breast, dark- 
 cream. The female is reddish-brown, marked with black, 
 with a little white on the wings. The species can always 
 be determined by the downward curve of the long scapulars. 
 The Labrador Duck (Somateria labradoria), an arctic spe- 
 cies, formerly found from New Jersey northward in winter, 
 is now so rare as to be regarded almost extinct. Some 20 
 inches long and 30 in extent, it has a long patch along the 
 crown and down the back of the head, collar around the 
 lower neck continuing and enlarging over the back; the 
 primaries and the under parts, black; the other parts are 
 white; thus making a very strongly marked species. 
 
 THE HARLEQUIN DUCK. 
 
 The most fantastic of all our Ducks is the Harlequin 
 {Histrionicus torquatus], or Lord and Lady, as the two- sexes 
 are called on the coasts of New England. About IV inches 
 long and 27-28 in extent, bill short and small, tail rather 
 long and pointed, the male has the head and neck of dusky- 
 ash; upper breast and shoulders, bluish-ash; under parts, 
 dusky-brown; triangular-crescent spot at the base of the 
 bill, in front of the eye and extending up on the crown; a 
 narrow line on the back of the crown, a spot back of the 
 ear, a long one on the neck, a narrow ring around the lower 
 neck, large epaulets; markings on the scapulars, tertiaries, 
 wing-coverts and sides at the base of the tail, white; the 
 white generally margined with black; a streak on each side 
 of the crown, and the long feathers on the sides, chestnut- 
 red or brown; rump, tail, and under- tail coverts, black. 
 The female is dusky-brown, with whitish markings in 
 front of the eye, and a clear white spot back of the ear. 
 The young males are several years in coming to maturity. 
 
THE HARLEQUIN DUCK. 487 
 
 In Audubon's time this species was common, in winter, 
 from Boston northward, and bred as far south as Grand 
 Menan; at present it is doubtful if it breeds farther south 
 than Labrador and Newfoundland, and is not very plentiful 
 there; while in respect to their winter habitat, Mr. E. Smith, 
 of Portland, Maine, says they are " not very common, but 
 of regular occurrence along the coast in winter, frequenting 
 the outermost islands and ledges;" also that they are "very 
 active, expert divers, and generally wary, and as their haunts 
 are not easily accessible, but few of the birds are shot." 
 
 About Mud and Seal Islands, Yarmouth Co., Nova Scotia, 
 this species is still found in considerable numbers through- 
 out the winter, there being sometimes as many as a hundred 
 in a flock. They keep about the rocks and ledges, feeding 
 on the small crustaceans called sand fleas, and on small gas- 
 teropods. Shooting the " Rock Ducks," as they call them 
 here, is the rarest sport of the season. An attractive sight, 
 indeed, is a flock of these strikingly marked birds, on a sol- 
 itary outlying rock, on a bleak winter's day. The males 
 are said to be particularly, proud in their manner, stretching 
 up their necks and bowing to each other when a number of 
 them alight together, and emitting a peculiar soft whistling 
 note, not unlike that of the Common Partridge or Ruffed 
 Grouse. They generally arrive in November and leave in 
 April. For these interesting facts, I am indebted to Mr. John 
 Crowell, of Seal Island, who is not only a gentleman of 
 great generosity, but one of the most accurate observers of 
 nature that it has ever been my pleasure to meet. 
 
 It is now pretty evident, that this species breeds in holes 
 in trees, like the Wood Thrush. It is so reported from the 
 interior of Newfoundland. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 BIRD-LIFE IN NOVA SCOTIA. 
 
 NOVA Scotia is especially favored with the Warblers. 
 The beautiful and musical Yellow Warbler (D. astiva) 
 is as common here as in New England, and with its usual 
 familiarity, may build its nest in the rose-bush by the 
 front door. From almost every clump of evergreens comes 
 the peculiar ditty of the Black-throated Green Warbler 
 (D. virens). The sprightly whistle of the Black-and- Yellow 
 Warbler (D. maculosd) is quite common to the evergreen and 
 mixed forests; the musical twitter of the Yellow-rump (D. 
 coronatd) is often heard in the pine groves; the soft shrilling 
 insect-tones of the Yellow-backed Blue Warbler (Parula 
 americana) is nearly as common as in New England; the 
 conspicuous little figure of the Black-and-white Creeping 
 Warbler (Mniotilta varia) is frequent on the trunks of the 
 lowland forest-trees; the Black-throated Blue Warbler (D. 
 ccerulescens] is not rare; the Maryland Yellow- throat (Geothly- 
 pis trichas] delights in the swamps and numerous wild 
 meadows; the Redstart (Sttophaga ruticilld] flashes among 
 the foliage; the Chestnut-side is to be found occasionally; 
 Audubon reports the nest of the Blackburnian from this 
 locality; and Mr. Andrew Downes regards the Yellow Red- 
 poll as a common resident. All of the above no doubt breed 
 in the numbers there indicated, while the echoing chant of 
 the Golden-crown (Seiurus aurocapillus] is frequently heard; 
 
THE BLACK-POLL WARBLER. 439 
 
 and its near relative, the Water Thrush (S. noveboracensis), 
 is at home in the bogs and swamps. 
 
 THE BLACK-POLL WARBLER. 
 
 I do not remember hearing the Black-poll (D. striatd) on 
 the main-land of the peninsula, but on the Mud and Seal 
 Islands, about fifteen miles out at sea, nearly in range with 
 the county-line between Yarmouth and Shelburn counties, 
 they are positively abundant throughout the breeding season 
 so abundant that, while wandering among the evergreens, 
 one is at no time out of the reach of their song, and often 
 several can be heard at once. That song, though one of 
 the most slender and wiry in all our forests, is as distin- 
 guishable as the hum of the Cicada or the shrilling of the 
 Katydid. Tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-tree y rapidly uttered, 
 the monotonous notes of equal length, beginning very 
 softly, gradually increasing to the middle of the strain, 
 and then as gradually diminishing, thus forming a fine 
 musical swell may convey a fair idea of the song. There 
 is a peculiar soft and tinkling sweetness in this melody, sug- 
 gestive of the quiet mysteries of the forest, and sedative as 
 an anodyne to the nerves. The chaste little figure striped 
 in half mourning and capped in jet-black, every now and 
 then reaches the tip-top of some evergreen, stretches him- 
 self up in song in full sight, and then darts into the thicket. 
 As one nears the nest, the female may be seen beating her 
 wings along the branches in the utmost distress, or one 
 may still hear her sharp chipping note of alarm as she dis- 
 appears in the almost impenetrable growth of small black 
 spruce. The nest is very uniquely placed. Generally within 
 reach from the ground, often quite low and on a limb 
 against the trunk of a small tree, it is a bulky structure, 
 about five inches in external and two in internal diameter, 
 
490 THE BLACK-POLL WARBLER. 
 
 about one inch in depth internally and three in depth 
 externally, and is composed of the small spray of the ever- 
 greens, dried weeds, moss and wool, the lining being of 
 fine dried grasses and a few feathers. The materials are all 
 rather roughly laid; and the wool may be peculiar to the 
 locality under consideration, as the hundreds of sheep kept 
 here throughout the year leave tags of their fleece on 
 almost every bush. The four eggs, about .75X-53, are 
 grayish-white, slightly specked all over, and spotted in a 
 wreath around the large end, with several shades of brown, 
 and still more with subdued lilac or neutral tint; the whole 
 being intensified with here and there a distinct blackish 
 spot or scrawl in the wreath of spots or thickest part of the 
 marking. The eggs of the various species of Warblers 
 differing greatly in size for birds so similar in measurement, 
 those of this species are among the larger specimens. 
 
 In color and in habit the Black-poll is strongly differen- 
 tiated. Male, 5.50 long and 8.50 in extent, has first primary as 
 long as the second, thus making the wing quite pointed, and 
 the tail emarginate. The upper parts are light bluish-ash 
 streaked with black; crown, jet-black; wings and tail, dusky, 
 the former edged with greenish, the latter edged with white, 
 and having patches of white on the inner web of the three 
 outer feathers toward the end; tertiaries edged, and wing- 
 coverts tipped, with white; cheeks and under parts, white, 
 with spotted lines of black from the bill down the sides. 
 Female similar, with colors and marking not so bright, gen- 
 erally more or less tinged with greenish-yellow. 
 
 The mature male, moving among the dark foliage, much 
 after the manner of a Flycatcher, also capturing insects 
 with a sharp snap of the bill, is as conspicuous in his 
 strongly contrasted colors as the Black-and-White Creeper 
 or the Black-capped Chickadee. Appearing in the very 
 
THE HERMIT THRUSH. 491 
 
 tail of the migration of its family, it is scarcely to be looked 
 for in Western New York till the middle or latter part of 
 May, and Audubon found the eggs of the species in Labra- 
 dor as late as the middle of July. But if the Black-poll 
 seems to be a laggard, let it be remembered that it is a great 
 traveler. Wintering in Central America and the West In- 
 dies, and traveling, perhaps, largely at sea, it does not slacken 
 its migrations till it reaches the oceanic islands off north- 
 eastern Maine and Nova Scotia; and breeding commonly in 
 Labrador, it extends even to Alaska and the Arctic Ocean. 
 Nebraska seems to be about its western limit. 
 
 THE HERMIT THRUSH. 
 
 One of the most charming items to a naturalist, visiting 
 Northern New England or the Maritime Provinces in 
 spring, is the song of the Hermit Thrush (Turdus pallasi). 
 I reached Paradise, in the Annapolis Valley, Nova Scotia, 
 during the night, and, early the next morning climbed the 
 South Mountain to listen to the birds. It was the beau- 
 tiful morning of the second of June, 1883. As I passed 
 through a swampy tract of alders, on nearing the foot of 
 the mountain, I was greeted with the divine song of the 
 Hermit. It had been familiar to me in the days of child- 
 hood, and I had often recalled the unutterably sacred feel- 
 ings it used to awaken; but never during the many years of 
 my ornithological studies had I heard it, though I was quite 
 familiar with the bird in its migrations. Stimulated by 
 anticipation, and with a vague conception formed from the 
 descriptions of authors, and the analogous songs of other 
 Thrushes, I was prepared for the happiest impression. It 
 was a moment never to be forgotten. The song begins 
 with a note not unlike the vowel O, passing through several 
 intervals of the musical scale in a smooth, upward slide, and 
 
492 THE HERMIT THRUSH. 
 
 in a tone of indescribable melodiousness, and continues 
 in a shake which gradually softens into silence, thus giving 
 a most pleasing diminuendo. Put into syllables, it is well 
 represented by Mr. Burrough's phrase, " O-o-o-o, holy-holy- 
 holy-holy :" and I sometimes thought I heard it say, O-o-o-o y 
 seraph-seraph-seraph-seraph. Again I could discover no sug- 
 gestion of articulate language, but only that soul-language 
 of pure melody, which speaks directly to the heart without 
 the ruder incumbrance of speech. With short pauses, this 
 diminuendo is repeated any number of times, but always 
 on a different key and with a different modulation. Now it 
 is on the main chords, now on the intermediates, and now 
 on the most delicately chosen and inspiring chromatics. 
 When pitched high, the shake is through a shorter interval, 
 and in a weaker tone The lower-toned modulations are 
 always the sweetest. Sometimes the tones are so soft as 
 to sound far away, though the bird is quite near; and again 
 the notes are very penetrating, and may be heard for quite 
 a distance, especially when aided by the enchanting echoes of 
 tall, dense forests. The tone of the melody is neither of flute, 
 nor hautboy nor vox-humana, but something of inimitable 
 sweetness, and never heard away from the fragrant arcades 
 of the forest. "Spiritual serenity," or a refined, poetic, 
 religious devotion, is indeed the sentiment of the song. He 
 whose troubled spirit cannot be soothed or comforted, or 
 whose religious feelings cannot be awakened by this song, iu 
 twilight, must lack the full sense of hearing, or that inner 
 sense of the soul which catches nature's most significant 
 voices. It is a voice which should always direct us heaven- 
 ward. 
 
 Notwithstanding its retiring habits and its celestial song, 
 this bird is decidedly lowly and humble in its nidification. 
 The nest is not placed in a bush or small tree, as is the case 
 
THE CANADA JA Y. 493 
 
 with the Wood Thrush and the Olive-back and its allies, nor 
 on a pile of brush or dried leaves near the ground, after the 
 manner of the Wilson; but it is sunken into the ground, 
 among the forest plants or ferns, the rim being about level 
 with the surface. It is somewhat bulky, and quite substan- 
 tially built of dried weeds and grasses, slightly intermixed 
 with moss. The lining is of similar but finer material, 
 sometimes brightened with the glossy red or black capsule- 
 stems of mosses. The eggs, of clear bluish-green, are 
 about .85-.90 X .62-65. 
 
 The alarm-note, or breeding-call of this species, is a soft, 
 quee-e-e-e-eh, somewhat resembling the call of the Vireos. 
 
 All in all, this is about the most boreal of the Thrushes. 
 Wintering in the Southern and occasionally, it would seem, 
 even in the Middle States, it breeds from Northern New 
 England far to the north. The variety nanus seems pecul- 
 iar to the southern Rocky Mountains, as is auduboni to the 
 regions beyond. The Hermit breeds in the high altitudes 
 of the above mountains, even as far south as Colorado. 
 
 Early in April, the russet form of this Thrush is seen, 
 frequently, on the ground, among the faded leaves of our 
 forests in Western New York, on its way to the north; and 
 again in October, or perhaps as late as November, when the 
 first snow falls, it appears again, quite commonly, on its way 
 south. Like the rest of the Thrushes, it feeds on the 
 ground, running briskly, and often dropping down from 
 the branches, between the strains of its song, to pick up 
 some favorite morsel, spied in the distance by those large, 
 dark eyes, so common to the family. 
 
 THE CANADA JAY. 
 
 On the 9th of June (1883), in a wild meadow in Lunen- 
 burg County, N. S., I was much amused watching a female 
 
494 THE CANADA JA Y. 
 
 Canada Jay (Perisoreus canadensis) feed her full-grown 
 young. So great is the difference in color of the old and 
 young of this bird, that Swainson, in the " Fauna Boreali- 
 Americana," figured the young as another species. About 
 11 inches long and 15 in extent, the mature bird is dusky- 
 ash, the feathers over the back and wing-coverts, tinged 
 toward the tip with reddish; forehead, throat, ear-coverts, 
 front and sides of the neck, and tips of the wing and tail 
 feathers, white; under parts, light reddish, tinged with ash; 
 bill and feet, black. Male and female are alike. 
 
 The young are deep dusky-ash, with the head blackish; 
 streak from the base of the bill across the ear-coverts, tips 
 of the greater wing-coverts and of the wing and tail 
 feathers, and the vent, white; bill, bluish-white, tipped with 
 black. Thus the young are so much darker than the parent 
 as to appear like another species. 
 
 The brood referred to were full-grown, and yet were be- 
 ing fed as assiduously as if they had been callow nestlings. 
 Their noisiness, when the mother-bird arrived with food, 
 first attracted my attention, the noise being a sort of hiss- 
 ing squeal, loud enough to startle anything in the neighbor- 
 hood. The parent also had a squealing note, and another 
 sounding like choo-choo-choo-choo, the note, perhaps, which 
 Audubon compared to light strokes on an anvil. 
 
 The Canada Jay, or Meat Hawk, or Whiskey Jack, or 
 Carrion-bird, may be most readily allured by its stomach. 
 Ordinarily shy and distant, like other Jays, it will come so 
 near as to appear almost domesticated, wherever there is 
 some suitable food to attract it. Butchering-day among 
 the farmers is sure to bring him. Perching on the nearest 
 available object, and closely eying the whole proceeding, 
 he will frequently drop down almost within reach to pick 
 up a fresh morsel. The fisherman on some inland lake or 
 
THE CANADA JA Y. 49.5 
 
 stream, may discover him in the other end of his boat, pil- 
 laging his bait; the camper-out will be most sure to receive 
 a call from him as soon as his quarters are taken up, and 
 every stray crumb or bit of offal will reveal the motive of 
 his visit; he seeks out the lumberman in the deep forest, 
 and, in the emergencies of winter, will even take food 
 from his hand. Audubon describes a rather cruel amuse- 
 ment of the lumbermen with this bird. " This is done," he 
 says, " by cutting a pole eight or ten feet in length, balancing 
 it on the sill of their hut, the end outside the entrance being 
 baited with a piece of flesh of any kind. Immediately on 
 seeing the tempting morsel, the Jays alight on it, and while 
 they are busily engaged in devouring it, a wood-cutter gives 
 a smart blow to the end of the pole within the hut, which 
 seldom fails to drive the birds high into the air, and not 
 infrequently kills them." 
 
 Exceedingly plain in color, and repulsive, rather than 
 pleasing, in its vocal performances, the Canada Jay is decid- 
 edly graceful, however, in its movements. How emphatic, 
 and peculiar to itself, is that nod of the head as it alights, 
 and there is a peculiar jerk of the wings and tail. When 
 alighting in one of the lower branches of a tree, it will 
 sometimes ascend, hopping jauntily from one limb to 
 another, round and round the trunk, thus reaching the top 
 as if by a winding stairs. Its flight, too, is showy, resem- 
 bling that of its gay relative, the Blue Jay. 
 
 True to its membership in the Crow family, it is said to 
 be a devourer of the eggs and young of other birds, not 
 sparing even the eggs of the Crow itself. Some competent 
 writers say that its sagacity extends even to hiding and 
 hoarding food for the winter. 
 
 Like some other hardy birds, it begins the breeding pro- 
 cess very early, even in February or March, thus bringing 
 
496 THE RAVEN. 
 
 out its young before most other birds begin to build. In- 
 deed, these young Jays are already flying by the time most 
 of our migratory birds arrive. The nest, placed in the 
 thick part of a tree, is built of twigs, hay arid moss, and is 
 lined with fine fibrous roots, like that of the Blue Jay. 
 The eggs, about 1.20X-?0, are gray or grayish-white, marked 
 all over, but more especially at the butt, with several shades 
 of a neutral tint, and with spots of dark olive-brown. This 
 species breeds from northern New England to 39, and 
 down in the Rocky Mountains probably to Colorado. It 
 sometimes strays to the Middle States in winter. 
 
 THE RAVEN. 
 
 A very common bird-voice, in Nova Scotia, is the hoarse 
 croak of the Raven (Coruus corax]. This bird is much 
 oftener heard than seen, however, for it is too shy and wary 
 to make its appearance except in the distance. Then it is 
 readily distinguishable from the Crow by its much greater 
 size. Occasionally, especially if you are riding in some 
 conveyance, it will perch near by and in full sight, when its 
 size, its loose flowing plumage, and its thick, gull-like bill, 
 mark it unmistakably. In flight it may differ very materially 
 from the Crow, soaring high and majestically, after the 
 manner of the large Buzzards or the Eagle, though its ordi- 
 nary beating flight is quite crow-like. 
 
 For the most part the Raven is a bird of the north, and 
 is partly migratory. Retired woodland lakes and streams, 
 solitary cataracts, rushing rapids in deep ravines, forest-clad 
 cliffs of great rivers, wooded islands out in the ocean, and 
 lonely beetling crags about the sea, are the haunts of this 
 majestic and mysterious bird. Perhaps from a natural 
 aversion to man, but more probably from being constantly 
 persecuted by him, it disappears entirely from the more 
 
THE RAVEN. 497 
 
 cultivated parts of the country. For instance, about Niag- 
 ara Falls, and along the south shores of Lakes Erie and 
 Ontario, where Wilson reported it as abundant in his time, 
 it seems now to have entirely disappeared. 
 
 Though its dignified proportions, its color of magnificent 
 black, and its distant, wary and stately ways, as well as the 
 inscrutable mystery with which superstition has always 
 invested it, give it a very high, aesthetic regard, many of its 
 habits are by no means pleasing. In respect to diet, it is to 
 a great extent a carrion-eater, feeding especially on dead 
 fish which float up on the shores. Not only does it destroy 
 birds and their eggs and weakly young lambs, but also the 
 tender young of animals generally. 
 
 This magnificent bird may have much said in his favor, 
 however. One who was most familiar with the habits of 
 birds says that "the Raven destroys numberless insects, 
 grubs and worms; that he kills mice, moles and rats, when- 
 ever he can find them ; that he will seize the weasel, the young 
 opossum, and the skunk; that, with the perseverance of a 
 cat, he will watch the burrows of foxes, and pounce on the 
 cubs." Even his carrion-eating propensities have their 
 utility; so that it is highly probable that the Raven, not- 
 withstanding all that may be said against him, is much more 
 useful than injurious. Indeed, he is possessed of so much 
 character, and has filled so large a place in history, that the 
 world would seem incomplete without him. He is the first 
 bird mentioned in the Bible. When the flood began to decline, 
 Noah "sent forth a Raven, which went forth to and fro until 
 the waters were dried up from off the earth." "That is," says 
 Tristram, the celebrated English writer on the natural his- 
 tory of the Bible, " the Raven kept going and returning to 
 the ark, resting on it, but not entering into it again, and 
 finding its food in the floating carcasses. No other bird 
 32 
 
498 THE RAVEN. 
 
 was so well adapted to obtain its subsistence amidst the 
 scene of desolation; and the fact that it did not return into 
 the ark would afford Noah a sign that the first stage of the 
 subsidence of the waters was accomplished." 
 
 The poets of all time have made the Raven, with its 
 hoarse, guttural tones, and its supposed untimely flight, the 
 sign and symbol of the darkest coming evils. Has the 
 night given us a mysterious and awful idea of darkness ? 
 The Raven has furnished our most beautiful and poetic 
 conception of blackness. The peculiar majesty of his form 
 and color is a dark point in nature's picture, most essential 
 to its completeness; the absence of his weird tones would 
 greatly detract from the harmony and significance of bird- 
 music; and what a noticeable break in our literature would 
 come with his departure! 
 
 Audubon assigns the nest of the Raven to some inaccessi- 
 ble cliff, and such no doubt is its most natural location; but 
 in the absence of suitable rocky cliffs, it is placed in a tree. 
 On the Mud and Seal Islands it is built in the flat-topped, 
 low spruces, so common to the locality. Generally placed 
 under a canopy of thick, broad branches, it is made of 
 large, crooked, weather-worn sticks, closely and artistically 
 laid, being rimmed up with finer material and well lined 
 with wool; the same nest being repaired from year to year. 
 Thus, in course of time, it becomes quite bulky, like that of 
 the large Buzzards or the Eagle. The eggs, 4-6, and some 
 1.75x1.40, are bluish-green, spotted all over, but more at 
 the butt, with brown and pale purple, the ground color being 
 much lighter or darker in different specimens, and the extent 
 of marking being subject to great variation. The nesting 
 begins as early as March, in Nova Scotia, and the whole 
 family are abroad in June. 
 
 The Raven is of almost world-wide distribution; and that 
 
THE CANADA GROUSE. 499 
 
 of America, though slightly larger, probably is not specifi- 
 cally different from that of Europe. 
 
 THE CANADA GROUSE. 
 
 Nova Scotia is fairly within the habitat of the Spruce 
 Partridge or Canada Grouse (Tetrao canadensis) ; and it may 
 be found there, commonly, in all suitable places evergreen 
 woods and swamps, and uncleared tracts of more or less 
 barren land. As with the Grouse generally, this species is 
 not migratory, its habitat being from the extreme north of 
 New England to Labrador northward, and to the Rocky 
 Mountains and Alaska westward. About 16.00 long, the 
 general color of the male is black, the under parts being 
 more or less barred and spotted with clear white, the 
 upper parts waved with gray or reddish-brown, and the 
 quills variegated with light brown; the black tail is ter- 
 minally banded with bright reddish-brown; naked space 
 over the eye, bright vermilion; legs feathered to between 
 the toes. Female a little smaller, the black being less clear, 
 and much variegated with brown and white, the tail band 
 less bright. 
 
 This is a bird of gentle, retired ways. Never does it 
 make itself common about fields and pastures, piping from 
 fence-stakes, like the Quail; nor w r ill it expose itself in the 
 open and by the roadside, even as much as the Ruffed 
 Grouse. It is the aristocrat of its family, stepping daintily 
 on its moss-carpeted and deeply-shaded apartments, feed- 
 ing in summer on such berries as may be found in the 
 forest, and in winter being content with even the leaves of 
 the evergreens. Its flesh, being dark and unsavory, is not 
 much in favor. 
 
 Its simple nest is generally well concealed on the ground, 
 and contains some dozen quite pointed eggs, 1.65 1.70 x 
 
500 THE GOLDEN-CROWNED KINGLET. 
 
 1.151.25, brownish-cream, spotted and more or less blotched 
 with dark-brown. 
 
 The note of this species is a soft chuck, and it has not 
 the jaunty jerk of the tail when walking, so noticeable in 
 the Ruffed Grouse. In every way its manner is less self- 
 conscious and gay. It is equally attached to its young, 
 however, and will seek their safety with similar arts of simu- 
 lated distress. Ordinarily it is so tame and unwary, that it 
 may be taken by a noose fastened on the end of a stick. 
 
 Mr. Everett Smith, of Portland, Me., says: "The Canada 
 Grouse performs its * drumming' upon the trunk of a stand- 
 ing tree of rather small size, preferably one that is inclined 
 from the perpendicular, and in the following manner: Com- 
 mencing near the base of the tree selected, the bird flutters 
 upward with somewhat slow progress, but with rapidly beat- 
 ing wings, which produce the drumming sound. Having thus 
 ascended fifteen or twenty feet, it glides quietly on the wing 
 to the ground, and then repeats the maneuver. Favorite 
 places are resorted to habitually, and these ' drumming trees ' 
 are well known to observant woodsmen. I have seen one 
 that was so well worn upon the bark as to lead to the belief 
 that it had been used for this purpose for many years. This 
 tree was a spruce six inches in diameter, with an inclina- 
 tion of about fifteen degrees from the perpendicular, and 
 was known to have been used as a ' drumming tree' for 
 several seasons. The upper surface and sides of the trunk 
 were so worn by the feet and wings of the bird, or birds, 
 using it for drumming, that for a distance of a dozen or 
 fifteen feet the bark had become quite smooth and red, as if 
 rubbed." 
 
 THE GOLDEN-CROWNED KINGLET. 
 
 Having heard the song of the Golden-crowned Kinglet 
 (Regulus satrapa) to the very last days of June, and having 
 
THE GOLDEN-CROWNED KINGLET. 501 
 
 seen the female at different periods of the month, and finally 
 with food in her bill, in Nova Scotia, I infer that it breeds 
 commonly in that province. This accords with the fact, now 
 well authenticated, that it breeds from Northern New Eng- 
 land northward. Its song, sounding like te-eet, te-eet, te-eet, 
 te-eet, te-eet^ te-eet, in a soft whistling tone, is somewhat 
 monotonous, indeed, but a pleasing melody in the soft sough 
 of the evergreens. Nor is this song of the breeding time to 
 be confounded with its soft lisping conversational notes 
 heard throughout the year. Smallest of all our birds 
 except the Hummingbird, only 4-4.50 long, so hardy that 
 it can spend the winter in our Middle States, and even in 
 Southern New England this is one of our first and most 
 abundant migrants. From early in March till the middle 
 or last days of April, its spirited flitting motions whether 
 most like those of the Warbler, Flycatcher, or Titmouse, it 
 would be difficult to say may be observed in the woods, the 
 thicket, or the orchard. A charming sylvan ornament is this 
 tiny, elegant, and gracefully moving songster. Dark green- 
 ish-olive above, grayish-white below, outer webs of the 
 dusky wing and tail feathers, light green, wings marked 
 with white and black, crown, bright flame-color, margined 
 with yellow and again with black, the male is truly a king 
 in all but size, and therefore may fitly be called a King-/^/. 
 The female is like the male, lacking the flame-colored 
 center in the crown, her crown being simply yellow, mar- 
 gined with black. 
 
 The nest of this species was found by Mr. H. D. Minot, 
 of Boston, July 16th, 1875, it having been tracked out by 
 observing the female in the act of conveying food to her 
 young, of which it contained six. It "hung four feet above 
 the ground, from a spreading hemlock bough, to the twigs 
 of which it was firmly fastened; it was globular, with an 
 
502 THE R UB Y-CRO WNED KINGLE T. 
 
 entrance in the upper part, and was composed of hanging 
 moss, ornamented with bits of dead leaves, and lined chiefly 
 with feathers." An egg, found in Labrador, is said to be 
 small and pretty, with clay-colored spots on a white ground. 
 Notwithstanding the immense numbers of this little insec- 
 tivorous species, the study of its nidification still invites the 
 ornithologist. 
 
 THE RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. 
 
 Who has not seen the Ruby-crowned Kinglet (Regulus 
 calendula) in the thick migrations of spring and autumn ? 
 Who that visits the grove, the thicket or the orchard in 
 April or October can fail to hear its soft whispering tse-tse- 
 tse, as if the wee sprites, almost invisible but for their ner- 
 vous flitting motion, were confidentially lisping their secrets 
 in the thick branches overhead? Occasionally in the very 
 last days of its spring migration, one may hear its song. 
 Such was my privilege the first day of May (1883) a calm 
 sunny day, when every inch of atmosphere was calling to 
 swelling buds and springing grass, when every breath was 
 rest and inspiration. The place was a beautiful park-like, 
 open grove near Niagara River. The song came from out 
 of a thick clump of wild 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, chee-oo, choo, choo, choo, 
 tseet, tseet, tseet, tseet, te-tseet, te-tseet, te-tseet; again, tseet, tseet, 
 tseet, tseet, choo, choo, choo, choo, chee-oo, chee-oo, tsit, tsit, tsit, 
 tsit, may represent this wonderful 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, 
 
THE RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. 503 
 
 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. 
 
 In size and color the species is in every way like the 
 former, except the clear ruby crown, often concealed by 
 the surrounding loose feathers, and sometimes probably 
 in the case of birds less than two years old not found 
 at all.* In habit it is regarded as more southern, than its 
 near relative, for it winters even in Mexico and Central 
 America, and is supposed to breed as far south as Northern 
 New Jersey and Western New York. Indeed, it is claimed 
 that the young have been found in the nest in the latter 
 district; and there is good evidence that it breeds among 
 the most elevated forests throughout the Rocky Mountains, 
 as also northward through the Maritime Provinces and 
 Labrador. 
 
 The nest and eggs of this species, however, are a great 
 rarity. The only clear account of them is furnished by W. 
 E. D. Scott, who found them at Twin Lakes, Col., June 
 21st, 1878, the nest being in a low branch of a pine tree. 
 "On the 25th," he writes, "I took this nest, containing five 
 fresh eggs. It was built at the very extremity of the limb, 
 and was partially pensile, though the bottom rested on some 
 of the leaves just below. Like most nests of this region, it 
 was composed in part of sage brush, but as only the smallest 
 twigs were used, the entire structure is exceedingly soft and 
 delicate. It is very bulky in proportion to the bird, and 
 very deep. Inside it is lined with fine grasses and a few 
 feathers. The dimensions, as follows, will give an idea of 
 the size external and internal: Outside four inches deep, 
 three inches in diameter at top, and but little smaller at 
 bottom; inside three inches deep, two inches in diameter 
 
 * It may be that the female will yet be proven to be without the ruby crown. 
 
504 THE PILE A TED WOODPECKER. 
 
 at top, and narrowing a very little. The eggs, which are 
 large in proportion to the bird, are a delicate cream-color 
 before being blown, and white after." 
 
 Cuvier's Kinglet, Audubon gave on the authority of one 
 specimen from near the Schuylkill; and as it has never 
 been duplicated, it is supposed to have been some peculiar 
 specimen of the Golden-crown. A peculiar structural mark 
 of the Kinglets is the booted tarsus. 
 
 THE PILEATED WOODPECKER. 
 
 In the dense evergreen forests of Nova Scotia, visited only 
 by the lumberman or the hunter, may be found that giant 
 of his race, the Pileated Woodpecker, or Logcock, or Black 
 Woodcock (Hylotomus pileatus) . Some 18 or 19 inches long, 
 and 28 in extent, supporting himself against the tree with 
 a tail 6 inches long, the huge form is brownish-black; chin, 
 stripe under the eyes, down the sides of the neck, and ex- 
 panding under the wings, also a large patch at the base of 
 the primaries, white. In the male, the head and pointed 
 crest, and moustaches from the lower mandible, bright 
 scarlet; bill and feet, bluish-gray; iris, yellow. The female 
 has simply the crest scarlet. In flight, the white in the pri- 
 maries is especially conspicuous. 
 
 The loud hammering of this large and vigorous bird on the 
 sonorous dried trees, compared with which the tapping of 
 the smaller species is but a weak noise, very soon becomes 
 familiar to the ear of the woodman; and may designate 
 the bird at a long distance. The old adage, " A workman 
 is known by his chips," certainly affirms much for the in- 
 dustry of this bird. In his search for insects, for which he 
 attacks the dead and dying trees, he will denude great 
 spaces of the trunk and larger branches in a short time, 
 heaping up the chips and strips of bark on the ground in 
 
THE PILE A TED WOODPECKER. 505 
 
 an astonishing manner. Very useful, indeed, must this bird 
 be in preserving our primeval forests from the ravages of 
 insects. Whether one notes his strong, undulating flight, 
 his elastic bounding and springing along the trunks of the 
 trees, the effective chiseling of his powerful bill, or his sono- 
 rous cackling, one is particularly impressed with the spirit 
 and immense energy of the bird. 
 
 The natural habitat of the Pileated Woodpecker is the 
 wooded regions of all North America, but in the slightly 
 wooded prairie regions, it is but rare or casual; and in the 
 more cultivated parts, it disappears, like the North American 
 Indian, before the onward move of civilization. In Western 
 New York, where it was once abundant, it is now of but 
 rare occurrence. Its eggs were taken, however, about a 
 year ago (1882), in a wooded tract near the large park of 
 the city of Buffalo. About 1.25X1.00, they are small for 
 the size of the bird. The species is very shy and wary, 
 keeping for the most part to the tall tree-tops, and making 
 off on the slightest disturbance or alarm. 
 
 Just here, association of ideas brings forward a species 
 closely allied to the above, the Ivory-billed Woodpecker 
 (Campephilus principalis). Inhabiting the South Atlantic and 
 Gulf States, its huge form, bright colors, loud notes, and 
 the immense piles of bark-chips that mark the sites of his 
 work, in search of insects in dead and decaying trees, are 
 the constant accompaniments of the great pine forests of 
 that region. Some 21 inches long, it is even larger than 
 the above species; and its white ivory-colored bill, white 
 secondaries, scapulars, forehead, lines down the back, and 
 spots in the primaries, as well as the deeper and more 
 glossy black of the body generally differentiate it clearly 
 in color. Its clear white eggs are very large, " as large as 
 a pullet's, and equally thick at both ends." 
 
506 THE YELLOW-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 
 
 THE YELLOW-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 
 
 Very common in Nova Scotia, as also in Northern New 
 England and Northern New York, is the Yellow-bellied 
 Woodpecker (Sphyrapicus varius). Some 8.50 long and 15.25 
 in extent, the general color is black, with small white 
 markings nearly throughout; the crown and throat are red, 
 the latter white in the female; the white belly, with fine 
 arrow heads of black along the sides, is tinged with lemon- 
 yellow, and the white stripes on the sides of the head 
 are often tinged with yellow. This species has some 
 peculiarities, both in structure and habit. The tongue is 
 shorter and less extensile than in the rest of its kind; it also 
 lacks acuteness and hardness, and is bushy at the end. 
 The species is, moreover, migratory, thus differing from 
 most Woodpeckers. It has a noted habit of puncturing the 
 bark of living trees, in patches, while the sap is flowing, 
 thus tending to injure the tree. These wounds it continues 
 to visit afterwards, perhaps to drink the sap, but more 
 especially to capture the insects which gather about it. It 
 passes through Western New York, from the middle of 
 April into May. There is nothing peculiar in the nesting of 
 this species, the eggs being about .90 X .75. 
 
 Another species not altogether uncommon in Nova Scotia 
 is the Banded Three-toed Woodpecker (Picoides americanus}. 
 Some 9.25 in length and 15.25 in extent, the upper parts of 
 this species is deep, glossy black; maxillary line, line from 
 base of bill down sides of neck, mark back of eye, spots in 
 wings, interrupted band down the back, and outer tail feath- 
 ers, white; under parts the same, with bars of black on 
 sides; yellow patch on the top of the head; base of the 
 lower mandible and the feet, bluish. Female similar, lack- 
 ing the yellow spot on the head, which is slightly spotted 
 with white. Exceptionally to the rest of the Woodpeckers, 
 
THE GOSHAWK. 507 
 
 this and the following species have but three toes; yet the 
 one hind toe seems to be as good as two, for these birds 
 move along the bark of the trees about as readily as the 
 rest of the family. Dr. C. Hart Merriam records a nest with 
 eggs, from the eastern border of Lewis Co., N. Y. It was in a 
 spruce tree, about 8 feet from the ground, the cavity being 
 some 10 inches deep. " The eggs are cream- white, and of a 
 texture like those of other Woodpeckers. They are strongly 
 ovate in outline (the largest diameter being near the large 
 end), and measure respectively 23. 8 X 17.2 m. m., 23.6X17.8 
 m. m., 23.8X17.9 m. m., and 23 X 17.8 m. m." This species 
 resides from Northern -New York and Northern New Eng- 
 land to the arctics. It does not appear to be numerous, how- 
 ever, at any point. 
 
 Of about the same habitat, only inclined, perhaps, to wan- 
 der further south in winter, is the Black-backed Woodpecker 
 (Picoides arcticus). In size it is about the same, and also in 
 color, except that it lacks the white band on the back. This 
 species is rather more numerous than the former; and, like 
 it, has a very rough rattling note. They keep strictly to the 
 deep forests, but do not appear to be very shy. 
 
 THE GOSHAWK. 
 
 The Goshawk (Astur atricapillus], or Blue Hawk, as it is 
 called there, breeds not uncommonly in Nova Scotia. 
 Female, some 23.00 in length, and 45.00 in extent; male, 
 some 21.00 in length, and 41.00 in extent. In color the 
 sexes are quite similar; bluish-ash above, the feathers cen- 
 trally lined and edged with sooty-brown; wings very dark, 
 outer webs of secondaries, and somewhat in the primaries, 
 bluish-ash; inner webs of the primaries, and in parts of the 
 secondaries, broadly barred with whitish; tail barred with 
 spots of dark-brown and edged with white; uniform bluish- 
 
508 THE GOSHAWK. 
 
 white beneath, every feather streaked in the center and 
 barred irregularly with slaty; top of the head and line back 
 of the eye, black; eye-brow, and concealed patch on the 
 back of the head, white; iris, reddish orange. 
 
 In full plumage, with its fine uniform upper parts, and its 
 delicately penciled under parts, this is about the most 
 beautiful of all our Hawks. Swift in flight, arboreal in its 
 habits, very expert in winding its rapid course among the 
 trees, and able to turn about almost instantly, it captures 
 squirrels, rabbits and grouse with the utmost ease. 
 Indeed, the capture of the last is so characteristic, that in 
 some parts of New England this species is known as the 
 Partridge Hawk. It may skirt the fields in search of the 
 smaller birds; may follow the water-courses in pursuit of 
 the Ducks, making even the Mallard its prey; or it may 
 come, rarely, even into the farm-yard, at the peril of the 
 common poultry. 
 
 Audubon relates an interesting instance which he wit- 
 nessed on one of our great rivers, of the chase of a flock of 
 Crow Blackbirds, by this species: " The Hawk approached 
 them with the swiftness of an arrow, when the Blackbirds 
 rushed together so closely that the flock looked l-ike a dusky 
 ball passing through the air. On reaching the mass, he, 
 with the greatest ease, seized first one, then another, and 
 another, giving each a squeeze with his talons, and suffering 
 it to drop upon the water. In this manner he had procured 
 four or five before the poor birds reached the woods, into 
 which they instantly plunged, when he gave up the chase, 
 swept over the water in graceful curves, and picked up the 
 fruits of his industry, carrying each bird singly to the shore. 
 Reader, is this instinct or reason ? " 
 
 Its nest, placed in tall trees, built of sticks and weeds 
 and lined with grasses and bark-fibers, contains some 3-4 
 
THE GOSHA WK. 509 
 
 eggs, " rather spherical in shape, of a bluish-white color, 
 either immaculate or finely mottled with pale reddish- 
 brown; the size 2.30X1.82-2.32X1.92." (Maynard.) An 
 egg in my possession taken in Lunenburg County, Nova 
 Scotia, is 2.25X1.75, about the size and shape of a common 
 hen's egg, bluish-white, slightly smirched all over with pale 
 dirty-brown. 
 
 Audubon reports a nest from the gorge of Niagara 
 River and the great pine forests of Pennsylvania; but at 
 present its breeding habitat does not appear to extend far 
 south of Northern New England. In winter it roams, more 
 or less commonly, throughout the Middle States, and may 
 stray even into the south. 
 
 Whether the Great Gray Owl (Strix cinered), more boreal 
 even than the Snowy Owl, breeds as far south as Nova Scotia, 
 has not yet been determined ; but as it is an occasional migrant 
 into New England, having been taken once at least as far 
 south as Connecticut, and is supposed to breed possibly in 
 Northern Maine, its nidification in Nova Scotia may at least 
 be conjectured. This gigantic bird seems to be a stranger 
 to observers of every locality. Even my excellent Hudson's 
 Bay correspondent simply records him as a resident, with- 
 out note or comment. Without any further information, 
 therefore, of vocal capacity and habits, or diet, or nidifica- 
 tion, we may presume that in all respects he is exceedingly 
 owlish, and in every way worthy to be the giant of his 
 race. 
 
 Having no specimens at hand, I copy a description from 
 Mr. Maynard, who is always very accurate in such matters: 
 " Form, robust; size, very large; sternum, stout; the mar- 
 ginal indentations are quite deep; tongue, thick and fleshy, 
 horny at the tip, which is rounded and slightly bifid. 
 
510 THE GOSHAWK. 
 
 Color adult above, including rump and upper tail 
 coverts, sooty-brown, mottled and transversely banded with 
 ashy-white; wings and tail, dusky-brown, transversely 
 banded with ashy-white; under parts, including under 
 wing and tail coverts, ashy-white, longitudinally streaked 
 with sooty-brown, the streakings being more numerous on 
 the breast, with transverse bands of the same color on the 
 abdomen and under tail coverts. The face is grayish, 
 barred with dusky, and the eyes are nearly surrounded by 
 a ring of the same dark color." 
 
 Similar to the above, in form and general appearance, is 
 the Barred Owl (Strix nebulosd). About 18.00 long and 
 40.00 in extent, the upper parts are brown, barred with 
 white and tinged with reddish; the lower parts, which are 
 lighter, have the markings crosswise on the breast, and 
 lengthwise or barred below. This hooting species, inclining 
 to disappear with the breaking up of the large tracts of 
 forest, seems rare in Western New York. It is quite com- 
 mon in New England, and to the eastward generally, from 
 Newfoundland to Florida. The nests are in a hollow or 
 crotch of a tree, the white egg being about 2.00X1.70. 
 
 It may be proper to mention Richardson's Owl (Nyctale 
 tengmalmi) in this connection. As an occasional migrant 
 into New England, like the former, having been taken once 
 even in Connecticut, being reported by Mr. M. Chamber- 
 lain as taken in New Brunswick in August, and its nest 
 having been found by Mr. Perham in the Magdalen Islands, 
 we may fairly suppose that it breeds in Nova Scotia. Mr. 
 J. Matthew Jones, of Halifax, some time since, reported 
 it as found in the province. This is one of our smaller and 
 most hyperborean Owls. "Above, olivaceous chocolate- 
 brown, spotted with white; beneath, white, spotted and 
 streaked, and streaked with a brown similar to the back, but 
 
BICKNELL'S THRUSH. 511 
 
 a little darker; disk, white; a white spot between bill and 
 eye; wings and tail with white spots on both webs, the latter 
 with from 8-10 pairs; bill, light yellow; iris, yellow; tarsus 
 feathered; * * * length, 10.00; extent, 21.00-23.00; 
 wing, 7.25; tail, 4.50." (Stearns.) 
 
 The nest, found in the Magdalen Islands June 13th, by 
 Mr. Perham, "was placed in a hole of a dead birch tree 
 not far from the ground, and contained four young and one 
 addled egg." Eggs, four to five, rather spherical, pure 
 white, very smooth; dimensions, 1.06X1.28-1.10X1.32. In 
 every way this species would seem to be quite similar to 
 the Acadian Owl, except that it is notably larger. 
 
 BICKNELL'S THRUSH. 
 
 Off the southwest end of Nova Scotia, opposite Yarmouth 
 and Shelburne counties, are a large number of islands one 
 for every day in the year, they say. On leaving the harbor 
 of the city of Yarmouth, off to the westward and well out 
 to sea, are Green Island and Gannet Rock. Then come 
 the Tusket Islands, many in number, and of varied size, 
 form and appearance, some being partly cultivated, some 
 wholly wooded, and the outermost almost as smooth as a 
 lawn; these last are called the Bold Tuskets. Farthest out 
 at sea, and very nearly on an extended line between the 
 two counties mentioned, are the Mud Islands and Seal 
 Island. These are almost entirely covered with a low 
 growth of evergreens black spruce and balsam fir. Except 
 the Robin, the Song Sparrow, the Snow-bird, and a few 
 Redstarts and Winter Wrens, almost the only small land- 
 birds breeding here are the Black-poll Warbler and Bick- 
 nell's Thrush the last two being very abundant. 
 
 This Thrush (the Black-poll I have described) was wholly 
 new to me. My attention was first arrested by its call, or 
 
512 BICKNELL'S THRUSH. 
 
 alarm note, which sounded like cree-e-e-e-eep, or quee-a, or 
 cree-e-e-ee, on a rather high, fine key. It had some resem- 
 blance to the call of Wilson's Thrush, but was unmistakably 
 different; and as Mr. Brewster has noted (in Vol. viii, p. 12, 
 Nuttall Bulletin), is very particularly different from the 
 sharp liquid "//^, or peenk" of the typical Olive-back. The 
 song tsiderea, tstderea, tstderea, sometimes tsiderea, raz, tsidrea, 
 or some other modulation of the same theme, is similar in 
 tone to that of Wilson's Thrush, but more slender and 
 wiry, and therefore not nearly so grand and musical. In 
 the solitude of the evergreen islands, however, it is by no 
 means an inferior song, the sibilant strokes of the voice 
 being finely relieved by the more prolonged liquid vibra- 
 tions. A careful examination satisfied me that the bird 
 was Bicknell's Thrush (Turdus alicice bicknelli}, lately iden- 
 tified in the Catskills and in the White Mountains, and 
 named in honor of its discoverer. It was so abundant, and 
 not particularly shy, for a Thrush, that I had the most 
 ample opportunity for the study of its habits; and several 
 specimens were secured and retained. Next to its lesser 
 size, in structural peculiarity, is its slender, depressed, and 
 finely carved bill, compared with which that of the typical 
 Olive-back seems thick and clumsy. While singing, which 
 occurred throughout the day, but more especially in the 
 evening twilight and early morning, the bird delighted to 
 perch in the top of the evergreens, often on the very tip, 
 where its bright brown figure with elevated head was quite 
 conspicuous. On the ground, and in taking its food, its 
 habits were precisely like those of other Thrushes. 
 
 To find the nest of this species was my great desideratum; 
 and, though the birds were very numerous, it was by no 
 means an easy task. Many an hour did I thread my way 
 through almost impenetrable evergreen thickets, every step 
 
THE BLACK GUILLEMOT. 513 
 
 muffled on a dense carpet of moss, before I could secure my 
 object. At last my search was rewarded by nests in con- 
 siderable numbers, and all as nearly alike in location, struct- 
 ure and materials as it is possible for nests to be. A few 
 feet from the ground and against the trunk of an evergreen 
 tree, it was composed, externally, of various kinds of mosses, 
 including a few fine sticks, weed-stems, and rootlets, and 
 was lined with fine grasses well bleached; so that, outside, 
 the nest was as green as a bunch of fresh mosses, and the 
 inside was light-brown. The eggs, some .87X.63, are light 
 bluish-green, specked with brown. About the Mud and Seal 
 Islands, dense fogs prevail almost continually throughout 
 the summer. This excessive moisture, so productive of 
 mosses, causes the moss in the walls of the Thrushes' nests 
 to grow; hence, the nests of previous years, well protected 
 from the weather by the dense evergreens, become elegant 
 moss-baskets, finely ornamented within and without with 
 the living cryptogams. I saw a number of such, which 
 looked as if they had grown in situ on the trees. 
 
 Some 7.00 or a little less in length, Bicknell's Thrush, as 
 above found, is uniform deep olive-brown above; the sides 
 of the white under parts being ashy-gray, and the sides of 
 the neck and the upper part of the breast but slightly tinged 
 with buff; while the neck and breast-spots are not so large 
 as in the typical swainsoni. To my eye the bird does not 
 appear so large as the rest of the Thrushes. 
 
 THE BLACK GUILLEMOT. 
 
 My first delight on reaching Seal Island was to study out 
 the breeding of the Black Guillemot ( Uria grylle), or Sea 
 Pigeon, or Sea Widgeon, as it is called on the Atlantic. 
 Along the coast, where the rounded boulders are heaped up 
 as if by giant hands in huge windrows above high water 
 83 
 
514 THE BLACK GUILLEMOT. 
 
 mark, the eggs were hid away; and the sitting bird Was, for 
 the most part, entirely out of sight. Had it not been for 
 my genial friend, John Crowell, and his fine Newfoundland 
 dogs, I should have seen but little of the nesting of these 
 elegant birds. As we scrambled along the immense ridge 
 of water-worn rocks, now high above the sea, the dogs 
 would every now and then halt and sniff eagerly among 
 the boulders. This sign Mr. C. understood full well, and 
 at once he would begin to roll away the rocks. Presently 
 the trim, shy bird could be seen covering her two eggs on 
 the sand or pebbles, and seemingly too much abashed to 
 make much effort to get away. About the size of a small 
 hen, 12-15 inches long, including the neck and bill, beauti- 
 fully black, glossed with green and purple, with a large white 
 spot in the wing-coverts, and webbed feet bright red this 
 is a most beautiful and gentle bird of the sea. Its form is 
 something like that of the smaller Grebes or Divers. In 
 winter it loses the bright red on the feet, and becomes 
 nearly white, merely retaining gray and dusky shades about 
 the upper parts. When perched on the rocks, it stands 
 almost upon end like a bottle; in spring it has a soft 
 plaintiff note, like kee-a, kee-a. The flight is low over the 
 water, straightforward and rapid. Like the rest of its 
 tribe, it feeds on small species of marine life. The eggs, 
 oval in form, 2.00-2.38 x 1.24-1.56, are delicate light-green 
 or greenish-white, specked, spotted, and blotched all over, 
 but especially at the large end, where there is sometimes a 
 wreath or continuous blotch, with dark-brown or black, and 
 pale lilac. This species breeds from Grand Menan and 
 Nova Scotia northward, and extends along the New Eng- 
 land coast in winter. 
 
 The Common or Foolish Guillemot, or Merre (Lomvia 
 troile), similar in form to the latter, except that the bill curves 
 
THE PUFFIN. 515 
 
 more, is thicker, and has the nostrils more covered, is 16 to 
 19 inches long, brownish-black above, the head and throat 
 being browner; under parts, from throat in summer, from 
 bill in winter, and in case' of young, white. This species 
 breeds in myriads on the rocky islands of Labrador and 
 northward, and used to breed as far south as Nova Scotia. 
 It sits almost up on end like a bottle, on a single egg which 
 is laid on the bare rock. The egg, 3. 00-3.50 x 1.96-2.12, and 
 quite pyriform in shape, varies from white to dark green, 
 and though sometimes plain, is generally blotched and 
 streaked in every way with dark colors. This species is 
 not nearly so common as the next on the New England 
 coast in winter, and is also on the Pacific Coast. 
 
 The Thick-billed or Brunnich's Guillemot (L. arra) is 
 similar in form, color, habit and distribution to the former, 
 but is always to be distinguished by its thick bill. It is very 
 much more common than the former species on the New 
 England coast in winter. 
 
 THE PUFFIN. 
 
 One of the oddest birds of the sea is the Puffin (Prater- 
 cula arcticd), or Noddy; Sea Parrot, as it is called by the 
 Nova Scotians. About 13.50 in length, short-legged, web- 
 footed, and with a curiously formed bill, flatly compressed, 
 it is blackish above and white underneath, the black above 
 extending around the short neck like a collar, and the white 
 on the cheeks continuing in a narrow line around the back 
 of the head, and becoming dusky at the base of the lower 
 mandible. The tip of the bill is red, streaked with yel- 
 low and dusky, and the base is blue, margined with red. 
 The callous at the corner of the mouth is yellow; the eye- 
 lids are pink, with blue appendages; the feet red. It bred 
 formerly in abundance on some of the Mud Islands, one of 
 
516 THE PUFFIN. 
 
 which Noddy Island is named for it, and a few breed 
 there still, as also on the Machias Ledge near Grand Menan; 
 but mostly they have been driven northward, where they 
 breed in great numbers. The nest is a hole in the bank, 
 like that of the Kingfisher, only not so deep, and contains one 
 egg, about 2.50X1.75, somewhat pointed, white or whitish, 
 obscurely spotted. In some places the bird lays in deep 
 holes and crevices of steep, rocky ledges. It belongs to the 
 same family with the Auks, and is found also in the Old 
 World. Its food is small crustaceans principally. 
 
 The Tufted Puffin (F. cirrata), an extremely northern 
 species, and belonging to the Pacific rather than to the 
 Atlantic, and similar to the last in general form, is blackish, 
 with a white face, and a long flowing bunch of loose yellow 
 feathers on each side of the head. The bill and feet are 
 red, and it is several inches longer than the former. The 
 young do not have the yellow crest. 
 
 The Razor-billed Auk ( Utamania tor da] also breeds spar- 
 ingly on the outlying rocky islands of Nova Scotia, as on 
 the Devil's Limb and Gannet Rock. About 18 inches long, 
 with pointed-tail and flatly-compressed bill, this bird is 
 brownish-black above and white beneath, the black bill hav- 
 ing a white curved line, and the back part of the wing being 
 edged with white. The feet are black, and the inside of the 
 mouth is bright yellow. The eggs, which are abundant in some 
 parts of Labrador, and are deposited singly "on the bare 
 rock of sea-girt cliffs," are some 3.00X2.00, oval, white, or 
 whitish, variously and heavily marked with dark-brown. 
 This bird is common on the New England Coast in winter. 
 Its food is small crustaceans and algee. 
 
 The Great Auk (Alca impennis), once abundant on our 
 northern coasts, and also on the northern coast of Europe, 
 is now supposed to be extinct. Its presence was attested 
 
THE COMMON CORMORANT. 517 
 
 by the earlier observers, and its bones are abundant in the 
 shell mounds on the New England coast. 
 
 The Sea Dove, or Dovekie (Alle nigricans), a very north- 
 ern species, is common to the coasts of Nova Scotia in 
 winter, as it is also to those of New England. This little 
 Ice-bird, as it is called by the fishermen, but 8.50 long, with 
 head and bill formed almost precisely like that of a Quail, 
 and with a short pointed tail, is blue-black above, white be- 
 neath, the mature bird having the throat and neck black in 
 summer, with stripes in the scapular, tips to the secondaries, 
 and spot over the eye, white. Several closely allied species 
 on the Pacific Coast are variously ornamented about the head 
 in maturity, as the Crested, the Whiskered, and the Knob- 
 billed Auks. 
 
 THE COMMON CORMORANT. 
 
 On the west side of Seal Island, and about a mile out, is 
 a high ledge of rocks called the Devil's Limb. Here a few 
 of the Common Cormorants, or Shags, as the fishermen 
 call them (Phalacrocorax carbo^, still attempt to breed. The 
 rocks are thoroughly white-washed with their excrements, 
 and the nests, placed in depressions and on shelvings of 
 the highest peaks of rocks, are quite bulky, and constructed 
 entirely of rock-weed, with which the ledge is heavily draped 
 up to high-water mark. In a pretty deep depression in the 
 center of the pile of rock-weeds are some 4 eggs, about 
 2. 62x1. 75, oblong-elliptical, light bluish-green, more or less 
 besmeared over with a white, limy deposit. No matter 
 how long they are cooked, the white of these eggs will not 
 become opaque. The rocky islands off the coast of Labra- 
 dor and Newfoundland, are a favorite breeding resort of 
 this species, as also of the Double-crested. Here in the soli- 
 tudes of tempestuous waters, this Raven of the Sea* fishes 
 
 * Cormorant, or the French Cormoran, is supposed to be derived from the Latin Corvus 
 marinas, or Sea Raven. 
 
518 
 
 THE COMMON CORMORANT. 
 
 and flourishes 
 in i mmense 
 numbers, with 
 less molesta- 
 tion by man, 
 than do those 
 numerous 
 kinds of water- 
 fowl whose 
 flesh or eggs 
 are a desidera- 
 tum. The huge 
 rocks, white- 
 washed and 
 plastered with , 
 excrements; | 
 the dark piles 
 of sea -weed, 
 with their com- 
 plements of 
 eggs; the 
 noisy growing 
 broods of 
 young of vari- 
 ous sizes (these 
 young always 
 to be associated 
 with decaying 
 food and other 
 filth); the im- 
 mense dark 
 figures of 
 their parents, 
 swarming in 
 
 THE COMMON CORMORANT. 
 
THE COMMON CORMORANT. 519 
 
 clouds and filling the air with their hoarse caws and croaks 
 these all constitute a scene which must be witnessed in order 
 to be appreciated. 
 
 Strongly characterized is this bird both in form and 
 color. The long, narrow body is greatly extended by 
 the long duck-like bill and neck, and by the long, broad, 
 fan-shaped tail, the entire length being about 3 feet. The 
 rather slender and terete bill much hooked at the point, the 
 naked space about the green eye, the white-bordered yellow 
 gula pouch, the crest, the pointed feathers along the wings 
 and back, the totipalmated feet, the backward position of 
 the legs making it stand upright like the Grebes, and the 
 use it makes of its tail in bracing itself like a tripod, or in 
 supporting itself in woodpecker-style as it climbs over 
 rocks and bushes all these give it an individuality in form 
 which appeals strikingly to the eye. No less striking is the 
 peculiar and rich attire of this species. Such lustrous 
 black, such iridescence of violet-purple and green, with 
 dark borders to the pointed feathers of copper and bronze- 
 gray of the wings and back, would seem to indicate the 
 tropics rather than the cold fogs of the north. This mag- 
 nificent dark array is still further set off in summer by a 
 white patch on the flank, and numerous long, filamentous 
 white plumes on the head and neck. There are some 
 peculiarities in the skeleton of this bird, as " the long, bony 
 style in the nape," and the palate bones being not only 
 united, " but sending down a keel along their line of union;" 
 also "the interorbital septum is very defective." Though 
 awkward on land, the Cormorant is perfectly at home in 
 the air and on the water. Its flight is firm and grand; 
 and diving from the surface of the water for its prey, 
 it uses its wings as well as its feet in the submerged pur- 
 suit, being capable of remaining under the water for some 
 time. It is a most voracious eater, its diet consisting of fish 
 
520 THE COMMON CORMORANT. 
 
 of all kinds. In winter this species strays southward along 
 the coast as far as Maryland. The Double-crested Cormo- 
 rant (Phalacrocorax dilophus) has about the same range as 
 the former, and is even more numerous. About 30-33 
 inches in length, it is a little shorter and smaller every 
 way than the former. In color it is very similar, except 
 that it has noticeably black shafts in the dark-edged 
 feathers of the wings and back, and it generally lacks the 
 white flank-patch common to the former species in sum- 
 mer. In form it is well differentiated, not only by the 
 double crest of curly black feathers, and of stray filamentous 
 white ones over the eyes and along the sides of the neck, 
 in the mature dress of summer, but by its gular patch, 
 straight edged behind, while in the former it is heart- 
 shaped, and by its 12 tail-feathers instead of the 14 of the 
 former. The young of both species is plain dark brown, 
 paler or grayish below. 
 
 The Florida Cormorant (var. floridans) is simply a smaller 
 and more southern variety of the Double-crested species. 
 The bill, however, is as large if not larger, and it would seem 
 that the white plumes are not developed; " Resident on the 
 Floridan and Gulf Coast, breeding by thousands on the man- 
 grove bushes; in summer ranging up the Mississippi Valley 
 to Ohio, and along the coast to North Carolina." (Coues.) 
 
 The Cormorants sometimes stray quite a distance from 
 the sea on the fresh-water courses during the migrations. 
 They have been taken on Niagara River.* 
 
 *The manner in which a certain species of the Cormorant (P. Sznensis) fishes for his 
 master is well known. Buffon says : " They are regularly educated to fishing, as men 
 rear Spaniels or Hawks, and one man can easily manage a hundred. The fisherman car- 
 ries them out into a lake, perched on the gunnel of his boat ; where they continue 
 tranquil, and wait for his orders with patience. When arrived at the proper place, on the 
 first signal, each flies a different way to fulfill the task assigned to it. It is pleasant on this 
 occasion to behold with what sagacity they portion out the lake or canal where they are upon 
 duty. They hunt about, they plunge, they rise a hundred times to the surface, until they 
 have at last found their prey. They then seize it by the middle, and carry it to their 
 master. When the fish is too large, they assist each other; one seizes it by the head, and 
 another by the tail, and in this manner they carry it to the boat together. There the 
 boatman stretches out one of his long oars, on which they perch, and, after being de- 
 livered of their burden, again fly off to pursue their sport. When they are wearied, he suf- 
 fers them to rest awhile ; but they are never fed until their work is over." 
 
THE GANNET. 521 
 
 THE GANNET. 
 
 About seven miles out at sea from Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, 
 on Gannet Rock, surrounded by the surging sea and acces- 
 sible only after a long calm, the Common Gannet or Solan * 
 Goose (Sula bassand) still breeds in considerable numbers. 
 About 31 inches long, the long bill is stout at the base, taper- 
 ing to a point, and slightly decurved at the tip, being cleft to 
 beyond the eyes, and having the edges serrate or lacerate; 
 the wings are long and pointed; the long, stiff tail is wedge- 
 shaped and 12-14 feathered; and the feet are nearer to the 
 center of the body than is common to the order. The gen- 
 eral form resembles that of a Goose. The color of the 
 adult is white with black primaries, and an amber-yellow 
 wash over the head; lores and bill bluish or dusky, small, 
 naked gular sack, and feet, blackish, the latter having the 
 front of the tarsus and the toes greenish. The young, 
 which are white in the down, become gray, with a triangular 
 white spot in the tip of each feather, and in England and 
 Scotland are taken in great numbers as food. 
 
 Spread out in flight, the. snowy Gannet is a grand figure. 
 Its movement is firm and steady, alternately flapping 
 and sailing. 
 
 Scarcely can the Gull, the Buzzard, or the Eagle cut finer 
 circles in the air, and nothing is more characteristic of this 
 bird than its manner of diving for food. It does not drop 
 down upon the surface of the water, after the manner of the 
 Gulls and Terns, nor does it dive from the surface like the 
 Cormorants and so many other birds, but pitches straight 
 down, headforemost, with almost closed wings, from a con- 
 siderable or even a great height in the air, shooting out of 
 sight with great force amidst the spray. Taking advantage 
 of this direct and swift movement, the old countrymen 
 
 * Solan is a corruption of Solent, the name of the narrow sea between the Isle of Wight 
 and the main land of England, where this species is common. 
 
522 THE GANNET. 
 
 place a platform under the surface of the water, fastening 
 herrings or other fishes over it, so that the Gannets break 
 their necks in striking it, or fasten themselves by their bills 
 in the wood. They are ready detectives and close attend- 
 ants upon shoals of fish, and so are of great service in 
 directing the fishermen. No matter how high a point in 
 the air the Gannet descends from, so complete is the adjust- 
 ment of his eye, in the rapid passage of the distance to 
 the water, that it seldom if ever fails to rise with its prey. 
 It is also a bird of select diet, disdaining, unless sorely 
 pressed by hunger, anything beneath a herring or mackerel. 
 
 Though this short-legged species shuffles along awk- 
 wardly on the ground, it swims buoyantly, aided by its 
 highly aerated body even to the air-cells between the body 
 and the skin, and by its totipalmate feet, the four long toes 
 being completely webbed. 
 
 Every careful observer must have noted a certain peculiar 
 evolution of the Gannet in flight. When large numbers are 
 pursuing a shoal of fish, circling like kites over the spot, 
 they will keep forming into a broad perpendicular proces- 
 sion downward into the waves, and shooting out of the 
 water some distance off, will sweep up again into the mov- 
 ing mass, to take their places in due time in the continu- 
 ously moving column. The intersecting circles, against the 
 sky, of the immense moving multitudes overhead, might 
 suggest a monstrous snow-storm; and no whirl of winder 
 water could be grander or more precise than this circulat- 
 ing mass of spirited living beings. The same grand 
 evolution may be seen about the bastion-like rocks 
 in the wild ocean, where they breed in almost count- 
 less numbers. Filling the air by thousands and tens of 
 thousands, and moving out, up, and back, they will pour 
 down over the huge cliffs to the surging, roaring sea, 
 
THE CAN NET. 523 
 
 like an immense living torrent, the stentorious volume of 
 their hoarse croaks and screams becoming almost terrific, 
 mingling weirdly with the sound of the waters. No 
 bird is more gregarious than the Gannet, hence this im- 
 mense concentration of numbers at their principal breeding 
 grounds. The bulky nests, of sea-weeds and rubbish gath- 
 ered from the sea, are placed along the shelvings and tops 
 of the rocks at regular distances and sometimes in peculiar 
 order. Audubon likened them to rows of corn, and the 
 fishermen say they are built like a town. Mr. Maynard 
 thinks these regular distances are determined by the 
 quarrelsome disposition of the Gannets, keeping the im- 
 mense numbers simply beyond fighting distance. In this 
 degree of proximity, they sometimes cover large spaces of 
 ground, so that one writer speaks of seeing a quarter of an 
 acre of Gannets on their nests. 
 
 The ordinarily single egg, about 3.15X2.00, oval, plain 
 greenish-blue, and encrusted with a lime deposit, appears 
 to be incubated by both sexes, they being, however, indis- 
 tinguishable in color. They are not easily driven from the 
 nest, and on being disturbed will disgorge their undigested 
 food. The young are said to take with their pointed-like 
 bills the partially digested food from the open throats of the 
 parents. 
 
 Diving fiercely at other birds which may come in their 
 way, the Gannets, also, fight furiously among themselves, 
 will clasp each other by the bill, and roll down the heights 
 into the sea, all unconscious of everything around them. 
 
 Gannet Rock, near Yarmouth, and another Gannet Rock, 
 near Grand Menan, are the most southern breeding resorts 
 known; while Bird Rock, near the Magdalen Islands, and 
 the Island of Bonaventure, near Gaspe, are the principal 
 breeding grounds in the north. In winter the birds are 
 
524 THE PIPING PLOVER. 
 
 common along the coasts of New England, and may stray 
 even to the Gulf. The species is common also to Europe, 
 breeding in great numbers about the Hebrides. 
 
 THE PIPING PLOVER. 
 
 In suitable places on Mud and Seal Islands, as also at some 
 other points along the shores of the province, the Piping 
 Plover (/Egialites melodus) is a summer resident in small num- 
 bers. It seems entirely to avoid rocks and mud, and never 
 leaves the sea for even the most inviting shores of our great 
 rivers. Clean sand-beaches of the ocean are its chosen resort. 
 Here it attracts attention both by its appearance and by its 
 voice. Of all our little shore birds, this is, perhaps, the 
 most graceful and rapid runner; its tiny feet spinning along 
 the sand, and its light-colored body shooting on in a straight 
 line, so that its form becomes lost to the eye, and only a 
 gliding white spot is visible as the observers along the 
 shore say "like a snow-ball rolling on the sand." The 
 Waders, as a class, are distinguished by their whistling 
 notes; hence the hunter, imitating the voice peculiar to each, 
 " whistles them down," as it is said. The Piping Plover, 
 however, cannot be called a " whistler," nor even a "piper," 
 in an ordinary sense. Its tone has a particularly striking 
 and musical quality. Queep, queep, queep-o, or peep, peep, 
 peep-lo y each syllable being uttered with a separate, distinct, 
 and somewhat long-drawn enunciation, may imitate its 
 peculiar melody the tone of which is round, full, and 
 sweet, reminding one of a high key on an Italian hand- 
 organ, or the hautboy in a church organ. It is always 
 pleasing to the lover of nature's melodies, and in the still 
 air of the evening, it is very impressive. As the Piping 
 Plover is abundant about the dunes along our more south- 
 ern Atlantic Coast, and may be found even to the Gulf of 
 
THE PIPING PLOVER. 5^5 
 
 the St. Lawrence, its melody may be regarded as character- 
 istic of those shores; and strangely in contrast with the 
 harsh, guttural, rattling voices of the sea fowl in general, it is 
 the most melodious of all bird-notes along our ocean. 
 
 About 7.50 long and 15.50 in extent, this species ranks 
 among our smaller Waders. In form, it is distinctly 
 a Plover. Bill, orange at base and black at tip ; upper 
 parts pale brownish-ash, often almost ashy-white ; under 
 parts neck and forehead, white; streak across the forehead 
 above the white, and ring around the neck broader on the 
 sides, and almost obliterated above and below black; 
 wings light-brown, inner edges of the secondaries and outer 
 edges of the primaries, white, tipped with brown; coverts 
 tipped with white; the nearly even tail is white at base, 
 outside feather white, the next white with a spot of black- 
 ish, the rest brown; ring around the full, black eye, yellow; 
 legs, orange; claws, black; under side of wings, pure white. 
 The general appearance of the bird when in motion is 
 almost white, and so lighter than the sand-beaches on which 
 it runs; but it is scarcely discernible thereon when it 
 is standing still. Its flight is rapid and often prolonged, 
 being performed both by continual flapping and by gliding. 
 
 The nest of this bird is a mere hollow in the sand on the 
 open beach. Sometimes it may be sheltered by the scanty 
 vegetation found on the sand. The 4 eggs, about 1.15X-97, 
 are pointed, light-brown or dark cream, distinctly but finely 
 specked and spotted with dark-brown or black, there being 
 an under marking of pale-ash. On ordinary summer days, 
 the eggs do not need anything more than the warmth of 
 the sun on the sand to secure incubation; but in chilly or 
 wet weather, and at night, the female adheres closely to the 
 nest. The male is never far from the nest, and should you 
 approach it, night or day, he will at once report himself as its 
 
526 THE WILLET. 
 
 brave defender. Like the young of other Waders, the little 
 Pipers are precocious, running as soon as they are free from 
 the shell. They are covered with a gray down, mottled with 
 brown, and their soft notes at once resemble those of the 
 parents. As is the case with all the little precoces, they are 
 ever on the alert for any alarm note given by the wary 
 parent, . and will squat so closely on the sand, which they 
 resemble in color, that it is almost impossible to detect them. 
 The food of the Piping Plover consists of small crusta- 
 ceans, and marine insects in general; and being commonly 
 in good condition, its flesh is very savory. It is found in 
 winter from South Carolina to Florida Keys, and is abund- 
 ant at this time in the West India Islands, where a few 
 probably remain to breed. 
 
 THE WILLET. 
 
 That large and elegant wader, the Willet, Humility or 
 White- wing (Totanus semipalmatus), breeds in the marshes of 
 the Chebogue and Tusket Rivers, in Yarmouth County, 
 Nova Scotia. Mr. Benjamin Doan, of the City of Yar- 
 mouth, had the young in the down from the former locality; 
 and I was credibly informed that they are quite common 
 in the latter. 
 
 This bird, which I find occasionally on Niagara River in 
 the migrations, is some 14.50 in length, wing 7.50, tail 2.75, 
 bill 2.25. The bill and feet are light blue, the former dusky 
 at the tip. In its summer plumage, the head and neck are 
 brownish-gray streaked with dusky; the upper part of the 
 back, and the scapulars, also brownish-gray, the feathers 
 being centered or barred with dark-brown; the lower part 
 of the back, olivaceous-gray; wing-coverts gray, the centers 
 lined with dusky; the basal half of the dusky primaries is 
 clear white, the white secondaries adjoining making a large 
 
THE WILLET. 527 
 
 white patch in the extended wing; the throat, a band over the 
 eye, the breast and sides and tail-coverts, are white, the sides 
 and tail-coverts having bars or undulating lines of dusky; 
 the tail, having the central feathers a little longer, is gray, 
 becoming white on the sides, and spotted with brown or 
 dusky. In the winter the upper parts are more or less 
 marked with yellowish-white, and the under parts are finely 
 barred with brown; the axillaries also are brown. A 
 characteristic feature of this species is its semipalmated 
 toes, enabling it to swim quite well when it has occasion to 
 take to the water. Indeed, it seems much more fond of the 
 water than most shore-birds, frequently wading up to its 
 belly, or taking a plunge-bath as it stands in the water. 
 Writers of the best authority attest to its alighting on the 
 branches of trees. Large and robust, it appears to the very 
 best advantage in its flight, which is firm and rapid. Ordi- 
 narily it is a very noisy bird, \\.s pill-will-willit, will-willit,pill- 
 will-willit, being frequent and loud, both on the ground and 
 on the wing. In the breeding time, however, it becomes 
 rather silent, unless disturbed; then the neighbors join in 
 angry vociferations, as they circle over the head of the in- 
 truder. The bird has also a soft and rather mournful note 
 while standing on the ground. 
 
 The Willet does not belong to those birds which make 
 their nests on the open beach by simply scooping out a 
 little hollow in the sand. It seeks the shelter of the marshes, 
 building quite a bulky nest in some tussock of grass; the 
 nest being raised, sometimes, as much as five or six inches, 
 and composed of dried rushes and grasses. As it is pretty 
 well rimmed up, the four pyriform eggs, lying with their 
 points together, seem almost to stand on the points, pre- 
 senting their larger ends to the body of the bird. The 
 eggs, about 2.00X1.50, are brownish or greenish drab, gen- 
 
528 THE PURPLE SANDPIPER. 
 
 erally pretty dark, but sometimes lighter, pretty largely and 
 distinctly spotted with dark brown and neutral, the mark- 
 ings sometimes forming a blotched and scrolled wreath 
 around the large end. The young are gray, with dark 
 markings. 
 
 The Willet is a rather southerly species, breeding, 
 indeed, from the West Indies to Labrador, but being 
 much more abundant to the south. Nor is it confined to 
 the sea-shore, as was formerly supposed. Dr. Coues says: 
 " I have found it wherever I have been in the United States. 
 There were a few on the Upper Rio Grande when I crossed 
 that river in June, 1864, and during the same month I saw 
 many more westward, in New Mexico, especially along the 
 Zuni River, where I am sure they were breeding. Some 
 resided in a marshy tract near Fort Whipple, in Arizona. 
 Others occurred to me in June and July in Eastern Dakota." 
 They are also officially reported from the Northwest Terri- 
 tory, as "frequent on the borders of salt lakes and ponds." 
 The Willet has never been found, however, in very high 
 latitudes. 
 
 In respect to the food of the Willet, it may be said, once 
 for all, that all the Waders feed on small mollusks and crus- 
 taceans, aquatic insects, and sand-worms. 
 
 THE PURPLE SANDPIPER. 
 
 A common winter resident about the rocky shores of 
 Nova Scotia, and particularly those of outlying islands, is 
 the Purple Sandpiper (Tringa marittma). It is especially 
 common, in flocks of considerable size, sometimes as many 
 as a hundred, on Mud and Seal Islands, where they arrive in 
 December, and remain till May. These Rock Snipe, as 
 they are sometimes called, will crowd together, a whole 
 flock on a single rock, thus affording an excellent mark for 
 
THE TERNS. 529 
 
 the sportsman. When flying, and also when gleaning their 
 food, they have a fine whistling twitter, which appeals 
 readily to the ear of the trained hunter. 
 
 About 9.50 long and nearly 15.00 in extent, this species has 
 the head, neck and breast dusky-gray, the feathers of the 
 latter tipped with white; wings and tail, dusky; the second- 
 aries, tertiaries, and coverts of the former, edged with 
 white; belly, vent, and wing-linings, white; back, dark, 
 glossy-purple, edged with gray; eyes, dark. In this com- 
 plete plumage, the bird is simply elegant. In winter, "the 
 lower parts are pale gray, while the upper have the purple 
 tints much fainter, the white edging substituted by dull 
 gray." (Audubon.) 
 
 The Purple Sandpiper, chiefly a bird of the coast, but 
 sometimes touching the Great Lakes in its winter tours, 
 and reaching the coast of the Middle States, breeds to the 
 far north. The egg " is of the usual pyriform shape, and 
 measures about 1.40 by 1.00. The ground is clay-color, 
 shaded with olivaceous; the markings are large, numerous 
 and distinct, of rich umber-brown of different depths and 
 intensity, occurring all over the shell, but being most nu- 
 merous as well as largest on the major half. With these 
 spots are associated shell-markings of pale purplish-gray 
 and light neutral tint." (Coues.) 
 
 THE TERNS. 
 
 Outside of Mahone Bay, on the south shore of Nova 
 Scotia, are several islands of interest in respect to orni- 
 thology. Flat Island, near Tancook, is a grand resort for 
 several species of Terns. It comprises about a hundred 
 acres, is clear of trees, and, as its name implies, is compara- 
 tively level. Ledges of slate crop out here and there, how- 
 ever, forming low ridges, with marshy patches intervening. 
 34 
 
530 THE TERNS. 
 
 As one approaches the rocky shores, large numbers of Terns 
 are seen scouring the surface of the water for food. Of all 
 the birds of our northern seas, these are the most elegant 
 and graceful. Mackerel Gulls, the fishermen call them, but, 
 though nearly related to them, they are no Gulls at all. 
 Bearing a resemblance in almost every point to these larger 
 and more bulky birds, they are of a much more slender 
 and delicate mould. Small and light-bodied, fork-tailed, 
 with slender pointed bill, long pointed wings, and small 
 webbed feet, they are the very ideal of a swimming bird of 
 flight. In no respect are they divers, but birds of the air, 
 which delight to sport on the surface of the waters. Their 
 color, too, is at once the most chaste and elegant. The soft 
 silvery-gray of the upper parts harmonizes finely with the 
 sea and sky. The lighter tints, or white of the under 
 parts, is pure as the snowy crests of foam; while the crowns 
 of glossy-black, and the bills and feet of coral-red, are 
 points of bright and pleasing contrast. What a powerful 
 leverage in the air have those long pointed wings, raising 
 the light body several inches at every stroke, and serving it 
 as a well-trimmed sail before the wind. How lightly this 
 bird drops upon the water for its food of tiny fishes, 
 being too light and airy to dive out of sight, and often 
 carrying its prey like a toy for some time, as if it fished for 
 sport rather than from hunger. Occasionally a group of 
 Terns will play together with a little fish, one seizing it in 
 the air as another drops it, and so passing it from bill to bill, 
 apparently for the sheer sport of catching it. As the Tern 
 flies low over the water, its downward-pointing bill moving 
 this way and that, it seems to be fishing in earnest; and 
 again it gyrates high in air, light, agile and airy as a Swal- 
 low, and so suggests the propriety of one of its names 
 the Sea Swallow. 
 
THE TERNS. 531 
 
 It is on their breeding grounds, however, that the Terns 
 may be studied to the best advantage. As one lands on Flat 
 Island, the air in every direction seems alive with them. 
 They rise beyond gun-shot, the great mass intersecting their 
 snowy circles against the sky, and the aggregate of their 
 hoarse ter-r-r-r-r-r, ter-r-r-r-r-r, becoming almost deafen- 
 ing. As one approaches the nesting places, which are here 
 and there all over the island, some will drop down and 
 hover noisily .only a few yards above one's head. Then it 
 is that the pure under parts, the gracefully spread tail, the 
 bright eyes, and the bills and feet of bright carmine, appear 
 to the best advantage. In all their varying attitudes, this 
 moving cloud of lithe and elegant creatures is a most pleas- 
 ing and animating study. 
 
 In this dense moving mass, the species far the most nu- 
 merous is the Arctic Tern {Sterna macrurd). Length, 14.00- 
 17.00; extent, 28.00-30.00; tail, 5.00-8.00; bill, 1.20-1.40; 
 tarsus, .50-. 6 7. This kind is a little more bulky than the 
 Wilson. It is also generally distinguishable by its darker 
 under parts and its bill of clear carmine, but is invariably 
 so by its short tarsus only a half inch or a little more. In 
 winter, and during the second summer, the fore part of the 
 crown is white, as it is also in the young of the year in its 
 mottled plumage of gray and brown, which was once called 
 the Portland Tern. The young have the bill and feet black 
 and the under parts white, even into the second summer. 
 Habitat: Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, generally, 
 south to the Middle States, and on the Pacific Coast to Cali- 
 fornia. Breeds from Massachusetts northward. 
 
 Next in number, but few in comparison with the former, 
 as is also the case in all the breeding places of the Terns 
 visited on the coasts of the Province, is Wilson's, or the 
 Common Tern {Sterna hirundo). Length, some 14.00; extent, 
 
632 THE TERNS. 
 
 about 30.00; tarsus .66-87, and so, noticeably larger than 
 that of the Arctic, except in the points noted, the two species 
 are very similar, even to the voice. In habitat, however, 
 the Wilson belongs to the whole Atlantic Coast, breeding 
 more or less throughout its range. In New England it 
 breeds the most commonly of all its family. The black cap 
 is retained during the winter, but is more or less imperfect 
 in the young, which are also beautifully mottled with gray 
 and light-brown, with more or less dusky on the wing coverts 
 and tail. As in the young of the former, the under parts 
 are white, but the base of the bill and the feet are yellowish. 
 I found this species breeding in large numbers on one of 
 the Western Islands in Georgian Bay, and a few laying 
 their eggs on the muskrat houses on St. Clair Flats. I think 
 they breed in the higher regions of the Great Lakes, gen- 
 erally. 
 
 Among the flocks of Terns on Flat Island, I was not a 
 little surprised to find a few of the Roseate Terns (Sterna 
 paradised). From what I had learned in the books, I should 
 have scarcely expected to find this species as far north as 
 Portland, Maine. Even on the wing it was readily distin- 
 guishable from the rest of its kind. Some 12.00-16.00 in 
 length, and so a little less than Wilson's Tern, its tail is at 
 least an inch longer, and its entire form is more slender and 
 graceful, so much so as to be noticeable even in the distance. 
 Other Terns appear almost clumsy in comparison with it. 
 
 The bill is black, except, perhaps, a slight patch of orange 
 at the base below; the silvery curtain above is lighter and 
 more exquisitely delicate, even, than in the rest of the Terns; 
 the black cap extends well down the nape; the feet are dark 
 orange, and the under parts are white, tinted throughout, 
 even including the tail-coverts, with a delicate rose, the 
 texture and color of the plumage being such as scarcely to 
 
THE TERNS. 533 
 
 be rivaled by the most exquisite rose-tinted satin. The 
 newly shot specimen is simply charming, but the brightness 
 of the plumage is not retained after death. Indeed, all the 
 Terns seem to lose their highest beauty when cold, their 
 extreme delicacy of color being consistent only with the 
 warm glow of life. A bird is a highly specialized and 
 beautiful object, especially the more chastely colored birds 
 of the sea ; but what on the whole Atlantic can equal the 
 graceful form bill and crown of ebony, back of burnished 
 silver, hoary dark-tipped wings, and breast of blushing rose 
 of this Roseate Tern ? The more gorgeous birds of the 
 tropics compare with it, only as the dahlia and the peony 
 with the rose and the water-nymph. In motion it is no less 
 charming, its flight being peculiarly airy and dashing, the 
 slender pointed wings and long forked tail being the most 
 graceful possible. 
 
 The note of this Tern always advised me of its presence. 
 I could not make out the " hew-it, repeated at frequent in- 
 tervals," but only essentially the same ter-r-r-r-r, ter-r-r-r-r, 
 as given by the other Terns, only on a lower key and in a 
 rougher, hoarser tone, or occasionally in a much higher 
 tone, as if aspiring to a fine falsetto. Muskegat Island, near 
 Nantucket, seems to be the principal breeding place of this 
 species. 
 
 I did not see Forster's Tern (Sterna forsteri} in Nova 
 Scotia. New England ornithologists testify to its rarity 
 on their coast. Its place of breeding is believed to be in 
 the upper regions of the Great Lakes. Only a few nest, 
 like Wilson's Terns, on the muskrat-houses of St. Clair Flats. 
 Mr. Maynard informs me that they have bred in large 
 numbers on Cobb's Island, off the coast of Virginia. About 
 the size and form of Wilson's Tern, this species seems to be 
 the counterpart of that, the under parts being pure white 
 
534 THE TERNS. 
 
 instead of drab, and the tail silvery instead of white, the 
 outer vane of the long outer feathers, white, and the inner 
 darker Jjhan the rest of the tail. In the winter plumage it 
 is distinguishable by the disappearing of the black crown, 
 except a black stripe on each side of the head. Its note is 
 similar to that of the Common Tern, but noticeably on a 
 lower key. 
 
 The nesting of the four species of Terns above given is 
 quite similar, and under certain circumstances quite 
 variable. Commonly, the nest is a depression in the 
 ground, with a slight arrangement of dried grasses. If the 
 nest is in the grass, it may be quite well built up; if on the 
 shore, it may be only a slight hollow in the sand; or fine 
 pebbles or bits of slate may be circularly arranged, after 
 the manner of the Killdeer; or the egg or eggs may be laid 
 directly on the green sward. The complete number of eggs 
 is most commonly two, often one, sometimes three. About 
 1.74x 1.13 and regularly ovate, they are some shade of light- 
 green or light-brown, variously specked, spotted ,and 
 blotched with dark-brown and neutral, the markings pre- 
 dominating at the large end. 
 
 In some breeding places near the southwest end of the 
 province, I could identify none but the Arctic Terns; and 
 so could feel very well assured that I was examining 
 nothing but Arctic Terns' nests; but where several of the 
 above species of Terns breed in community, I do not see 
 how the eggs and nests can be specifically determined, 
 their similarity is so great, and the birds invariably leave 
 the nests before one comes near them. From eggs well 
 identified, I should think that possibly the ground-color of 
 the eggs of the Arctic tends rather to green, and that of 
 the Wilson to brown. More than that I could not affirm, as 
 to any appreciable. difference in the eggs of these two species. 
 
THE LAUGHING GULL. 535 
 
 The Caspian Tern (Sterna caspia), a much larger species 
 even than the Royal Tern of the South Atlantic, must be 
 found on the coast of Nova Scotia in the migrations, for it 
 breeds far to the north, and "must be considered a regular 
 visitor every season, and one by no means uncommon," 
 on the New England Coast. 
 
 THE LAUGHING GULL. 
 
 Amidst the clouds of Terns on Flat Island could be seen 
 some eight or ten Black-headed or Laughing Gulls (Larus 
 atricilld]. They generally arose from and kept near a slaty 
 ridge which ran lengthwise through the island, and from 
 their greater size, more robust form, and complete black or 
 dark plumbous head, were very conspicuous among their 
 smaller and more delicately formed neighbors. Its digni- 
 fied, buzzard-like sailing, too, amidst the constantly moving 
 wings around it, marked it as a Gull. From the hoarse 
 clatter of the Terns, one could distinguish its long-drawn, 
 clear note, on a high key, sounding not unlike the more 
 excited call-note of the Domestic Goose; and every now 
 and then it would give its prolonged, weird laughter, which 
 has given rise to its common name. To one who has heard 
 it, it might be imitated by the syllables, hah-ha-ha-ha-ha- 
 hah-hah-hah, all of which are uttered on a high, clear tone, 
 the last three or four syllables, and especially the last one, 
 being drawn out with peculiar and prolonged effect; the 
 whole sounding like the odd and excited laughter of an 
 Indian Squaw, and giving marked propriety to the name of 
 the bird. I was much surprised to find this so-called 
 southern species so far north. Mr. Everett Smith, of Port- 
 land, Maine, had given me no encouragement as to finding 
 it about the coast of that State; and Mr. J. N. Clark, of 
 Saybrook, Conn., thought it but an uncertain resident in 
 
536 THE LAUGHING GULL. 
 
 his district. How eager was I to find the nest of the 
 Laughing Gull in Nova Scotia. The gentleman who ac- 
 companied me, though no ornithologist, caught my enthu- 
 siasm, and having a keen eye, and being a natural hunter, 
 he soon descried a nest with two fresh eggs. It was quite 
 a nest, composed of weed-stems, small sticks and dried 
 grasses. The eggs, some 2. 20 X 1.60, were rather dark oliva- 
 ceous-brown, almost the color of a Loon's egg, variously 
 spotted and blotched with dark brown and neutral. The 
 eggs of this species are commonly much lighter, resembling 
 in color and form those of the Gulls and Terns generally. 
 The nest under consideration was placed on one side of the 
 slaty ridge referred to, at its base, just where a marshy flat 
 with low shrubbery began. Indeed, it was under the edge of 
 the first row of alder bushes. 
 
 The Laughing Gull is about 18.00 long; wing, 12.00; tar- 
 sus, 2.00; middle toe and claw, 1.50; bill, 1.75; tip decurved 
 and pointed; gonys prominent and sharp; mantle clear, dark 
 silvery-gray; head, slaty-black; eye-lids, white; first primary, 
 nearly all black; the black decreasing on the following 
 primaries to the sixth; the few white tips small or wanting; 
 bill and feet, dusky carmine. In winter, head white, with 
 grayish spots about head and neck; the feet and bill, dusky. 
 The young are brown above, and grayish or whitish below. 
 
 This is particularly a bird of the sea-coast, breeding but 
 sparingly along New England, but becoming more common 
 southward, and breeding in great numbers along the South 
 Atlantic States, and even to the Bahamas. When associated 
 in great flocks, and circling high in air, their pure white 
 under parts, with the head and wing-tips like black specks 
 against the sky, give a peculiarly novel and beautiful effect; 
 while their social nature, high grade of intelligence, and 
 striking vocal imitation of human laughter, bring them near 
 
LEACH'S PETREL. 537 
 
 to our sympathies almost into communion with human 
 
 ideas. 
 
 LEACH'S PETREL. 
 
 About five miles beyond Flat Island, and farthest out at 
 sea of all the islands in this locality, is Green Island, as it 
 is called in the vicinity, or Grass Island, as set down on the 
 
 
 LEACH'S PETREL. 
 
 maps and charts. Comprising about twenty acres, it is sur- 
 rounded by bluffs of rock, these being, no doubt, the out- 
 croppings of its solid foundation. The surface is a beauti- 
 ful bright green an oasis in this ocean desert. The soil is 
 a soft, brown, vegetable mould, appearing like bog- turf, 
 and showing that the position of the island was once very 
 different a swamp, perhaps, in the midst of the sea. A 
 number of islands along the coast of the province have this 
 appearance, and there are several at different points bearing 
 the name Green Island. Having secured a fine little sailing 
 
538 LEACH'S PETREL. 
 
 yacht at Mahone Bay, I had some difficulty in finding men 
 willing to make the trip to this island so far out at sea, and 
 where it is possible to land only in calm weather. The 
 day chosen was delightful, the sea smooth, and the 
 wind so favorable that we sailed out and back without 
 tacking. 
 
 The'great desideratum in visiting this spot was the study 
 of the breeding of the Petrels, or Mother Carey's Chickens. 
 I was not a little surprised when one of the company told 
 me I could smell the birds before we reached the island if 
 the wind were in the right direction. I protested that he 
 was simply practicing a joke on my credulity, but he seemed 
 veritably in earnest. Very truly, on approaching the island 
 on the leeward side, and while yet several rods distant, the 
 peculiar musky odor of the Petrels was in every breath of the 
 wind. The long swells carried our small boat, towed out 
 for landing, well upon the huge rocks, where we were 
 most cordially received by the keeper of the light-house 
 which the government has stationed here. The same Terns 
 which we found at Flat Island were breeding here, also, on 
 the ledges of the rocks, but in moderate numbers; and a 
 few of the Puffins, or Sea Parrots as they are called here, 
 had found a breeding place in the deep crevices of the rocks. 
 The Petrels, however, were the marvel of the place. Nearly 
 every square yard of turf was completely honey-combed 
 with their nesting burrows; and everywhere the air was 
 laden with their peculiar odor. Here and there the ground 
 was strewn with the wings and tails of the birds which 
 had been dug out and eaten by the dog belonging to the 
 light-house; the dog being kept without feeding, and obliged 
 to support himself entirely by this enterprise. The bur- 
 rows of the year were readily distinguished by their fresh 
 appearance and by the excavated dirt newly thrown out. 
 
LEACITS PETKEL. 539 
 
 Down on hands and knees we went to work, digging for 
 the sitting birds. The reddish mould, staining hands and 
 clothing of the operator, was quite mellow; and following 
 the sinuous course of the burrows, generally several feet 
 in length, the birds, each with its single egg, were soon 
 brought to light. Occasionally the burrow contained two 
 birds and no egg, the pair probably cohabiting previous to 
 incubation. On being unearthed, the birds seemed per- 
 fectly astounded and stupid dazed, perhaps, from having 
 the light of day thus suddenly let in upon them. Some- 
 times they would sidle off the egg; often they would per- 
 mit themselves to be taken without any effort to escape. If 
 thrown into the air they would come down again almost or 
 quite to the ground, striking against any object which might 
 happen to be in their way. Only after a few seconds could 
 they command their wonted agility and swiftness of wing. 
 Frequently, if taken in the hand, or flying against a bush 
 or a stump, they would vomit the clear yellow oil from 
 which their peculiar odor arises, and which is common to 
 the whole family of Petrels. This was Leach's Petrel 
 (Cymochorea leucorrhod), which breeds commonly along the 
 coast of Nova Scotia, and also on the northeastern coast of 
 Maine. About Mud and Seal Islands, N. S., their nests 
 could be found all through the woods in the ground, in 
 rotten logs and stumps, and under the roots of trees. 
 About 8.50 in length, 18.50 in extent, with wing 6.25, tail 
 3.25, bill .72, and tarsus 1.02, the color is sooty-brown, 
 darkest on the wings and tail, the wing-coverts ashy, and the 
 tail-coverts white. About 1.30X-95, oval, both ends alike, 
 the egg is white, with a wreath of delicate light-red spots 
 around one end, the spots sometimes clustering about the 
 point, or the egg may be pure white. As it is laid on the 
 damp earth, or at most on a few rootlets still retaining the 
 
540 LEACH'S PETREL. 
 
 red mould seldom on a few dried grasses it is generally 
 quite soiled. 
 
 On approaching the breeding grounds in day-time, not a 
 Petrel is to be seen. Those which are not in their burrows 
 are far out at sea. As night comes on those in their bur- 
 rows sally forth, and those out at sea come in; and where 
 they breed in large numbers, the whole night long till the 
 dawn of day, the air seems alive with them. They hurry- 
 skurry near the ground, and cut through the air higher up, 
 passing and repassing each other, and uttering their pecul- 
 iar twitter, until their clatter and noise become a positive 
 nuisance. The night is, indeed, their time of rendezvous. 
 
 Out at sea their flight is truly beautiful, very much re- 
 sembling that of the Swallow. But for its conspicuous white 
 spot on the rump, the unpracticed eye might easily mistake 
 the species fora Black Martin. Tossing and dashing hither 
 and thither, it seems to toy and sport with every breeze. No 
 gale can overpower its vigorous flight. Playing on the 
 very crest of the wave, ever and anon it will drop into the 
 leeward of the heavy billows, to enjoy the temporary calm 
 of those gorges and ravines of the sea. Noticeable to every 
 eye is its patting the surface of the most troubled waters 
 with its tiny webbed feet, thus, Peter-like, walking on the 
 waves, and so acquiring its common name Petrel. 
 
 In day-time it is nowhere to be found along the shore, 
 but miles out at sea it is the constant companion of the 
 fisherman; sporting under the bow or the stern of his boat, 
 gorging itself with bits of liver thrown overboard, or tak- 
 ing, perchance, the coveted morsel even from his hands. 
 Great numbers accompany the fleets of fishing vessels on 
 the banks. Ships at sea are followed for great distances 
 by these little creatures in search of the bits thrown over- 
 board by the cook . 
 
THE SHEARWATER. 541 
 
 Wilson's Petrel (Oceanites oceanus] has very much the 
 same range and about the same habits as the above, but is 
 not known to breed so far south. Mr. Maynard had pretty 
 good evidence of its breeding in the Magdalen Islands, 
 though he did not find its nest. Some 7.25 long, and 13.30 
 in extent, it is about 1.20 inch shorter than Leach's Petrel, 
 though its tail is fully 1.75 longer. Except the white base 
 of the tail feathers, and the yellow centers of the webs of 
 the feet of Wilson's Petrel, the color of the two species is 
 about the same. Its legs, however, nearly one-half longer, 
 and the long tail scarcely forked, as well as the slender ap- 
 pearance of the bird generally, sufficiently differentiate the 
 Wilson to a discriminating eye. The egg is said to be 
 some .82x1.12, chalky white, and occasionally spotted or 
 wreathed with purplish. 
 
 The Stormy Petrel (Procellaria pelagicd), so well known 
 in the north of Europe, to say the least, is very rare on our 
 coast. Messrs. Verrill and Boardman accredit it to Maine, 
 and Audubon affirmed it to occur on the banks of New- 
 foundland and off the coast. Mr. Maynard, however, has 
 never seen it, and the late work on " New England Bird 
 Life," by W. A. Stearns, edited by Dr. Coues, affords no 
 personal attestation. The color of this species is very simi- 
 lar to that of the two former, except the white axillaries or 
 wing-linings, by which it may always be distinguished. It 
 is also noticeably smaller, being only 5.75 in length, and 
 13.50 in extent; and the tail is rounded. 
 
 THE SHEARWATER. 
 
 On reaching the coasts of Nova Scotia, many inquiries 
 were made of me by the seamen concerning a bird they 
 called the Hagdon or Haglet. After keeping watch for it 
 several weeks, I finally met it some miles out, in a thick fog 
 
542 THE SHEARWATER. 
 
 and on a rough sea. A large and odd looking bird, it 
 was some 20.00 long and 45.00 in extent; the wings being 
 very long, narrow and pointed, the tail very short, and the 
 general color a brownish-gray, like that of an immature 
 Gull. It was no doubt the Great or Wandering Shear- 
 water (Puffinus major) , in form and habits strictly like the 
 Petrels, a sort of giant among his diminutive brethren. 
 This was no doubt an immature specimen, as the mature 
 bird is white underneath, and, breeding far north, would 
 not be likely to be found in this latitude in early summer. 
 It is common, however, on the banks of Newfoundland and 
 on the fishing grounds near Sable Island, accompanying 
 the fishing vessels in search of the offal. In winter it is 
 more or less common off the New England coast. Its 
 breeding habits are said to be similar to those of the 
 Petrels, depositing a single white egg in a burrow in the 
 ground, or in some recess among the rocks. 
 
 The Fulmar Petrel (Fulmar us glacialis], is occasionally 
 found off the coast of New England, and as it breeds very 
 far to the north, it must also be an occasional visitor at least 
 off the coast of Nova Scotia. Nearly 20.00 in length, and 
 32.00 in extent, it is a large species of its kind. Robust, 
 back and wings bluish-ash, primaries brownish, head and 
 under parts white, it bears a strong resemblance in color to 
 the Common Gull. The young have also a gray plumage, 
 similar to that of young Gulls. The Fulmar Petrels breed 
 in holes of rocky cliffs, and feed their young, at first, with 
 an oil which they vomit on the slightest provocation. The 
 one elliptical, white egg is some 2.78X2.02. 
 
 Mr. Stearns describes the Sooty Shearwater (Puffinus 
 fuliginosus] as " dark sooty-brown, blackening on the quills 
 and tail; paler and grayish below, usually with some whitish 
 on the lining of the wings. * * * Length, 18.00; 
 
THE BLACK-BACKED GULL. 543 
 
 extent, 40.00." He reports it as common off the coast of 
 New England, where it is known as the " Black Hagdon." 
 As its breeding place is far to the north, it must be at least 
 a winter visitor off Nova Scotia. 
 
 THE BLACK-BACKED GULL. 
 
 Among the outer islands off Mahone Bay, I occasionally 
 saw the Great Black-backed Gull, or Saddle-back (Larus 
 marinus), flapping its immense wings most majestically just 
 above the water. I am credibly informed by old settlers 
 that this species used to breed quite commonly on the 
 islands off the coast of Nova Scotia years ago, and I pre- 
 sume a few breed still on the outer and less frequented 
 ones, as it does on one island, at least, in the Bay of Fundy. 
 Over 30.00 long, and some 65.00 in extent, the black- 
 ish slate-colored curtain contrasting strongly with the pure 
 white of the other parts of the body, this is a most strongly 
 characterized and magnificent bird, and is so wary that 
 it is difficult to come even within rifle-range of it. As is 
 the case with the Gulls generally, the head and neck are 
 streaked with dusky in winter. The ashy-gray young are 
 lighter than the young of the Herring Gull. The nest is 
 on the ground or on ledges of rock, pretty well piled up, 
 after the manner of Gulls. The bluish or brownish-drab 
 eggs, spotted and blotched with brown and neutral, are 
 some 2.97X2.25. 
 
 The large and elegant Glaucous Gull (Larus glaucus) , 
 about the same size as the former, and occasionally found 
 in New England in winter, is no doubt on the coast of the 
 province at that time. Its chaste figure of pure white, even 
 including the primaries, barely relieved by the light pearly- 
 blue mantle, is readily distinguished. The young are 
 streaked and spotted with ashy-brown. 
 
544 THE BLACK-BACKED GULL. 
 
 Of similar habitat with this last is the White-winged 
 Gull (Larus leucopterus}. Some 24.00 long and 52.00 in ex- 
 tent, and precisely like the former in color, it would seem 
 to be simply a noticeably smaller pattern of the same; and 
 bears even a closer relation to it than does the Ring-bill to 
 the Herring Gull. The White-wing is so nearly the size 
 and color of the last as to be distinguishable from it in 
 flight only by the white primaries. The young are said to 
 be " pale yellowish-brown throughout, faintly mottled with 
 darker, and with primaries dusky at the tips." 
 
 Of course the noisy little Kittiwake (Larus tridactylus) 
 must be here, for it breeds as far south as Bird Rock, in the 
 Gulf of St. Lawrence, and frequents the harbors along the 
 coast of New England in winter. Some 16.50 long and 
 36.50 in extent, with tail slightly forked, and hind toe very 
 short, it has the back and entire wing dark ashy-blue, becom- 
 ing lighter toward the black tips of the primaries. Remainder 
 white; bill yellow, and feet black. Head and neck tinged 
 with ashy-blue in winter. The young are marked with 
 black on the back of the neck, with a line through the 
 wing, outer two-thirds of some four or five primaries, and 
 tip of the tail. The nest is on the rocks. Eggs, 2.22X1.65, 
 yellowish-buff, with round marks of brown or lilac. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 NEW JERSEY COAST AND THE OSPREY. 
 
 QEVERAL summer vacations spent around Sandy Hook 
 O and Barnegat Bay, on the New Jersey coast, left a vivid 
 impression on my mind of that grand bird, the Osprey, or 
 Fish Hawk (Pandion haliaetus). About 24.00 long and 
 68.00 in extent, in structure and bearing this species is 
 much more an Eagle than a Hawk. Rich dark-brown above 
 and white beneath, the tail is barred with dusky, the sides 
 of the head are white, with a dark band through the eye, 
 thus marking the bird quite noticeably even in the distance. 
 There is a band of light brown spots across the breast. 
 The most differentiating feature, however, of the Osprey is 
 the short, close feathers of the legs, thus leaving these 
 large, blue, round-scaled members entirely without the long 
 flowing tufts so characteristic of the legs of Hawks and 
 Eagles generally. The long, acuminate, erectile feathers of 
 the crown and the back of the neck are especially graceful. 
 The younger specimens have the dark feathers above tipped 
 or edged with whitish. Of world-wide distribution in its 
 several varieties, our American representative may be found 
 more or less throughout the continent, but especially coast- 
 wise. Wintering in the south, its vernal and autumnal mi- 
 grations along the middle districts of the Atlantic seem 
 singularly coincident with the equinoxes. About the 21st 
 of March, when some of the largest and most important 
 35 
 
546 THE OSPREY. 
 
 shoals of fish arrive on these coasts, this well known Hawk 
 appears as a welcome herald to the fisherman; and about 
 the 23d of September it departs for the south. 
 
 Along the New Jersey coast the bird is very abundant, its 
 flight over land and sea, but especially over the. latter, being 
 a marked and beautiful feature of the landscape. From 
 the waters alone it derives its sustenance. Though its early 
 northward migration, while ice and snow may still abound, 
 render its fishing precarious, it is never known to seek 
 any prey on land. Sailing with almost motionless wings in 
 grand easy circles, the great length and peculiar curvature 
 of the wings readily designating the bird to the eye, its 
 constant search for food would seem the mere play and 
 poetry of motion. Occasionally its circles in flight are so 
 small that it almost seems, indeed, to be turning "in the 
 air as on a pivot." Frequently the flight is low over the 
 water, but it may range to a very considerable height, the 
 eye being keen enough to descry its prey at the bird's great- 
 est elevation. In the act of capture it may drop lightly 
 on the water, and almost pick up its struggling object in a 
 gull-like manner; or it may shoot down from a consider- 
 able height, and fairly plunging in swift pursuit, lift out 
 a fish of six pounds or upwards. 
 
 When several feet above the water, it seems to hesitate 
 with a quivering motion, as if shaking off the water, 
 spaniel-like, or perhaps to grapple its prey more firmly; then, 
 moving off with a vigorous stroke and bearing its prey length- 
 wise and head foremost, it seeks the land, more commonly 
 some tree, on which to devour it. Not infrequently it may 
 hover with a firm flapping of the wings in quest of its object, 
 sailing on if disappointed; and again almost plunging -in 
 eager pursuit, it may still fail of capture, but is never over- 
 excited or disconcerted, seeming to know that there are 
 
THE OSPREY. 547 
 
 plenty of fish in the water, and those as good as ever were 
 caught. Is not the wide waste of waters at its command ? 
 Is it not the most skillful of fishermen ? Why worry then 
 over a mishap or failure ! Even if the Eagle, on the alert, 
 swoop down upon it, and compel it to drop its well-earned 
 prey, it will submit with comparative coolness. This rob- 
 bery by the Eagle, however, probably does not occur nearly 
 so often as one might infer from the books. 
 
 There is no doubt that the Osprey sometimes miscalculates 
 the size and strength of the fish he would seize, and strik- 
 ing into it his sharp and much curved claws, is neither able 
 to raise the fish nor yet to extricate himself, and so is 
 drawn under to perish with his prey in his grasp, the rem- 
 nants of both being thrown up on the shore together; or 
 the surviving fish may be afterwards caught bearing the 
 skeleton or remains of the Hawk on its back. 
 
 The nest of the Fish Hawk is a common appurtenance of 
 the landscape, along the coast under consideration. No eye 
 can miss it, for it is an immense affair, built of sticks, 
 coarse weeds and rubbish in general, lined with sea-grass, 
 the whole being sufficient in quantity to fill a good-sized 
 dump-cart. It is placed in a tree anywhere from 10-50 feet 
 from the ground. If the tree be not dead when chosen, it 
 does not long survive the huge wet pile, generally containing 
 no small quantity of material from the salt water; and as 
 the bulk is increased by repairs, not only in spring before 
 incubation, but also in the fall before the birds depart, the 
 foundations give way in time, and the unsightly mass is 
 precipitated to the ground. I was informed of one of these 
 nests being built on the top of an old chimney, after the 
 manner of the European Stork. The eggs, generally 3, 
 sometimes 2 or 4, are about 2.39X1.76, creamy white, 
 sharply spotted and blotched with light-brown and umber, 
 
548 THE FISH CROW. 
 
 the large end being often covered, or occasionally the 
 ground-color of the whole egg obscured, by the markings. 
 They are laid, in the Middle States, about the first of May, 
 and the young, covered at first with a white down, are 
 hatched early in June. They keep to the nest till full- 
 grown, and are even fed by the parents in the air after 
 flight would seem complete. 
 
 THE FISH CROW. 
 
 The nest being a common resort of the Fish Hawk 
 throughout the season, my attention was one day especially 
 called to an empty one on which a Hawk was unusually 
 boisterous over a large fish. These birds are generally 
 noisy when on land, but this time there was a particular 
 significance to the loud squealing racket. A Fish Crow 
 (Corvus ossifragus), readily known by his hoarse, guttural 
 cawing, was perched near by in the tree. Being also, 
 as his common name implies, of piscatorial appetite, he had 
 come to dispute the right of the Hawk to the fish. How 
 saucy on the part of this little specimen in glossy-black to 
 put in a claim to the bill of fare so well earned by his stately 
 neighbor ! How undignified in the Osprey to utter one 
 querulous syllable in recognition of the sauce-box ! 
 
 Some 16.00 long and 24.00 in extent, the Fish Crow is 
 noticeably smaller than his larger brother, so well known 
 here in the north. Also his coat has a brighter gloss, and 
 his feet are proportionally smaller. A bird of our more 
 southern sea-board, and found there in great abundance, it 
 is more or less common about " the upper New Jersey 
 coast, Long Island, lower Hudson Valley, and the coast 
 line of Connecticut, and an occasional visitor to Massa- 
 chusetts." Reported on good authority as migratory, 
 pressing into our southern coasts in great numbers on the 
 
THE SEA SIDE SPARROW. 549 
 
 approach of winter, it is now well made out by Mr. Wm. 
 Dutcher and others to be a winter resident, even in its 
 most northern habitat. Probably while the greater number 
 migrate, some remain. This species may be found on rivers 
 and other bodies of water more or less in the vicinity of 
 the sea. It feeds quite commonly on dead fish, but also 
 on any garbage found about the water, and is specially 
 fond of certain lizards, which swim with their heads above 
 the water, and which it captures alive, and it is also a vora- 
 cious devourer of the eggs of other birds, especially those of 
 the water-fowl breeding along or near the sea-coast. 
 
 Its nidification is very similar to that of the Common 
 Crow. Size of eggs some 1.45X1.10. 
 
 THE SEA-SIDE SPARROW. 
 
 From the sedges and the tall marsh-grass near the sea, I 
 frequently heard the peculiar song of the Sea-side Sparrow 
 (Ammodromus maritimus). The melody has but few notes, 
 the first several being liquid but abrupt, and the last two 
 or three somewhat prolonged. Generally the singer is 
 hidden from sight, or can barely be seen as he swings in 
 the moving tops of grasses and sedges; but occasionally he 
 will toss himself up into the air, after the manner of the 
 Long-billed Marsh Wren, his song then becoming a 
 resonant twitter. The singer is always much excited, 
 ruffling his feathers, spreading his tail, and shaking 
 himself enthusiastically. About 5.50 long, the bill is some- 
 what lengthened and slender, the tail feathers short, narrow 
 and pointed, the wings short and rounded, and the feet 
 very large. The color is olive-gray above, streaked with 
 dusky; beneath, ashy-white, clearer on the throat and 
 darker on the sides and flanks; sides of the head and rather 
 obscure streaks below, dusky; line from the bill over the 
 
550 THE SHARP-TAILED SPARROW. 
 
 crown, ashy; spot over the eye and shoulder of the wing, 
 yellow. On the mud, among the tall growths of the salt and 
 brackish marshes, they seek their food of tiny mollusks and 
 aquatic insects; and the somewhat " gourd-shaped " nest, 
 with a small opening on the top or side, is either on the 
 ground or fastened to the coarse grasses near the ground. 
 It is composed of coarse grass and lined with finer, some- 
 times with fine rootlets, and contains 4-6 dull white eggs, 
 finely spotted and specked with several shades of brown. 
 Wintering in great numbers in the salt marshes of the 
 Southern States, it breeds from the Gulf to Connecticut, 
 coming north in April and going south before the ground 
 freezes. 
 
 THE SHARP-TAILED SPARROW. 
 
 In similar situations and with similar habits to those 
 given above, we find another species of this same genus, 
 the Sharp- tailed Sparrow (Ammodromus caudacutus). " Rather 
 smaller than the last, bill still slenderer, and tail feathers 
 still narrower and more acute," the olive-gray upper parts 
 are more sharply streaked with blackish and whitish; instead 
 of the yellow spot above the eye, the eye-brows and cheeks 
 are buffy or orange, and the lower parts are white, with 
 breast and sides more sharply streaked with dusky. The 
 nest is on the ground, pretty much concealed with dry 
 grasses, of which it is also composed, and they breed some- 
 what in community. The four or five pale-blue eggs .77 X 
 .58, finely specked with reddish, are laid rather late in the 
 season. This little Sparrow is exceedingly active, inhabits 
 marshes farther from the shore than does the former, and 
 extends its summer residence farther north, being common 
 about the coasts of Massachusetts and even to New Hamp- 
 shire. It has a very poor voice, its song being regarded as 
 the weakest of all the Sparrows. 
 
THE PRAIRIE WARBLER. 551 
 
 THE CAROLINA WREN. 
 
 In tangled thickets, made almost impenetrable by the 
 rank festoons of the common srnilax, I occasionally found 
 the Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus) . This rather 
 southern species, though wintering commonly in Virginia, 
 scarcely reaches, regularly, a higher latitude than 42. Some 
 5.75 long, it is noticeably larger than the rest of our Wrens, 
 which it resembles strongly in color, however, the most 
 differentiating mark, in this respect, being the yellowish- 
 white eye-brow extending down the sides of the neck.* 
 The bill is considerably curved. In the extent and manner 
 of its activity this species is every whit a Wren. All ob- 
 servers have been impressed with its song, which is loud, 
 voluble, melodious, and delivered at about all times of the 
 year. The nest, generally in some cavity, often in build- 
 ings, is a hollow ball, with an entrance in the side, composed 
 outwardly of sticks, leaves, and coarse fibers generally, and 
 lined with fine fibrous or grassy materials. The 6 eggs, .77 
 X .58, are creamy-white, variously marked with reddish- 
 brown and lilac, in a wreath or cluster at the large end. 
 
 THE PRAIRIE WARBLER. 
 
 In the pine groves of second growth I occasionally found 
 the Prairie Wabler (Dendrceca discolor]. This pretty little 
 species, only 4.50 long, is olive above, the back being marked 
 with reddish-chestnut spots; sides of the head, yellow, with 
 lores and a streak beneath the eye, black; throat and under 
 parts rich yellow, with small pointed spots of black down 
 the sides of the neck and under the wings. The female 
 lacks the black line under the eye, and has the chestnut 
 spots on the back, and the black spots on the sides, less dis- 
 tinct. Breeding anywhere from New England to Key West, 
 it occupies the bushy pastures in the former limit of its 
 
 * Florida affords a larger and darker form of this species, var. miamensis. 
 
552 THE BLACK TERN. 
 
 habitat, but the "hummocks," and even the submerged 
 tracts of mangroves in Florida. The song is a unique trill 
 on an ascending scale. The nest, set in an upright fork of 
 a bush, or tied to several disconnected shoots, is compactly 
 formed of coarse bark-shreds and weeds externally, bedded 
 and lined with vegetable down and fine grasses. The 3-5 
 eggs, .62 X 52, ratker large for the bird, are white, pretty 
 heavily marked with light brown and lilac. 
 
 THE BLACK TERN. 
 
 Sitting under a screen, late in August, in some secluded 
 nook in Barnegat Bay, every now and then one may be sur- 
 prised by the dashing flight of a flock of Black Terns 
 (Hydrochelidon nigra). In spring, notwithstanding the gray 
 back, wings and tail, and white crissum, the more conspicu- 
 ous sooty black of the head, neck and under parts, fully 
 justify the common name; but during the late summer and 
 autumn plumage, that name seems quite inappropriate, for 
 then, except the dusky back of the head, and the ring around 
 the eye, the black parts of the spring dress are white. 
 Though reaching the sea-coast in the migration of late 
 summer, this Tern, unlike the rest of its family, is not a 
 bird of the sea-side, but of the flooded marshes about our 
 lakes of the interior. I found it breeding in great numbers 
 in June on St. Clair Flats. Its sooty form, finely set off by 
 its silvery wings and tail the wings rather broad and the 
 tail but slightly forked for a Tern was constantly in sight, 
 as it fished along the channels; and its rather musical piping 
 note was in hearing almost night and day. Here and there, 
 among the vegetable growths in the flooded marshes, they 
 nested more or less in community, where, if an intruder 
 approached, their little breasts would be filled with rage, 
 their loud notes then remindingoneof the screaming of the 
 Robins under like circumstances of excitement. The nest 
 
THE BLACK SKIMMER. 553 
 
 is a rude and slight arrangement of weather-beaten and 
 partly decayed rushes, placed on a bit of floating slab, or 
 on one of those compact, floating beds of debris, which be- 
 come anchored in large quantity in the bends of the chan- 
 nels, or among the sedges. On this water-soaked affair, the 
 eggs, 1-3, are placed, some 1.32X.95, varying from brown 
 to dark-green in color, spotted and blotched with several 
 shades of dark-brown and neutral. Always dark, they 
 vary greatly in form, ground-color and marking. This 
 Tern, some 9.50 long, winters south of the United States. 
 
 THE BLACK SKIMMER. 
 
 On Barnegat Bay, especially about the inlet, I used to see 
 occasionally some half-dozen Black Skimmers (Rhynchops 
 nigra), flying closely as they skimmed the surface in search 
 of their food of small fry. Length, 17.50; stretch, 42.00; 
 upper parts black; forehead, tips of secondaries, outer webs 
 of tail feathers, white, this species might pass for a large 
 black Tern, were it not for its peculiar bill. The lower man- 
 dible, some 4.50 long, is as. flat as a knife blade, the upper 
 edge fitting into a groove in the upper mandible, which is 
 about an inch shorter. With this strongly specialized mem- 
 ber, it plows the surface of tfye water at flood-tides, when 
 its food is most abundant near the surface. Few instances, 
 even in bird-life, can furnish a more obvious evidence of 
 design. Here is a species which, from the length of its 
 wings and neck, the shape of its bill and its mode of flight, 
 is evidently designed to take its food in a peculiar manner 
 by skimming or plowing the surface for the small fry 
 which approach it in flood-tides. In Florida, where it is 
 found throughout the year, Mr. Maynard reports it as 
 feeding mostly at night or in cloudy weather. Breeding in 
 communities on the sandy beaches, as far north as New 
 Jersey, the eggs, 2 or 3, are placed in a hollow in the sand. 
 
554 THE MARBLED GOD WIT. 
 
 About 1.75X1.37, they are white, marked with dark brown 
 and lilac, the blotches being clear-edged and strong, thus 
 readily differentiating the eggs. 
 
 THE MARBLED GODWIT. 
 
 Occasionally during August, the gunners about the bay 
 would take the Marbled God wit (Limosa fcedd). Length 
 18.50, stretch 31.00, bill 4.05, it is dark brown, variously 
 marked with reddish-yellow; the wings and tail reddish- 
 yellow marked with brown; beneath, a fine light-red, light- 
 est on the throat, and streaked and banded generally, ex- 
 cept on the abdomen, with brown. This fine species is 
 readily recognized by its color, its large size and slightly 
 upturned bill. Though common in winter from the Caro- 
 linas southward, especially in Florida, it is rare on the 
 Atlantic Coast to the north in summer. It is abundant, 
 however, west of the Mississippi, breeding in great num- 
 bers about the ponds and shallow pools of Minnesota, 
 Dakota and the Northwest Territory. The nest is a 
 slight arrangement of dried grass, in a depression in the 
 ground. The eggs, 2-4, 2.22X1.47, long-oval, are creamy 
 or buff, rather sparsely marked and blotched with light- 
 brown and neutral. This species is occasionally found on 
 the Niagara in the migrations. 
 
 The Hudsonian Godwit (Limosa hudsonicd), breeding in 
 the arctics and wintering beyond our limits, is not uncom- 
 mon on the Atlantic Coast in the migrations. Nearly 15.00 
 long, and 26.50 in extent, the bill is but 2.25. Of a general 
 resemblance to the former in color, the white in the wings, 
 seen in flight, and that of the rump and in the base of the 
 tail, strongly characterize it, giving it the name of " Spot- 
 rump " or " Ring-tail," among sportsmen. The nest is sim- 
 ilar to that of the former, but the eggs, 2.18 X 1.38, are dark 
 greenish-brown, lightly marked with dark brown. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 AUTUMNAL DAYS. 
 
 THIS twenty-first day of September (1881) is an ideal 
 day of that delightful month of our clime. Cloudless 
 and clear, warm but not hot, the air purified by recent 
 showers, every breath is an aesthetic inspiration. Ensconced 
 away among the bushes on the south shore of Johnson's 
 Creek, just opposite the point formed by its oblique en- 
 trance into Lake Ontario, I am watching the various 
 water-birds as they alight, all unsuspectingly, on that point. 
 The near sites are within gun-shot, and the furthest ones are 
 easily reconnoitered with a glass. Supposing that you are, 
 my reader, in spirit, at my side, I will try to interpret to 
 you what we see. That little Semipalmated Sandpiper 
 (Ereunetes pusillus) , moving hurriedly like a gray speck about 
 the shore, is rather late in the season for him. He may re- 
 turn to us from his breeding grounds, in the high latitudes 
 of the north, as early as the latter part of July, and gener- 
 ally is quite common on all our shores and water-courses in 
 August. It is quite out of order, too, for this bird to be thus 
 alone, as it is almost always in flocks, and not infrequently 
 in company with its near relative, the Least Sandpiper 
 (THnga minutilla). I have seen it in large flocks in the 
 month of August, on Niagara River, alighting on the large 
 rafts of logs on their way to the mills of Tonawanda. It 
 is a graceful, active little Wader, reminding one somewhat 
 
556 SEMIPALMATED SANDPIPER. 
 
 of the Spotted Sandpiper, only it h'as nothing of the teeter- 
 ing motion of that species; and its notes, tweet-eet, tweet-eet, 
 are more of a soft, subdued whistle, giving the bird a much 
 quieter and less demonstrative appearance. 
 
 Some 6.00 long and 12.00 in extent, this species may vary 
 much in size; the black bill is an inch or more in length 
 and slightly bent; the crown and upper parts are dusky, 
 the feathers being edged with reddish and tipped with 
 white, or simply edged with grayish; rump and tail-coverts, 
 black; wings dusky, marked with white ; line over the eye, 
 tips of the lesser wing-coverts, throat and under parts, white; 
 legs and feet, dusky. Its diminutive size distinguishes it 
 readily from all our birds of its kind, except the Least 
 Sandpiper, which it greatly resembles, but from which it is 
 strongly differentiated by its half-webbed toes. This species 
 breeds from Labrador to the far north, having a slight 
 nest on the ground, after the manner of other Waders; 
 the 4 eggs, about 1.22X.84, being pale grayish or 
 greenish-drab, or olivaceous, boldly blotched or marked 
 with several shades of brown, mostly about the large end. 
 Passing through the Middle States late in April or early 
 in May, it returns from late July even till early October, 
 feeding leisurely on insects, worms and diminutive mollusks. 
 It is common to North, Central and most of South America. 
 It would seem that it winters for the most part beyond 
 our boundaries. 
 
 As I view this little bird on the point, I naturally associ- 
 ate it with its quaint little relative, the Least Sandpiper. The 
 flight of this species, as of that of the above, is straight- 
 forward and rapid; and it also passes these middle districts 
 late in April or early in May, raising its young from the 
 rocky coasts of Labrador northward. Here, its nest is 
 found on " the moss-clad crests of the highest rocks, 
 
THE TURNSTONE. 557 
 
 within short distances of the sea." This nest is a mere de- 
 pression in the moss, slightly lined with dried grasses. The 
 4 eggs, resembling those of the Spotted Sandpiper, are 
 about .92 X. 75, light yellowish-drab, blotched and spotted 
 with dark-umber. Like the rest of the Waders, these birds 
 are greatly excited when disturbed in nidification, flying 
 with a whirring noise, which resembles the wing-strokes of a 
 startled Grouse. 
 
 As it returns along the Atlantic Coast, any time from 
 the last of July till October, it is sometimes seen in im- 
 mense numbers, gyrating about brackish marshes, and 
 appearing in the distance like swarms of bees in search of 
 a place of settlement. Using their bills after the manner of 
 Snipe, they search the soft mud and the debris for their fare 
 of aquatic insects, worms and tiny mollusks. At such 
 times their conversational peep, peep, pip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip, or ptdee, 
 pidee, dee, dee, is cheerily uttered, and suggests how great 
 is the quiet joy of these little creatures in their natural 
 haunts. 
 
 Considerably less than 6 inches long, the color and gen- 
 eral appearance of this pigmy of its race is very much like 
 that of the Semipalmated Sandpiper, the general effect 
 being darker; and its toes, which are not semipalmated, but 
 divided to the base, are slender and wiry, and so render it 
 readily distinguishable. Many spend the winter in the 
 extreme Southern States. 
 
 THE TURNSTONE. 
 
 As I continue to gaze across the mouth of the creek I spy 
 a pair of most dainty little walkers, treading their way 
 along the pebbly shore, with an ease and elegance, and a 
 pigeon-like motion of the head, most pleasing through the 
 glass which brings them almost to the end of my nose. The 
 
558 THE TURNSTONE. 
 
 species before me is the Turnstone (Strepsilas interpret), 
 found in every continent of the world, and decidedly the 
 most brightly colored bird of our shores. The gunners on 
 the coast call it the " Calico Plover." About 9.00 long, its 
 shape bears quite a resemblance to that of the Plover, ex- 
 cept that its bill, which is shorter than the head, is stout, its 
 tapering point turning up a little, that its legs are quite 
 short, and that it has a well developed hind toe. The up- 
 per parts are variously marked with black, rich brown, 
 rufous, and a little white; the head and neck are white, 
 thickly and pretty distinctly spotted with black; the fore 
 part of the neck and the sides of the breast are jet-black; 
 the throat, under parts, under sides of the wings, lower 
 back, longer tail-coverts, base of the tail and the quills, 
 clear white; feet and legs, bright orange. This is the mark- 
 ing of the mature bird in summer, but it varies greatly with 
 the seasons and the age of the bird, the colors and markings 
 becoming quite obscure in extreme cases. The species can 
 always be determined, however, by the peculiarities of form 
 above noted. Of the two specimens now before me, one 
 is quite strongly colored, while the other is very indistinct. 
 Still looking through the glass, the birds seem just before 
 me almost near enough to be touched and as they have 
 not the slightest suspicion of my presence, they are acting 
 themselves out fully. Some one has watched this bird be- 
 fore me, as is evident from its name. Turnstone, indeed, 
 it is, turning over, with its bill, pebbles, shells, small sticks, 
 weeds, and bits of rubbish of all kinds, to find its food 
 of insects, worms, small mollusks and crustaceans. Its 
 stout bill makes a good lever, its short legs give it a strong 
 purchase, and its long toes give it a firm and easy step on 
 the most uneven surface. As it takes wing I notice that its 
 flight and general appearance in the air is almost precisely 
 
THE BLACK-BELLIED PLOVER. 559 
 
 like that of the Killdeer. It has also a loud, whistling 
 note. 
 
 This bird is found in small numbers along our inland 
 waters. Its home, however, would seem to be more partic- 
 ularly along the sea-coast. Breeding in high, northern lat- 
 itudes, its nidification is so similar to that of our shore-birds 
 in general as scarcely to need particular description. There 
 are four pointed eggs, 1.50X1.25, "pale yellowish green, 
 with a few black lines and irregular patches of brownish-red. " 
 It is generally seen along the sea in small flocks of some 
 half dozen, but sometimes it joins the Sandpipers. 
 
 THE BLACK-BELLIED PLOVER. 
 
 Flying along the lake shore, a flock of nine Black-bellied 
 Plovers (Squatarola helvetica) alight on the farthest part of 
 the point. They have a gamy, grouse-like look, standing 
 thus at ease on the sand, preening their feathers; and one 
 feels the propriety of their place in classification next to 
 Partridges and Quails. Nearly cosmopolitan in their distri- 
 bution, they strongly resemble the Golden Plover, but are 
 readily distinguished, even in the distance, by their large 
 head giving them the name Bull-head and by their stout 
 bodies; when taken in the hand, they are found also to have 
 a rudimentary hind toe, thus differing from all the rest of 
 the Plovers. 
 
 Nearly a foot long, and more than two feet in extent, 
 this bird presents a rather imposing appearance for one of 
 its kind. When in full summer plumage, the upper parts 
 are variegated with black, yellowish-brown and white; the 
 wings are deep dusky, with white markings; the tail white, 
 crossed with blackish; cheeks, throat, fore-neck, breast and 
 lining of the wings, jet-black; about the head and neck, ele- 
 gantly bordered with chalk-white. They are then a strikingly 
 
560 THE GOLDEN PLOVER. 
 
 beautiful figure. Such an one did I meet in June (1881), 
 among the Herring Gulls on the rocky shoals of Georgian Bay. 
 This species varies greatly with age and with the seasons. 
 Its winter habit, of mottled brown and gray above, and 
 white or whitish beneath, is greatly inferior to that of the 
 summer. In all stages of growth it may be distinguished 
 from the young of the Golden Plover by its much larger 
 bill, and by the more extended webbing between the outer 
 and middle toes, as also by its hind toe. A conspicuous 
 feature of this bird is its large, bright black eye, with a 
 white ring around it in summer, giving it the name Ox- 
 eye among gunners. It has a loud, shrill, whistling note. 
 Its food is insects, worms and berries. Audubon and Wil- 
 son both give accounts, as from their own observations, of 
 this Plover's breeding in the high inland regions of the 
 Middle States, but at present its .nidification seems to be 
 known only in very high northern latitudes. The 4 eggs, 
 2.00X1.40, are brownish or yellowish-drab, rather heavily 
 marked with brownish-black about the larger half, the rest 
 of the surface specked with the same. 
 
 THE GOLDEN PLOVER. 
 
 Occasionally during the day I see moderate flocks of the 
 Golden Plover (Charadrius fulvus var. virginicus) coming 
 from their gleanings in the lately reaped grain-fields, or 
 flying along the shore of the lake. Just as a most magnifi- 
 cent autumn sunset is tinging the whole atmosphere with 
 its varied hues, a flock of fifty or more coming off the land 
 meet as many more coming in from the lake, and the con- 
 joined flocks, blending completely, perform a great variety 
 of most graceful evolutions. They cut circles above the 
 point, make broad sweeps about the edge of the lake, now 
 flying high, now low, now tipping their backs toward me, 
 
THE GOLDEN PLOVER. 561 
 
 and now throwing up their under parts, the cloud-like figure 
 of the mass changing form every few moments. With what 
 a dashing swiftness they perform their flight, and how per- 
 fectly each one keeps his place throughout all the changes, 
 all performing precisely the same movement at the same 
 instant, as if one spirit animated and guided them all! 
 Which one is the leader of these swift forces ? How do 
 they all manage to keep so on the alert for every signal ? 
 Ah ! we only see the birds at a distance, after all, and know 
 but little of what makes up their inner life ! As they near 
 me in one of their gyrations, I give them the contents of 
 both barrels of my shot-gun, bringing down enough for 
 my purposes. The flock disappears, but for a long time 
 their peculiar whistling notes linger in my ears. 
 
 Nearly 11 inches long, and nearly 22 in extent, the present 
 color of this bird is a sort of compromise between its beau- 
 tiful summer habit and its plainer winter dress. The color 
 of spring is brownish-black on the upper parts generally, 
 each feather being elegantly spotted about the edge with 
 bright yellow " old gold," if you please, and hence its 
 common name ; the wing-coverts are marked with white, 
 and the dusky tail is barred with the same; primaries of a 
 fine brown; upper part of the forehead, space in front of 
 and line over the eye, dull white; sides of the neck and of 
 the body the same, spotted with brown and yellowish- white; 
 breast and line in front of the neck, brownish-black, the 
 latter margined on both sides with clear white. In the 
 winter habit, the upper parts are similar, but less bright and 
 distinct, while the under parts become light-gray, streaked 
 with darker. 
 
 A noted bird throughout the northern hemisphere is the 
 Golden Plover, the species or varieties of the Old World 
 being very closely allied to our own. Spending the winter, 
 36 
 
562 THE KILLDEER. 
 
 for the most part, beyond our limits, these birds pass the 
 middle districts on their way northward during the latter 
 half of April or early in May, at which time they have not 
 yet reached the perfect beauty of their summer attire. 
 They breed on the barren grounds of the far north and on 
 the islands of the Arctic Seas. Dr. Dall found them com- 
 mon along the Yukon. The 4 eggs, about 1.90 xl-37, are 
 pale brownish-clay color, sometimes approximating to drab, 
 or even approaching white. They are boldly marked and 
 blotched with dark brown, especially around the large end. 
 The nest is a mere depression in the ground, slightly lined 
 with dried grasses or leaves feathers being sometimes added. 
 
 These Plovers are among our most characteristic birds of 
 passage, in the month of September, being as common in 
 the west as in the more easterly regions. When passing 
 from one point to another they fly high, with rapid and 
 steady beat of their long pointed wings. Entering the 
 fields, they fly very low, scouring the region thoroughly, it 
 may be, before they alight. Whether flying high or low, 
 unless the flock be very large, they generally move in lines 
 of many abreast, forming as many curves and angles as so 
 many Wild Geese. 
 
 They may eat caterpillars or berries, but their chief relish 
 is for grasshoppers, which they capture most adroitly. 
 When in flight they may be easily " whistled down," and are 
 frequently shot in great numbers. They are often very fat, 
 and their flesh is delicious. 
 
 THE KILLDEER. 
 
 Our Plover the most familiar to every one, is the Killdeer 
 (sEgialitis ew//mz), which I see almost constantly on the point 
 of land under observation. In the sunny days of March, al- 
 ready he greets us with his half-cheerful, half-plaintive note, 
 
THE KILLDEER. 563 
 
 so well expressed by his common name, as scarcely to need 
 further description. Then, even at midnight, while the 
 snow is yet on the ground, you may hear his stirring call 
 as he passes by for regions still farther north. And did 
 you ever hear him without recalling the blooming meadow 
 and the brook ? I admire his taste in locating his summer 
 home, in the clover, by some rippling streamlet. Altogether 
 unique, too, is the style of the nest. That circular arrange- 
 ment of smooth pebbles, peculiar bits of wood, or fragments 
 of shells, is wholly primitive, reminding one of cromlechs and 
 cairns. Inside this little circle, at once so simple and so 
 artistic, the four eggs are placed, the small points of the 
 conical forms touching each other at the center. About 
 1.45 X 1.05, they are of a dark, rich cream-color, well spot- 
 ted and blotched with blackish-brown beautifully in har- 
 mony with the ground on which they lie. Nest and eggs 
 seem like a natural appurtenance of the field. Occasionally, 
 however, the Killdeer seeks to be in fashion, and builds a 
 nest of dried grasses, or, becoming careless, simply adopts 
 a depression in the ground. Of all the maternal demon- 
 strations so peculiar to Plovers and Sandpipers, none are 
 more emphatic than those of the Killdeer. Fairly rolling 
 and tumbling on the ground, the mother-bird will spread 
 her tail and beat the ground with her expanded wings, cry- 
 ing oh, dear, dear, dear, dear, till the hardest heart must 
 relent under her beseeching tones. In this attitude she 
 gives one the full impression of her beautiful colors. Fore- 
 head, below the black band between the eyes, eye-brows, 
 and entire under parts, white; upper parts yellowish or red- 
 dish-brown; ring round the breast, and a broader one 
 round the neck, jet-black; wings dusky, marked with white; 
 the dusky tail, shading into black toward the reddish and 
 white tips, and flanked with light red, white and dusky, is 
 
564 BARTRAM'S SANDPIPER., 
 
 especially illuminated by the bright yellowish-red rump 
 and tail-coverts; and not least, as a mark of beauty, are the 
 bright red eye-lids. The young in the down are a faithful 
 pattern of the colors of the mature bird. 
 
 While your sympathies are being won by the sorrowful 
 demonstrations of the female, the male is equally active, 
 flying in circles about your head, running around you he 
 is a very adept at running and joining most earnestly in 
 the cries of the family. 
 
 The young are true representatives of the precoces, run- 
 ning well as soon as free from the shell. A nest containing 
 eggs in the forenoon, in the afternoon may have nothing 
 but shells. The young are reared in the same kind of low- 
 lands and river-bottoms, as are chosen for nidification. In- 
 deed, such localities are the home of the species. The first 
 eggs are laid in May, and there may be another set in July. 
 
 The Killdeer is well in favor with the farmer, not only 
 because of his familiar notes and spirited antics, but because 
 of his destruction of caterpillars and insects, and par- 
 ticularly of grasshoppers. Wintering abundantly in the 
 Southern and Southwestern States, it may extend even to 
 South America, breeding from Texas far into British North 
 America and to the Pacific. 
 
 Plovers are a well-marked group of birds, differing from 
 the more numerous Snipes, Sandpipers, Tattlers, etc., in 
 the rather large head, the shorter bill and neck, and the 
 marked pigeon-like form of the bill, but more especially, 
 perhaps, in having only three toes, the exceptional hind 
 toe of the Black-billed Plover being only rudimentary. 
 
 BARTRAM'S SANDPIPER. 
 
 By that powerful law of the mind the association of ideas, 
 a bird always connected in my mind with the Killdeer, is 
 
BAR TRAM'S SANDPIPER. 565 
 
 Bartram's Sandpiper (Actiturus bartramius] ; not from close 
 structural affinity, indeed, for the last mentioned is a true 
 Sandpiper, or still more properly a Tattler, but from the 
 fact that I have so often found it breeding in some adjoin- 
 ing locality. On the whole, Bartram's Sandpiper is a much 
 more upland bird than the KilldeerT Its nest may be 
 found even in dry, sandy fields, hence it is often called the 
 Field or Grass Plover. Notwithstanding its grallatorial 
 structure, it seems almost utterly to have forsaken the 
 water, and to have become naturalized to the meadow 
 and the pasture, along with Bobolinks and Sparrows. 
 I generally find it on the rather high level grounds just 
 north of the Ridge, which determines the famous Ridge 
 Road of Western New York, but sometimes even on the 
 Ridge itself. 
 
 About 12-13 inches long and 22 or more inches in extent, 
 with the rather long bill and legs peculiar to the Tattlers 
 (the bill being less sensitive in that group than in the Sand- 
 pipers), Bartram's Sandpiper has the crown dark-brown, 
 with a median line of light reddish-brown; upper parts 
 generally a rich dark-brown, with black markings or bars 
 running obliquely across the vanings, the edges or tips of 
 the feathers being brownish or reddish-white; the lower 
 back clear brown, deep and glossy; neck, breast, and vent, 
 cream-color; under parts, yellowish-white; the neck streaked 
 with brown; pointed cross-markings on the breast, and the 
 straighter cross-bars on the sides and axillaries, deep brown 
 or black; outer primaries with much dull white on the in- 
 ner vanes; wing-coverts quite light, crossed with brown; 
 and the long tertiaries deeply edged with light brown, into 
 which the black markings point conspicuously; legs, yellow- 
 ish. The most elegant part of this bird is the tail, which 
 shades from dark-brown in the center, through various tints 
 
566 BAR TRAM'S SANDPIPER. 
 
 of rufous, to white on the sides, the whole being distinctively 
 marked with black. 
 
 Reaching Western New York late in April, and nest- 
 ing in the latter half of May, its 4 eggs, some 1.82x1.25, are 
 a warm light-brown, or drab, specked all over with brown, 
 some of the marks about the large end being larger, others, 
 all over the surface, being lighter. There is a noticeably 
 warm effect in the entire coloring. The nest is a mere 
 depression in the ground, generally lined slightly with 
 dried grasses, and occurs here about the middle of May 
 or later. Unless seriously disturbed, the birds are not 
 particularly shy. I have known the female to be caught 
 with the hand on the nest, and to continue sitting after 
 some of the eggs had been broken. Indeed, when so 
 alarmed as to refrain from sitting on the nest, she will lin- 
 ger a whole night near the cold, wet eggs. The young in 
 the down are white beneath, "finely mottled with black, 
 white, and with brown above," and leaving the nest at once, 
 grow rapidly, testing their wings already when only a 
 month old. 
 
 Quip-ip-ip-ip, quip-ip-ip-ip, spiritly and rapidly uttered, 
 may represent the ordinary alarm note of this species; but 
 when it alights on the ground, on the fence, or even in a 
 tree, stretching or rather holding its wings straight up for 
 a few moments, it utters a prolonged and peculiar note, 
 sounding like chr-r-r-r-r-ee-e-e-e-e-e-oo-o-o-o-o-oo, the syllable 
 ee being strongly on the upward slide, and the syllable oo 
 in a marked falling inflection. This prolonged, mournful, 
 mellow whistle, " more like the whistling of the wind than 
 a bird's voice," may be heard even in the night, and is one 
 of the most weird and never-to-be-forgotten sounds in na- 
 ture. This bird is a swift and graceful runner, and a very 
 adept at hiding in the grass. Its flight is regular, rapid, 
 
THE CROSSBILLS. 567 
 
 and beautiful. Its diet is insectivorous, grasshoppers and 
 crickets being its principal bill of fare here, while in some 
 localities it regales itself on wild strawberries, and in others 
 on the cantharides, the last making its flesh a violent 
 emetic. 
 
 Breeding in the Middle States generally, and reaching 
 Maine or Nova Scotia in the east, the Saskatchawan, or even 
 Alaska, in the northwest, and the Rocky Mountains west- 
 ward, it gathers in families and flocks late in summer, mov- 
 ing leisurely in its southward migration, which may extend 
 even to Brazil. It has been found as a straggler in Europe 
 and Australia. As it nears the south and the southwest in 
 early autumn, it is often in immense flocks. It is said to be 
 especially abundant in Dakota in the breeding season. Its 
 flesh is generally excellent. 
 
 * 
 
 THE CROSSBILLS. 
 
 Most curious of all the song-birds of the north are the 
 Crossbills. Their most marked peculiarity in structure is 
 indicated by their common name. The bill, which is quite 
 long and deep at the base, is much compressed, especially 
 towards the tips of the mandibles; and these are so abruptly 
 bent the upper one downward and the lower one upward 
 that their sharp points cross each other at an angle of at 
 least forty-five degrees. The head is large, the stout jaws, 
 so apparent through the feathers, giving it quite a chuckle- 
 headed appearance; the wings are tolerably long and 
 pointed; the short tail is deeply emarginate; the feet are 
 rather large, and the legs are short and robust. Thus this 
 little bird, some six and a half to seven inches long the 
 mature male a mottled red and the female a mottled green 
 bears a crude analogy to a Hawk or an Owl, or even to a 
 Parrot. 
 
THE WHITE-WINGED CKOSSBILL. 
 
THE CROSSBILLS. 569 
 
 On this continent we have the Common and the White- 
 winged Crossbills two distinct species the latter of which 
 is a little the smaller, having the red of the male noticeably 
 brighter, with bars of clear white on the wings, some of the 
 secondaries of which are also tipped with white, and the 
 wings and tail blacker. The two species of Crossbills in 
 Europe are quite similar to ours. 
 
 In habit the Crossbills are about as peculiar as they are 
 in structure. Breeding in the extreme north of New 
 England and northward, they range, very irregularly, south- 
 ward as far as Philadelphia. In Western New York, we 
 may meet them, as winter stragglers, perhaps, once in four 
 or five years. Sometimes they occur in considerable flocks 
 in the bright days of autumn. The habits of the European 
 varieties seem to be equally irregular, so that the celebrated 
 naturalist, Dr. Brehm, used to call the Crossbills the gyp- 
 sies among birds, attributing their movements to scarcity or 
 abundance of their peculiar food. 
 
 It is well demonstrated that in this country these birds 
 breed in winter, or early in spring. Concerning the nest of 
 the Common Crossbills, Audubon says : " Many persons 
 in the State of Maine assured me that they had found it on 
 pine trees in the middle of winter and while the earth was 
 deeply covered with snow. The people employed in cut- 
 ting pine timber at that season, when it is easier to remove 
 the logs to the rivers in which they are subsequently floated 
 when the ice melts, have very frequently told me that, on 
 felling a tree, they have caught the young Crossbills, which 
 have been jerked out of their nests." Mr. M. Chamber- 
 lain, of St. John, New Brunswick, a gentleman held in 
 esteem as a careful and enthusiastic observer, says in a 
 communication to the Ornithologist and Oologist of May, 
 1881 : "I think it was in the third week in January, 1875, 
 
570 THE CROSSBILLS. 
 
 I was out moose-hunting and started a big buck, and, in 
 the chase I found him making a circle, and cut through a 
 bunch of trees to gain upon him. On my way through 
 the thick wood, I stopped to adjust a strap on my snow- 
 shoes, and found myself face to face with a White-winged 
 Crossbill on her nest the high bank of snow under me 
 bringing my head about level with the nest. As I ap- 
 proached closer to examine it, she flew to a branch near by, 
 where I was enabled carefully to examine and identify her. 
 The nest was placed in a fork of one of the main limbs of 
 the tree, and was composed externally of the long, gray moss 
 ( Usned) which grew in large patches on most of the trees in 
 this vicinity, and so much resembled these patches of moss 
 as to be difficult of detection. In the inside was a lining 
 of softer moss; and between the lining and the exterior 
 were small twigs interlaced. In the nest were three eggs, 
 of a bluish-white ground-color, having dashes of red upon 
 the larger end." Other proofs of these birds breeding in 
 winter are not wanting. In the .latter part of April, 1875, 
 after a severe winter, Mr. E. P. Bicknell found a nest of the 
 Common Crossbill at Riverdale, N. Y., of which he says: 
 " The nest was placed in a tapering cedar of rather scanty 
 foliage, about eighteen feet from the ground, and was with- 
 out any single main support, being built in a mass of small 
 tangled twigs, from which it was with difficulty detached. 
 The .situation could scarcely have been more conspic- 
 uous, being close to the intersection of several roads (all of 
 them more or less bordered with ornamental evergreens), 
 in plain sight of as many residences, and constantly exposed 
 to the view of passers-by. The materials of its composition 
 were of rather a miscellaneous character, becoming finer 
 and more select from without inwards. An exterior of 
 bristling spruce twigs, loosely arranged, surrounded a mass 
 
THE CROSSBILLS. 571 
 
 of matted shreds of cedar bark, which formed the principal 
 body of the structure, a few strips of the same appearing 
 around the upper border, the whole succeeded on the inside 
 by a sort of felting of finer material, which received the 
 scanty lining of black horse-hair, fine rootlets, grass stems, 
 pieces of string, and two or three feathers. This shallow 
 felting of the inner nest can apparently be removed intact 
 from the body of the structure, which, besides the above- 
 mentioned materials, contained small pieces of moss, leaves, 
 grass, string, cottony substances, and the green foliage of 
 cedar. The nest measured internally two and one-half 
 inches in diameter by over one and a quarter in depth; being 
 in diameter externally about four inches, and rather shal- 
 low in appearance. 
 
 "The fresh eggs are, in ground color, of a decided greenish 
 tint, almost immaculate on the smaller end, but on the op- 
 posite side, with irregular spots and dottings of lavender- 
 brown of slightly varying shade, interspersed with a few 
 heavy surface-spots of dark purple-brown. There is no ap- 
 proach in the arrangement of these to a circle, but between 
 the apex of the larger end and the greatest diameter of the 
 egg is a fine hair-like surface line; in two examples it forms 
 a complete though irregular circle, and incloses the princi- 
 pal spots. In the other egg, which is the largest, this line 
 is not quite complete, and the primary blotches are wanting, 
 but the secondary markings are correspondingly larger and 
 more numerous. In another egg there are two perfect 
 figures of 3 formed on the sides by the secondary marks, 
 one of them large and singularly symmetrical. The eggs 
 measure respectively .74X-56, .75X-58, .78X-59." 
 
 The curious bill of this bird is in special adaptation to 
 its food and the manner of securing it. Those sharply- 
 pointed curves of the mandibles serve as the most con- 
 
572 THE CROSSBILLS. 
 
 venient hooks for getting the seeds of the pine, the spruce 
 and the hemlock out of the cones. " On first glancing at 
 the bill of this extraordinary bird," says Wilson, the 
 great ornithologist, " one is apt to pronounce it deformed 
 and monstrous; but, on attentively observing the use to 
 which it is applied by the owner, and the dexterity with 
 which he detaches the seeds of the pine-tree from the cone 
 and from the husks that inclose them, we are obliged to 
 confess, on this, as on many other occasions where we have 
 judged too hastily of the operations of nature, that no 
 other conformation could have been so excellently adapted 
 to the purpose; and that its deviation from the common 
 form, instead of being a defect or monstrosity, as the cele- 
 brated French naturalist insinuates, is a striking proof of 
 the wisdom and kind superintending care of the great 
 Creator." The hooks of the bill are also used as instru- 
 ments for climbing, after the manner of the Parrots, as is 
 shown in the accompanying engraving. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 REMINISCENCES. 
 
 IN my first ornithological studies in Northern Ohio, the 
 most charming bird of all which attracted my attention 
 was the Cardinal Grosbeak (Cardinalis virginianus.) Through- 
 out the winter, almost every patch of woods near a corn- 
 field of the year before contained a pair male and female 
 but never more than a pair in the same vicinity. Indeed, 
 the species seemed much more common in winter than in 
 summer, and so was a sort of large, gay snow-bird. On 
 approaching its haunt, I was advised of its presence by its 
 loud, sharp, chipping note, quite distinguishable from any 
 other sound in the woods. About eight inches long, and 
 most elegantly formed, the most noticeable features of the 
 Cardinal are the rather long and somewhat rounded tail, 
 and the beautiful crest. The bright vermilion of the male 
 the upper parts darker, and the feathers of the back fringed 
 with bluish-ash renders him a most conspicuous object in 
 the leafless trees and the snowy landscape. From a nearer 
 point of view, the jet-black of his chin, front and lores, and 
 the roseate tint of his thick bill, set him off to fine advan- 
 tage. Every movement is elevated and stately. In form, 
 color and motion, he is the very ideal of elegance and 
 beauty. In form and gracefulness, the female is his exact 
 counterpart. Of a fine yellowish drab on the breast and 
 sides, and dusky-olive over the back; her crest, wings and 
 
574 THE CARDINAL GROSBEAK. 
 
 tail, tinged with vermilion; her chin, front and lores, deep 
 dusky if less brilliant, she is scarcely less beautiful than 
 her gay consort. 
 
 The loud, sprightly, and somewhat varied whistling, 
 which constitutes the song of the Cardinal, has always 
 commanded admiration. In those southern climes where 
 the species finds its most congenial home, and where 
 it is an abundant resident throughout the year, it is in 
 song from March till September. Nor does it render a 
 mere matin or vesper hymn, but may fife its loudest, clear- 
 est melody at almost any hour of the day. In the breed- 
 ing season its song is almost as full of enthusiasm and ges- 
 ticulation as that of the Purple Finch. His shy ways, in 
 the northern limits of his habitat, as he hops slyly about 
 the thicket in winter, or retires to the deep forest in the 
 breeding season, are strangely in contrast with his familiar 
 ways in the south. There he may dust himself in the high- 
 way till you almost trampled upon him, may build his 
 nest as near human dwellings as does the Thrasher or the 
 Mockingbird, or visit the farm-yard in company with Spar- 
 rows, Jays and Turtle-doves, to share the food of the com- 
 mon poultry in winter. Everywhere his bright figure and 
 sprightly ways render him welcome. Being readily caught 
 in a figure-four or trap cage, and thriving on almost any 
 kind of food, he is in great favor as a cage-bird of beauty 
 and of song. In the early history of our country he be- 
 came almost a commercial item, being carried to the Old 
 World in great numbers, where the admirers of his sprightly 
 melody called him the Virginia Nightingale. 
 
 The nest of the Cardinal is in a bush or tree, somewhat 
 after the manner of the Catbird, in the north, or the Mock- 
 ingbird, in the south; and is made of dry leaves, small 
 twigs, strips of bark from the grape-vine, and coarse grasses, 
 
THE TUFTED TITMOUSE. 575 
 
 the lining being of fine grasses carefully laid. The 4-5 
 eggs, 1.00X.80, are white, sometimes tinged with green or 
 gray, more or less spotted with light brown and lilac, and 
 sometimes heavily marked all over. 
 
 This species, so abundant in the south and southwest, is 
 found, more or less commonly, as far as the south side of 
 Lake Erie. In Western New York and to the eastward, 
 north of Virginia, it is but an occasional straggler. It has 
 been found, however, even as far north as Nova Scotia. 
 
 THE TUFTED TITMOUSE. 
 
 Among my first happy surprises in ornithology was the 
 Tufted Titmouse (Lophophanes bicolor) t it also being a com- 
 mon winter resident, or rather resident throughout the year 
 in Northern Ohio. About 6.00 long, with a rather long and 
 finely formed tail, it has that most elegant of bird orna- 
 ments a crest. It makes up therefore in graceful form and 
 sprightly carriage what it lacks in brilliancy of color the 
 upper parts being leaden blue, and the under parts grayish- 
 white, with forehead black, and sides tinged with yellowish- 
 brown. The most striking characteristic of this species is 
 its vocal performances. Now it lisps, twitters and chatters, 
 as if in intelligent conversation with its companions; again 
 it squeaks like a mouse, or whines like a puppy, or frequently, 
 and still more strikingly, it whistles like one calling a dog. 
 More than once did I follow this latter performance for long 
 distances through the woods, wondering much what sort 
 of bird or beast its author might be. On the whole, there 
 is much compass and variety, and not a little of a certain 
 grade of music, in these numerous notes and rather loud 
 melodies, and they are all suggestive of a sly quaintness or 
 a vigorous energy. 
 
 Scarcely less interesting than its voice is its manner of 
 
576 TOWHEE BUNTING. 
 
 moving and feeding. Its concave wings and tail, after the 
 manner of the Titmice, are suitable to its short, flitting, jerky 
 manner of flight. Its manner of perching is proud and 
 sprightly, with crest erect. According to universal testi- 
 mony, as also in conformity with the habits of Titmice and 
 Nuthatches in general, the nest of the Tufted Titmouse is 
 in some hole in a tree either a natural cavity suitable for 
 the purpose, or the vacated nest of the Downy Woodpecker, 
 or sometimes the bird will dig out a cavity for itself in a 
 perfectly sound tree. In any case the cavity is well lined 
 with various soft and warm materials, closely felted together. 
 Thus the nest is at once a very comfortable and a very safe 
 one. The eggs, some 6 or 8, about .72X.57, are clear 
 white, specked and spotted with red at the large end. In 
 the case of the eggs, as in that of the nests, there is a marked 
 similarity in the whole group of Titmice and Nuthatches. 
 
 Common in the Southern, and even numerous in the Mid- 
 dle States, this species seems to find its northern limit in 
 the Connecticut Valley in the east, about the south shore 
 of Lake Erie and in Nebraska westward, and it would seem 
 that it does not extend farther than Kansas in the west. In 
 this western limitation, it is unlike the Blue-gray Gnat- 
 catcher, to which it is so similar in the northern boundaries 
 of its habitat. The Tufted Titmouse is resident through- 
 out its range, thus showing how readily the same species 
 may adapt itself to different latitudes; and as it is a very 
 hardy bird, spending the coldest winters in its northern 
 limits without any apparent inconvenience, there would 
 seem to be no cause in itself why it might not thrive still 
 further north. 
 
 TOWHEE BUNTING. 
 
 An abundant species, associated with my early studies, 
 both in Western Pennsylvania and Northern Ohio, is the 
 
TOW HER BUNTING. 577 
 
 Chewink or Towhee Bunting (Pipilo erythrophtkalmus] . 
 About 8.50 long, and 11.00 in extent, the male is black 
 above, the color extending in rounded outline over the 
 breast; the sides are chestnut; the belly white; the vent 
 pale reddish; there is a white spot at the base of the prima- 
 ries, and an oblique white mark about in their middle; 
 there is also some white on the tertiaries; the long tail has 
 the three outer feathers finely marked with white. In ma- 
 turity the iris is bright red. The female is brown where 
 the male is black. Thickets, bushy pastures and barren 
 tracts on the higher grounds are the favorite resorts of this 
 species. It comes early, reaching the Middle States in 
 April. The bottom poles of an old rail fence, among the 
 briers by the woods, is very likely to be its thoroughfare; and 
 at all times it keeps for the most part on or near the ground. 
 Sit down quietly in the thicket, and you will hear its sharp 
 rustle, as it scratches among the dry leaves; this hen-like 
 scratching, probably in search of food, being one of its 
 marked characteristics of habit. As it flits from bush to 
 bush, never flying far nor high, you can hear the whir-r-r-r y 
 of its short, rounded, concave wings, and as it opens its 
 long, fan-like tail, with a jerking motion, the white mark- 
 ings contrast strongly with the jet-black figure. It hops, and 
 sidles, and dodges about, in and out through the brush-pile, 
 the brambles and the thicket, with a nervous, sparrow-like 
 movement, its tail being often thrown up, after the manner 
 of the Chat or Wren. Frequently it calls out, chewink, or 
 towhee, with a sharp and somewhat prolonged aspirate on 
 the second syllable, thus rendering either of those words, 
 which have become its common names, very distinctly; but 
 in order to get the exact effect, the words must be pro- 
 nounced just so, with just such an emphasis and intona- 
 tion. Before hearing the note, neither of the above names 
 37 
 
578 TOWHEE BUNTING. 
 
 would be so pronounced as to give any idea of the sound 
 which they may so precisely imitate when properly enun- 
 ciated. Every now and then the male will mount a con- 
 spicuous bush, tree, or stub, preferably a dry tree-top, and 
 sing for some time his monotonous ditty, who-he-tit-it-it-it- 
 it-it-it, which, though by no means strikingly musical, is 
 still a pleasing sound amid the voices of the early spring. 
 
 Classed with the Sparrows in the Fringillida family, 
 and hence a thick-billed sead-eating bird, it is also fond 
 of insects and their larvae, and works diligently for 
 them. 
 
 The nest, formed in May, is quite secretively placed on 
 the ground, at the root of a bush, under a log, under 
 the edge of a brush-pile, or in a thick bunch of grass; 
 the site being so well excavated as to sink the rim nearly 
 or quite level with the surface. The structure is bulky, of 
 dried leaves and shreds of bark, being lined with fine 
 grasses. The 4-6 eggs, about .92X.72, and quite roundish, 
 are greenish or grayish-white, finely specked and spotted 
 all over with reddish-brown and lilac. This species sum- 
 mers from the Carolinas to Northern New England and 
 corresponding latitudes, and winters from the Carolinas to 
 about the middle of Florida. 
 
 Residing permanently throughout the winter habitat of 
 the above species, is the White-eyed Towhee (P. leucopis), 
 differing from the former " in being smaller and in having 
 less white on the tail. This never extends over more than 
 three pairs of the tail feathers and does not occupy the 
 entire width of the outer web, but has a narrow line of 
 black next to the shaft. The white of the wings is also less 
 extended. The chestnut is much paler, but the most notice- 
 able difference in the living specimen is the white eye. The 
 females may be distinguished at once by the slaty tint of 
 
THE FOX-COLORED SPARROW. 579 
 
 the portions which are black in the males." The notes of 
 these birds are said to be quite different from those of the 
 former species, sounding likejo-ree, the emphasis being de- 
 cidedly on the last syllable, the note giving the popular 
 name Joree to the species. 
 
 THE FOX-COLORED SPARROW. 
 
 During the month of April, in my first year of ornitho- 
 logical study in the locality now under review, I made my 
 first acquaintance with the Fox-colored Sparrow (Passerella 
 iliaca). I did not then, nor at any time since in my several 
 localities of observation, find it in any considerable num- 
 bers. Occasionally during March or early April, a small flock, 
 or more commonly a single individual, may appear in a 
 stealthy migration. Like the Chewink, it follows the bram- 
 ble-grown fences along the edges of woods and thickets, 
 dodges in and out in the most coy and wary manner, 
 scratches among the leaves, and on some slight disturbance, 
 hops up on an eminence and surveys the surroundings with 
 a quiet caution. During such times it has a soft tsip, tsip, 
 as a sort of conversational note; this, in case of alarm, may 
 become a sharp chuck, chuck. 
 
 Having passed the latitude of 47, it spends its summer 
 in a sparrow-like manner, and returns during October and 
 November to spend the winter anywhere between New Jer- 
 sey and Florida, becoming rare in the latter State, and not 
 reported beyond. Audubon's account of its breeding habits 
 in Labrador, and Maynard's history of the same in the 
 Magdalen Islands, are in complete harmony. The nest is 
 placed on the ground, under the drooping limbs of the 
 thick evergreens. It is large and bulky, composed of dry 
 grass and moss, and is lined with fine grass and feathers. 
 Eggs, oval in form, 4-5, pale-green, specked, spotted, and 
 
580 THE FOX-COLORED SPARROW. 
 
 blotched with reddish-brown and lilac. Sometimes the 
 markings are quite heavy. Size, .85 X.62-.86X.65. 
 
 It will thus appear that this largest of our Sparrows is 
 a most hardy species; scarcely more than the herald of 
 winter, as it returns from its boreal summer resorts, passing 
 the inclement months barely beyond the zone of continued 
 ice and snow, and seeking its northern climes again with 
 the first glow of early spring. It is one of the few song- 
 birds, for which we may look, along with the passage of 
 the Wild Geese and Ducks. It is pre-eminently a song-bird. 
 Audubon bears the most unqualified testimony to the power 
 and charm of its melodies on the bleak coasts of Labrador; 
 and Maynard is no less enthusiastic over "the magnificent 
 song of the male filling the clear, still air with melody" as 
 he listened to it in the Magdalen Islands. He says: "These 
 fine strains consist at first of three clear, rather rapid notes, 
 given with increasing ertiphasis, then a short pause ensues, 
 and the remainder of the lay is poured forth more delib- 
 erately, terminating with a well rounded note, giving a 
 finish to a song which, for sweetness and clearness of tone, 
 is seldom surpassed even by our best performers." The 
 loitering migrants, in the more genial days of April, give a 
 fine prelude to the summer song. How these birds will 
 cheer the Indian summer, in common with many other birds, 
 with the subdued echoes of their earlier songs, has been 
 noted by all; even in January, in the south, the little flocks, 
 disporting in secluded sunny nooks, lisp their subdued 
 melodies. 
 
 Some 7.10 long, and 11.25 in extent, the crown is slaty, 
 streaked with rufous; upper parts generally, including 
 wings and tail, rufous, brightest on the rump; ear-coverts, 
 and more or less variable marks on the throat, rufous; tri- 
 angular spots on the upper part of the breast, light red, the 
 
THE BLUE-GRAY GNAT-CATCHER. 581 
 
 darker triangular spots lower down, and the streaks on the 
 sides being almost dark brown; wing-coverts, slightly 
 whitened; upper mandible brown; lower yellow. 
 
 THE BLUE-GRAY GNAT-CATCHER. 
 
 Occasionally, in Northern Ohio, the nervous flitting 
 of the Blue-gray Gnat-catcher (Polioptila cosrulea) would 
 attract me. This is about the northern boundary of its 
 habitat, but it extends westward to the Pacific, and is strictly 
 migratory. Only 4.50 long, and much of this lineal dimen- 
 sion consisting of the tail, it is but 6.00 in extent. The 
 color is bluish-gray above and bluish-white below; head 
 bluest, with black front and eye-brows in the male; wings 
 brownish-black, with secondaries near the body edged with 
 white; the tail, which is longer than the body and a little 
 rounded, black; the exterior feathers white nearly to the 
 base, and the next two tipped with white; the very slender 
 bill, overhanging and notched at the tip, broad and bristled at 
 base, and so resembling that of the Flycatcher; legs long, 
 slender and black. Warbler, Titmouse and Flycatcher in 
 movement, it is in the main a Warbler in structure; its 
 diminutive body, however, and long rounded tail giving 
 it a rather Tom-tit appearance; its plain drab-like colors 
 also remind one of the Titmice. Its common note, tsee,tsee, 
 tsee, is much like that of the Kinglet, but its soft, sweet 
 warble is peculiar to itself. It is one of the subdued and 
 tender vocalists of our woodlands. 
 
 The most striking feature of this little favorite is its ele- 
 gantly artistic nest. Placed on a limb, or in the top of a 
 tree, anywhere from ten to fifty feet from the ground, it is 
 closely felted together of the softest materials of the forest 
 bud-scales, dried blossoms, and the delicate cottony sub- 
 stance which envelops the unfolding fronds of ferns, with 
 
582 THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT. 
 
 flexible skeletons of leaves, as an external framework of the 
 wall of felt, and a few slender, wiry circles of horse-hair, 
 perhaps, to make the soft interior symmetrical. Often, 
 perhaps generally, the nest is so placed that when it is re- 
 moved from its limb or crotch, the lower part of the inverted 
 conical form is truncate, or nearly bottomless, excepting the 
 soft lining. The rim of the nest is generally contracted or 
 " purse-like," rendering the eggs secure in heavy winds. 
 But the most marked feature of this structure is its orna- 
 mentation. The whole exterior is closely covered with 
 small, brightly colored lichens commonly of a greenish- 
 gray. Thus the nest of this species is more beautiful than 
 that of the Wood Pewee, and fully equal to that of the 
 Hummingbird. Like these, it is in such close conformity 
 to the lichen-covered limb on which it is placed as to seem 
 a mere natural excrescence. Very fine grasses and vege- 
 table downs constitute the body of the nest. The 4-6 eggs, 
 some .58X.44, are roundish, and bluish-white, thickly 
 and prettily specked with dark-brown and lilac all over. 
 
 THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT. 
 
 In the locality now under consideration, I first made the 
 acquaintance of that eccentric bird, the Yellow-breasted 
 Chat (Icteria virens). Some 7.00 long and 9.00 in extent, 
 and somewhat resembling the Tanagers in form, it has the 
 whole upper parts of a rich, deep olive-green; tips of the 
 wings and inner vanes of the wing and tail-feathers, dusky; 
 throat and breast, brilliant yellow, this color also washing 
 the sides and lining the wings; belly and vent, white; front, 
 slaty or dusky; lores, black; eye-brow, and nearly all the 
 eye-lid, and spot at the gape, white. The sexes are scarcely 
 distinguishable. 
 
 This beautiful and interesting species resorts to the past- 
 
THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT. 583 
 
 ures overgrown with brambles and bushes, and to the 
 thickets. Here, with every facility for concealment, it de- 
 lights to tantalize the most patient observer with its weird, 
 ventriloquial, and almost endlessly varied, vocal perform- 
 ances. There are soft, subdued notes, half whisper, half 
 whistle; then abrupt, explosive sounds, reminding one of 
 the rattling loquacity of the Catbird or the Thrasher; these 
 again are succeeded by deep, guttural chucks, as of certain 
 Thrushes or Blackbirds; or there may be the most sprightly 
 twittering, or a cawing and mewing and all these so hur- 
 ried and closely connected, and in such a variety of tones and 
 modulations, as almost to bewilder and astound the listener. 
 Meanwhile the bird keeps for the most part wholly out of 
 sight, and in its concealment changes places so rapidly as 
 to keep the listener on the most excited alert. He knows 
 not where to expect the next burst of merriment, and when 
 it breaks upon him he is equally at a loss where to locate 
 it. During moonlight nights, and especially before the 
 arrival of the females, this strange vocal exercise may be 
 heard at almost any time between the twilights. 
 
 If you should approach its haunts in the nesting period, 
 the bird may mount almost perpendicularly into the air; 
 and with dangling feet and legs, and an abundance of excited 
 noise, perform the most ludicrous gesticulations. Occa- 
 sionally it will seem to abandon its coyness, and mounting 
 to the top of some bare stump, in open sight, will give its 
 recitative as fearlessly as a Chewink. 
 
 The nest, but a few feet from the ground, and ensconced 
 away in the brambles and thickets, is rather bulkily built of 
 dried leaves and strips of fibrous bark, and lined with fine 
 rootlets and grasses. The 3-4 eggs, 1.00 X .80, are round- 
 ish, of a delicate flesh-color, spotted and specked with light 
 brown or red, mostly at the large end. I once found the 
 
584 THE BLACK-THROATED BUNTING. 
 
 Cowbird's egg, with a large hole in the side of it, lying on 
 the ground beneath this nest. Probably the spirited Chat, in 
 indignation over this imposition of an interloping parasite, 
 had stuck its bill into the egg and ousted it. 
 
 The Yellow-breasted Chat, subsisting on insects and ber- 
 ries, reaches the middle districts in May, extending to 
 New Jersey and the lower Hudson, Northern Ohio and cor- 
 responding localities westward, and returning to the south 
 in August. On the High Plains, west, it is replaced by the 
 Long-tailed Chat. 
 
 THE BLACK-THROATED BUNTING. 
 
 To the student of nature, the identification of even the most 
 established facts is ever a fresh surprise. No matter how 
 fully Wilson, Audubon, and the more recent ornithologists 
 may have reported our birds, my acquaintance with each 
 species has been almost as delightful a novelty as if I had 
 been the first to discover and describe it. Of all the Spar- 
 rows which find their habitat in Northern Ohio, the last one 
 to respond to my search was the Black-throated Bunting 
 (Euspiza americana). I had long been on the alert for it, when 
 one evening at sunset, as I was riding by a rich clover field 
 on low clayey ground, I heard a new song in a tree by the 
 road. Chic-chic-chttac-chick-chick-chick, and chick-ticktshe-chick- 
 chick-chick, in loud, explosive tones, recalls that song still 
 vividly to my ears. "A Black-throated Bunting, I'll bet," 
 said I to my companion, who carried the gun; "out, and 
 let's have it." While he climbed out of the buggy and 
 made ready to shoot, I noted the gesticulations of the bird 
 as it sang most enthusiastically on a topmost spray and in 
 the blaze of the evening light. With head uplifted till he 
 stood quite perpendicular, and with drooping wings and 
 tail, he fairly shook himself in the ardor of his utterance. 
 
THE BLACK-THROATED BUNTING. 535 
 
 The report of the gun interrupted the song; and in a few 
 moments the fallen bird, warm, and quivering with the 
 last throes of life, was in my hand. "How cruel!" many 
 would exclaim. "Yes," from one point of view; but most 
 emphatically, "no," from another. True, every life which 
 God has ordered is precious, and "not a Sparrow falleth to 
 the ground without Him;" but is not the bird or beast of 
 prey, by the law of its nature, under necessity of subsisting 
 on innocent lives ? And has not my thirst for knowledge 
 greater claim than the craw of a Hawk? Besides, as Dr. 
 Brehm has well said, to die in the midst of one's song is a 
 death which even a poet might crave. 
 
 But to my bird. He is a beauty. With a peculiarly 
 thick, but not unsightly, bill, he is rather long and slender 
 for a Sparrow. About 6.50 long; forehead, greenish-olive; 
 nape and neck, bluish-ash; eye-brows and moustache, yel- 
 low, continuing for some distance in white lines; chin, 
 white; throat, black; breast, yellow; upper parts after the 
 manner of the Sparrows, with a bright patch of chestnut- 
 red on the shoulder; under parts, dull-white. This is the 
 coloring of the male. The female lacks the black throat, 
 the bright red patch on the shoulder, and has a mere tinge 
 of the yellow parts; she has, moreover, a noticeably narrow, 
 dark streak of about half an inch at the lower corners of 
 the mandible, and narrow broken streaks of brown on the 
 breast. 
 
 If I am not mistaken, the female has a song one differ- 
 ent from that of the male, though I cannot now describe it. 
 One afternoon, as a friend and I were ransacking a field oc- 
 cupied by these birds, in search of their nests, we noticed 
 a female, singing in a bush. My comrade was a good marks- 
 man, and took deliberate aim, and, as we thought, the bird 
 dropped. After searching the spot thoroughly, however, 
 
586 THE BLACK-THROATED BUNTING. 
 
 we found no bird. Presently we heard the same song in a 
 bush near by, and having a good view of the bird, fired as 
 before, again seeing it fall, as we thought, but once more 
 failing to find it. The same illusion was repeated, at another 
 point, the third time, and only after the fourth shot did we 
 take the bird. This was something I never could explain. 
 
 Evidently Audubon was mistaken as to the nest and eggs 
 of this species. The nest is a loose and bulky structure, 
 some 3 inches deep and 5 in diameter externally; internal 
 diameter 2.50 and depth 2.00; composed of grasses, weed- 
 stalks, and such other coarse vegetable material as the 
 locality may afford, and lined with fine grasses, finished 
 generally with horse-hair. It is sometimes placed in a tus- 
 sock of grass, but generally a few feet from the ground in 
 a bush or hedge, or it may even be five feet from the ground 
 in a small tree. The 4-5 eggs, some .75 X. 60-85 X. 62, and 
 so about the size of the Bluebird's eggs, are generally so 
 nearly like them in color as to be indistinguishable. 
 Generally, however, they are a shade darker, and occa- 
 sionally are specked with dark brown or blackish. 
 
 This species seems inclined to a local habitat, choosing 
 level fields of rich meadow, with heavy or clayey soil. It is 
 said to be rare in sandy regions. On the whole, it is rather 
 southern in its range. Wintering outside of our boundaries, 
 and entering the Middle States early in May, or certainly 
 by the middle, it reaches the Connecticut Valley, Northern 
 Ohio I have never seen it in the northern counties of 
 Western New York and corresponding latitudes as far 
 west as Nebraska and Colorado. It breeds throughout its 
 range, and is much more abundant in the south and south- 
 west than at the north, which latter part it leaves certainly 
 by August. The food of this species is that of its family 
 in general seeds and insects. 
 
THE GOLDEN EAGLE. 587 
 
 _THE GOLDEN EAGLE. 
 
 Among the earliest reminiscences of my ornithological 
 studies, are the screams and screeches of a very fine speci- 
 men of the Golden Eagle (Aquila chrysaetus), kept in a 
 large cage out of doors by a young scientific amateur in 
 my neighborhood. It had been taken from the nest when 
 quite young, I think, and reared in confinement. It was a 
 grand pet, and, in its solitary gambols and sports about 
 the cage, was a very interesting study. 
 
 The average length of the female of this species is given 
 as 57.45, and the stretch as 85.00. Average length of male, 
 32.50; stretch, 83.00. General color, dark-brown,' tinged 
 with purplish; wings, tail and under parts, darker; head, 
 neck, shoulders, tibia and tarsus, lighter, and tipped and 
 Qdged with yellowish or golden-brown, thus giving some 
 propriety at least to the common name. The base of the 
 tail is white. The young are similar, but lighter in all re- 
 spects, and, with about two-thirds of the tail at base, white. 
 In the intermediate stages the tail may be white and brown 
 mottled. The young, with the white tail deeply banded 
 with dark brown, is the Ring-tailed Eagle of the earliest 
 ornithologists. This species may always be distinguished 
 by its tarsus feathered to the toes. 
 
 Grand as our Common or White-headed Eagle is con- 
 ceded to be, he is but a commonplace and vulgar bird 
 compared with the present species. Indeed; the Golden 
 Eagle is the noblest bird of our continent. Disdaining car- 
 rion, except in extreme hunger, and all ordinary pilfering 
 and predatory habits, he subsists, it would seem; on the 
 noblest game, such as hares, grouse, young fawns and 
 wild turkeys. Nor does he condescend to chase his prey, 
 and capture it only after a hot pursuit, after the manner of 
 Hawks and Falcons, but, detecting it afar with his keen eye, 
 
588 THE GOLDEN EAGLE. 
 
 swoops down upon it from some obscure height, and takes 
 it by surprise. Then bearing it away to an elevated point, 
 in a tree or on a ledge of a high rock, he plucks it clean, 
 and eats at leisure. The loftiest mountains are his home, 
 and on the shelvings of their most rugged precipices he 
 locates his eyrie. Occasionally he may make a detour into 
 the settled parts of the country, soaring high, and in slow, 
 wide and most majestic circles; or, if he pass from one 
 mountain height to some other in the distance, it is by the 
 highest possible pathway in the sky. If he be in certain 
 stages of plumage, with good eyes, and the light favorable, 
 one may distinguish him, as a great rarity, by the dark band 
 on his white tail. But generally, if one would study him, one 
 must go to the uninhabited and almost uninhabitable parts 
 of the earth, far above the ordinary planes of animated 
 nature, and there contemplate him in the sublimest solitude. 
 As he climbs to the very clouds, and penetrates " behind 
 the veil of the storm," even the mountains are low down 
 in respect to him, and he seems to know and care but little 
 about the world. He who shoots a Golden Eagle secures 
 a rare trophy, and may be assured that he will not repeat 
 his success very often in a life-time. Though seldom seen, 
 they are not considered as rare on the continent; and it may 
 be doubted, indeed, whether there are any fewer of them 
 " to-day in Eastern North America than there were when the 
 Pilgrims landed at Plymouth." In fact, such is their ele- 
 vation above the ordinary range of human life, so nearly 
 inaccessible are their breeding places, and such is their 
 wariness and sagacity, that it is difficult to conceive of a 
 time when their numbers may be seriously impaired, or 
 their habits or habitat essentially modified. The nest of 
 this species is on the most inaccessible points of huge 
 mountain walls; it is bulky, and rudely built of sticks, 
 
THE GOLDEN EAGLE. 58$ 
 
 and lined with weeds, or any of the softer materials avail- 
 able The eggs, 1-3, about 2.90X2.25, elliptical or spherical, 
 are dull or creamy-white, generally spotted and blotched 
 with brown, sometimes unspotted. 
 
 Concerning the manner in which the Golden Eagle 
 teaches its young to fly, Sir Humphrey Davy says: " I 
 once saw a very interesting sight above the crags of Ben 
 Nevis. Two parent Eagles were teaching their offspring, 
 two young birds, the maneuvers of flight. They began 
 by rising from the top of the mountain in the eye of 
 the sun. It was about midday, and bright for the climate. 
 They at first made small circles, and the young birds imi- 
 tated them. They paused on their wings, waiting till they 
 had made their flight, and then took a second and larger 
 gyration, always rising towards the sun, and enlarging their 
 circle of flight, so as to make a gradually ascending spiral. 
 The young ones still and slowly followed, apparently flying 
 better as they mounted; and they continued this sublime 
 exercise, always rising till they became mere points in the 
 air, and the young ones were lost, and afterwards their 
 parents, to our aching sight." This is written concerning 
 the European Golden Eagle, which is very similar to ours. 
 
 Dr. Rush, in his lectures on " The Effects of Fear on Man," 
 says : " During the revolutionary war, a company of sol- 
 diers were stationed near the highlands of the Hudson 
 River. A Golden Eagle had placed her nest in the cleft of 
 the rocks half way between the summit and the river. A 
 soldier was let down by his companions, suspended by a 
 rope fastened around his body. When he reached the nest, 
 he suddenly found himself attacked by the Eagle. In self- 
 defense he drew the only weapon about him, his knife, and 
 made repeated passes at the bird, when accidentally he cut 
 the rope almost off. It began unraveling; those above 
 
590 THE TURKEY BUZZARD. 
 
 hastily drew him up, and relieved him from his perilous sit- 
 uation at the moment when he expected to be precipitated 
 to the bottom. The doctor stated that so powerful was the 
 effect of the fear the soldier had experienced whilst in 
 danger, that ere three days had elapsed his hair had become 
 quite gray." (Audubon.) 
 
 THE TURKEY BUZZARD. 
 
 Fresh as of yesterday, among the early reminiscences of 
 bird-life in Northern Ohio is the magnificent flight of the 
 Turkey Buzzard (Cathartes aura). How smoothly and 
 noiselessly have I seen its great figure glide over the fields 
 and through the open woods, avoiding every obstacle, as it 
 curved from side to side and rose and fell with the utmost 
 ease and gracefulness. Most impressive of all, however, 
 were its grand circles, with almost motionless wings, as it 
 climbed to the most exalted regions of flight. Sometimes 
 I could see as many as a dozen, on some clear sunny morn- 
 ing in June, intersecting their wide and slowly described 
 circles, at so great a height, that but for one's knowledge of 
 the size of the birds, they might have been mistaken for some 
 small species of the feathered tribes. I know of few things 
 more tranquilizing and suggestive of sublime thoughts than 
 such a sight as this. But from this grand point of elevation 
 there is but a step to the most degraded and filthy associa- 
 tions. I am reminded, after all, that these are nothing but 
 " dirty Buzzards ;" and by that most potent law of the mind, 
 the association of ideas, my nostrils are regaled with the 
 vilest odors, and my eyes recall the most unsightly forms of 
 carrion. I transfer these birds of lofty flight to the ground, 
 and think of them as cramming their craws with putrid 
 flesh, and moping around like drowsy gluttons till digestion 
 has labored through the nauseous mass; or, on some dis- 
 
THE TURKEY BUZZARD. 591 
 
 turbance to the bird, till the surplus is vomited up, thus en- 
 abling it to fly. There is good evidence, however, that it 
 does not resort to carrion, when its capacious stomach can 
 be appeased with a sufficient quantity of better flavored 
 flesh. Moreover, its filthy feeding, under the ravenous 
 necessities of hunger, renders it invaluable, in the warmer 
 zones of its habitat, as a scavenger. 
 
 Notwithstanding the interesting experiments of Audubon, 
 there is good evidence of the olfactory capacity of this as 
 of all the rest of the Vultures. The nerves of smell are 
 well developed. It is probable, however, that in seeking 
 their supplies of food at a distance, they are guided by the 
 eye much more than by the sense of smell. There is much 
 force in the words of Job: "There is a path which no fowl 
 knoweth, and which the Vulture's eye hath not seen." "The 
 Vulture," says Tristram, "can detect the path of a wounded 
 deer from a height where it can itself be descried by no 
 human eye. The process is probably this: The Griffon- 
 vulture,* which first detects the quarry, descends from his 
 elevation at once; another, sweeping the horizon at a still 
 greater distance, observes his neighbor's movements, and 
 follows his course; a third, still farther removed, follows 
 the flight of the second; he is traced by another, and thus 
 a perpetual succession is kept up, so long as a morsel of 
 flesh remains over which to consort. Thus, on great battle- 
 fields, and during sieges, as at that of Sebastopol, immense 
 numbers of Vultures were congregated in a few hours, 
 where the bird was comparatively scarce before. During 
 the Crimean war, the whole race from the Caucasus and 
 Asia Minor seemed to have collected to enjoy so unwonted 
 an abundance. The Arabs of North Africa declare that 
 at that time very few 'Nissi' (Vultures) were seen in their 
 
 *This an abundant species in Palestine. 
 
592 THE TURKEY BUZZARD. 
 
 accustomed haunts, and believe that they were all gathered, 
 even from the Atlas, to feed on Russian horses." (Natural 
 History of the JBible.) This eminent naturalist further 
 adds concerning the Vultures: "Their enormous capacity 
 for food, combined with the power of long abstinence, is a 
 wonderful provision of creative wisdom for carrion feeders, 
 whose supply is so uncertain, while the necessity for the 
 immediate removal of offensive matter is so urgent." Our 
 Turkey Buzzard extends its northern habitat to the south 
 of Lake Erie and corresponding latitudes. It is a rather 
 frequent straggler in Southern New England, and Pro- 
 fessor Charles Linden has recently seen it near Buffalo, N. Y. 
 The Southern Middle and the Southern States are the chosen 
 habitat of this species. There it resides in great num- 
 bers. 
 
 As to the nidification of this species, Mr. Maynard says : 
 " Nests, placed on the tops of stumps, on logs, on ruined 
 buildings, in hollow trees, or on the ground; but little or no 
 material is used. Eggs, one or two in number, varying from 
 elliptical to oval in form, dirty white or creamy in color, 
 spotted and blotched irregularly, but sometimes more thickly 
 on the large end, with reddish-brown and umber. Dimen- 
 sions, from 1.80X2.65 to 1.90X2.75." 
 
 Female, 27.25 long, and 75.00 in extent; male, 26.75 
 long, and 67.00 in extent; the sexes are similar, being 
 dark-brown throughout, with a bluish gloss or irides- 
 cence, the feathers of the wings being edged with lighter; 
 the head is unfeathered, after the manner of the Vul- 
 tures, the red skin being corrugated and beset with a few 
 bristly feathers ; feet, flesh-colored ; bill, white. In size 
 and form, and somewhat in color, this carrion-eater bears 
 no small resemblance to our Turkey. The nestlings make 
 their first appearance in a dirty white down. 
 
THE HERONS. 593 
 
 The Black Buz-zard of the south (Cathartes atratus), 
 some 26 inches long and 58 in extent, is brownish-black, 
 lighter on the wings. It has a slight nest on the ground, 
 the eggs, 1 or 2, being creamy-white, heavily marked with 
 
 brown. 
 
 KIRTLAND'S WARBLER. 
 
 I never met Kirtland's Warbler, but some of the most 
 valuable of my first ornithological instructions were given 
 privately and informally by Dr. Kirtland, so that it is very 
 proper to note here his interesting discovery of this bird 
 (Dendr&ca kirtlandi), shot near Cleveland, Ohio, in 1851. 
 Since that time, five more of the same species have been 
 taken in Ohio; two at Ann Arbor, Mich.; and one on the 
 Bahama Islands, near which, at sea, the first specimen of the 
 kind had been found, some ten years before Dr. Kirtland 
 identified and described it. 
 
 This large Warbler, some 5.50 in length, and quite robust 
 in form, is bluish-ash above, " narrowly streaked on crown, 
 and more broadly on back, with black; forehead, lores and 
 space beneath eye, black; eye-lids, two narrow bands across 
 wings, and patch on inner webs of two outer tail-feathers, 
 white; under parts, clear yellow, becoming nearly white on 
 under tail-coverts, with spots in band across breast, and 
 streaks on sides, black. * * * Female similar, but much 
 paler beneath, slightly over-washed above with reddish, 
 and the dark markings are much more restricted." The 
 color and markings of this species are every way similar 
 to those of the Canada Warbler, but the form is not 
 that of a Flycatching Warbler, but of a Dendrceca. 
 
 THE HERONS. 
 
 Strongly characterized among birds are the Herons and 
 their relatives. They are at once the giants and the fisher- 
 
 38 
 
594 THE HERONS. 
 
 men among the Waders. Even the Godwits, Willets and 
 Curlews are but pigmies as compared with their larger rep- 
 resentatives; and no species of Plover, Snipe or Sandpiper 
 has a bill at all adapted to seizing fish. The long, slender- 
 pointed bill of the Heron is a most effective spear; his stilt- 
 like legs are long enough to bear him out to sufficient depths 
 to reach his prey; and the length of his many jointed, sinu- 
 ous neck is equal to that of his legs. His eye is keen, his 
 wings are immense, and his body, as compared with the 
 size of his members, is astonishingly small. The toes, the 
 outer one of which is considerably palmated, are long 
 enough to support so light a body on the mire and the soft 
 ooze. The structure of the foot is strictly that of the 
 perching bird, and so accustomed are these birds to stand- 
 ing on one foot, with the other drawn up into the feathers, 
 that the one foot is often much larger than the other. The 
 beak, cleft as far as the eyes, opens a gullet sufficiently 
 large to admit a fair-sized fish. The patch of naked skin, 
 including the eyes, extends to the base of the bill. The 
 plumage is of a loose, crape-like structure; and there are 
 long, pointed and pendent feathers about the lower neck 
 and breast, also, in most cases, on the back. Moreover, this 
 class of birds has two curious items of structure as yet 
 wholly unexplained the pectinated or comb-shaped inside 
 edge of the middle claw, and the thickened, yellow, hair- 
 like appendages, or powder-down, on the breast. Some 
 have affirmed that the latter is phosphorescent, and so affords 
 a luminous attraction for fishes at night. 
 
 These birds frequent shallow streams, flats, swamps and 
 marshes, generally building platform nests, of sticks and 
 other coarse materials, for the most part in trees, and gen- 
 erally breeding in communities; the flat nests being neces- 
 sary to accommodate the long legs of the parent bird while 
 
THE HERONS. 595 
 
 sitting, as also those of the young, which remain in the nest 
 until they are well grown. The three to five eggs, small 
 for the size of the bird, are oval, and of a clear, light blu- 
 ish or greenish tinge. The callow young are reared in the 
 nest with the most lavish feeding. Greedy, gluttonous and 
 sluggish, but exceedingly shy and wary, most species of this 
 group are by no means easy of approach. They are, for 
 the most part, birds of the warmer, or at least of the milder, 
 climates. 
 
 Having treated of the Great Blue Heron, and of the Bit- 
 terns elsewhere, I may mention the Night Heron (Nyctiardea 
 grisea var. ncem'a) as a noticeable bird in some parts of my 
 locality. Visiting St. Clair Flats in May and June, as my 
 boat glided along the various channels intersecting the par- 
 tially submerged tracts of tall sedges, which appeared like 
 immense fields of ripened grain, I would every now and 
 then put up this fine Heron, as if startled from its feeding 
 grounds. It would generally start before I came within 
 gun-shot, and rising high, would fly far away. On fine 
 sunny mornings there were sometimes dozens together, 
 high in air over the beautiful forests of Dickinson's Island, 
 cutting large and stately circles, wheeling round and round, 
 with scarcely a flap of the wings, after the manner of 
 Buzzards. I could get no clue to their nesting place, but 
 they must have been breeding near by. On the ground, 
 this species has none of the stately movements, or stock- 
 still standing in awaiting its prey, so peculiar to the Herons 
 proper. In the language of Audubon, "it walks in a stoop- 
 ing posture, the neck much retracted, until it sees its prey, 
 when, with a sudden movement, it stretches it out and 
 secures its food." It is a hunter after tadpoles, frogs, fishes, 
 small crustaceans and various water-insects. Like others 
 of its kind, it delights to traverse pools and marshes in the 
 
596 THE HERONS. 
 
 morning and evening twilight, but it is also very frequently 
 abroad in full daylight. Its common, hoarse note "qua" 
 has given it the name "Qua-bird," to the northward. 
 
 Observers in the Southern States attest to the abundant 
 breeding of this species in large communities, their flat nests, 
 built of sticks, being placed in trees and bushes, anywhere 
 from near the ground to the tops of tall trees. In New 
 England, on the Hudson as far north as Saratoga, and in 
 corresponding latitudes, it breeds, in large communities, in 
 the same style as in the south; and it is now well known that 
 it tarries late, and may even winter in the middle districts. 
 
 The eggs of this species, about four on an average, some 
 2.12X1.50, are oval or oblong-ovate, and of a clear, light 
 bluish-green color. The flattish nest, built of sticks, etc., 
 after the usual manner of Herons, is generally very filthy 
 after the young are out. 
 
 Some 24.75 long and 44.60 in extent, the neck and legs 
 are not so long as those of the Herons proper; the bill is 
 thick at the base, compressed, tapering and very pointed, 
 and has the upper outline noticeably curved this form of 
 the bill being peculiar to the Night Herons. The color of 
 the soft, blended plumage is especially chaste and elegant. 
 The tufty crown and the smoothly-laid back are dark 
 glossy-green; forehead and anterior of the neck, white; 
 breast and abdomen, and the lower elongated feathers, 
 creamy- white; posterior of the neck, a beautiful gray drab, 
 tinged with lilac; wings and tail, gray drab; bill, black; 
 legs, and space around the eyes, yellow; the large eyes, 
 bright red; the several long, slender and elegant plumes 
 springing from the crown in the breeding season, pure 
 white. The young are striped and mottled with various 
 shades of brown and white, and require several years to 
 reach the colors of maturity. 
 
THE GREAT WHITE EGRET. 597 
 
 Closely related to the above is the Yellow-crowned Night 
 Heron (Nyctiardea violaced]. Some 22 inches long and 
 about 41 in extent, it is a little smaller than the Common 
 Night Heron, and, excepting the plumage, its structure 
 is very similar. The back and head are furnished with long 
 and elegant lanceolate plumes. The general color is a pale, 
 ashy-blue, the feathers of the back and wings being dusky, 
 edged with pale or light-ash; upper part of the neck and 
 the head, blue-black; the white crown, including the long 
 upper plumes of the crest, is tinged with yellow in the 
 breeding season; there is a white patch on the cheek; eyes, 
 yellow; bill, black; feet and legs, black and yellow. The 
 young are greenish-brown above, with light spots and 
 streaks, and grayish-white, streaked with brown, below. 
 
 This southern species, regularly reaching the Carolinas, 
 and wintering in Southern Florida, like others of its kind, 
 breeds in community, often placing its nest in very tall trees. 
 
 Grandest of all the Herons, and prince among Waders, 
 is the Great White Heron (Ardea occidental is] of Florida Keys. 
 Some 47.50 long and 72.50 in extent, it is noticeably larger 
 than even the Great Blue Heron. Of the purest white 
 throughout, the feathers of the crown, neck and breast are 
 long and loosely lanceolate; bill, iris and legs, yellow; feet, 
 dusky-green; exceedingly shy and wary, and remote from 
 the habitations of man; slow and stately in all its move- 
 ments, it impresses one with an idea of purity, elegance and 
 dignity. The nest is similar to that of the Great Blue 
 Heron, the light bluish-green eggs being some 2.42x1.82. 
 
 THE GREAT WHITE EGRET. 
 
 Among the most conspicuous and beautiful of the birds 
 of this class are the Egrets, of which we have several rep- 
 resentatives in our more southern latitudes. Except in the 
 
598 THE GREAT WHITE EGRET. 
 
 structure of certain ornamental plumes, to which the name 
 Egret, from the French "aigrette," refers, they have no 
 differentiation in form, but in all respects are Herons. The 
 Great White Egret (Ardea egrettd), sometimes called White 
 Heron, is one of our finest birds of this kind. Some 38.25 
 long and 55.00 in extent, it is a large and stately bird, of 
 purest white, and during the breeding season has a most 
 elegant train of long filamentous plumes, flowing from the 
 back over the wings and tail. The iris, bill and lores are 
 bright yellow; and the legs are black. 
 
 One of the most characteristic traits of this bird, as also 
 of its class, is the gathering at some remote roosting place 
 at night. The student of their habits may easily imagine 
 a like scene to that so finely exhibited in the younger 
 Brehm's picture of the " Settling of the Storks at Night." 
 The inimitably bright and gorgeous hues of the sunset 
 have not only glorified the clouds from horizon to zenith, 
 but have tinged every cubic inch of atmosphere, and re- 
 flected themselves in every object of the landscape. In 
 some secluded thicket or swampy woodland, silently re- 
 flected in the glassy streams and ponds around, flocks of 
 these large snowy birds, with slow and steady beat of wings 
 and in graceful floating trains, appear. The more distant 
 flocks have their necks drawn up upon their breasts, and 
 their long legs extended out behind; those nearer are be- 
 ginning to hold their broad wings rigidly extended, as they 
 prepare to lower themselves; those nearer still, with out- 
 spread wings, and long neck and legs more or less stretched 
 out, are settling toward the woods and waters, while others 
 still are already adjusting themselves on the lower and 
 higher perches. Every movement is most elegant and 
 graceful, and indicates the most complete sense of seclusion, 
 safety and sweet contentment; while the brilliant lights, 
 
THE GREAT WHITE EGRET. 599 
 
 which fill the air, "are throwing soft but lambent tints of 
 rose, amber and gold on the snowy forms. They emit no 
 sound, except the occasional subdued croak of rather un- 
 musical voices, but the sight is most beautiful and suggestive. 
 
 The nightly repose over, the morning finds them astir. 
 " Their rough notes are uttered more loudly than in the 
 evening, and after a very short lapse of time they spread 
 their snowy pinions, and move in different directions, to 
 search for fiddlers, fish, insects of all sorts, small quadru- 
 peds or birds, snails and reptiles, all of which form the food 
 of this species." Each flock having reached its mud-flat 
 or sand-bar, the day is spent between food and repose. 
 If it be the approach of the breeding season, their "tour- 
 nament or dress-ball " occurs. The males, with swollen 
 throats and gurgling notes, strut about the females, raising 
 their snowy plumes in the most elegant and graceful man- 
 ner. Jealous conflicts may occur, the scene of wooing last- 
 ing from the middle of the forenoon till the middle of the 
 afternoon, or from after the morning meal till that of the 
 evening. Except in the breeding season, these birds are very 
 shy and unapproachable; then, breeding in -community, as is 
 the manner of their order, about the islands and the coast, 
 indeed, but more commonly about the lakes a few miles in 
 the interior, the broad, flat nest, placed on a bush or tree 
 over the water, is loosely made of sticks, and repaired from 
 year to year contains 2-4 elliptical to oval-formed, pale 
 bluish-green eggs, some 2.28x1-50. Wintering from the 
 Carolinas southward, but never wandering far from the sea- 
 coast, this species migrates regularly as far north as New 
 Jersey, and has been found as a straggler even in New 
 Brunswick. 
 
 How can we conceive of anything more chaste and ele- 
 gant than the Little White Egret, or Snowy Heron (Ardca 
 
600 THE REDDISH EGRET. 
 
 candidissima), which has a rather more southerly habitat than 
 the former, and is some 23.75 long and 38.00 in extent. The 
 loose filamentous plumes of the head, back and breast are 
 gracefully recurved; its entire plumage of dazzling white- 
 ness is set off by the orange-yellow of the iris, lores and legs, 
 and its bill tipped with black. In form, it seems almost 
 ethereal; in color, pure as the glittering snow; in carriage 
 and flight, graceful as the floating down or the fleecy cloud. 
 Breeding in quite large communities, placing its rather 
 small and slightly hollowed nest, which is loosely built of 
 sticks, on trees and bushes which stand in and near the 
 water, this species lays 2-4 eggs, 1.82X1.22, elliptical or 
 oval, and of a pale greenish-blue. 
 
 Next in the commonly received order of classification is 
 the Louisiana Heron or Egret (Ardea ludovidana) . Some 
 25.50 long and 35.39 in extent, the form is particularly slen- 
 der and graceful, and the plumes on the back and breast 
 are long and filamentous; it is ashy-blue above, the neck 
 tinged with deep chestnut; the plumes on the back of the 
 head, and the line down the neck, are reddish and white; 
 the throat is creamy, and the under parts are white. The 
 nidification is after the manner of its tribe, the eggs being 
 about 1. 78 XI. 35 
 
 THE REDDISH EGRET. 
 
 A most interesting bird of this class is the Reddish Egret 
 (Ardea rufa), the young of which, according to the prepon- 
 derance of authority, is white, and requires several years to 
 reach its mature color, while some individuals remain white 
 always. Some 30 inches in length, and 40 or more in 
 extent, the mature bird is grayish-blue, lighter beneath; 
 the head and neck being reddish-brown, tinged with lilac or 
 violet; iris, white; base of bill and naked space, light purple; 
 
THE GREEN HERON. 601 
 
 the tip of bill, black; legs blue, with black scales. In the 
 immature birds, the bill is similar to the above, and the legs 
 are greenish. The quite young lack the plumes, which in 
 the mature bird are most elegant. Even in the more ad- 
 vanced stages of the white plumage, the ornamental plumes 
 are so fine that some pronounce the white bird the most 
 elegant of all the Herons. The young was first called 
 Peal's Egret, and is still so called by some who believe it 
 to be a distinct species. The nests, built in community, 
 after the manner of the Herons, are made of sticks, and 
 placed on trees or bushes, and contain 2-4 bluish-green eggs, 
 elliptical, 1.45X1.95. Wintering in Florida, this species 
 ranges in summer from the Carolinas to Key West. 
 
 Very common on the interior lakes and rivers of Florida, 
 and in many parts of the Southern States, is the Little Blue 
 Heron (Ardea ccerulea}. Rather small, some 22 inches long 
 and 38 in extent, of a dark slaty-blue, with head and neck 
 tinged with violet, it is especially quick and agile in move- 
 ment, swift in flight, and very shy except on its breeding 
 grounds. 
 
 The 2-4 eggs are elliptical, or oval, and dark bluish- 
 green. The young are white, with tips of primaries and 
 crown tinged with blue. Passing through every stage of 
 blue mottling, it takes several years to reach the complete 
 blue livery; and from white to blue, through all intermedi- 
 ate stages, they may be seen breeding together, a white one 
 sometimes being mated with a mature one, as is also the 
 case with the Reddish Egret. 
 
 THE GREEN HERON. 
 
 In the first fascinating charms of my ornithological 
 studies I stumbled on the Green Heron (Ardea virescens}. 
 Throughout the Union, along inland streams and about 
 ponds and marshes, it is the most common and familiar of 
 
602 THE GREEN HERON. 
 
 its kind. Outraged by a most vulgar and distasteful name, 
 it is nevertheless an elegant bird. About 1.50 long and 
 24.00 in extent, the crested crown and upper parts, a glossy 
 dark green, sometimes iridescent with bronze; the lanceo- 
 late feathers of the back, glaucous; wing feathers, edged 
 with reddish or white; neck, chestnut-red; throat and stripe 
 down the front of the neck, white, spotted and streaked with 
 dusky; beneath, ashy-gray, streaked with white and tinged 
 with reddish; iris and feet, yellow; naked space in front of 
 the eye and bill, brown and yellow. The young are similar, 
 lacking the plumes, the upper parts being more tinged with 
 reddish, and the neck streaked. 
 
 Wandering through an orchard near a stream, early in 
 June, I was startled by a spatting, rushing sound, in the top 
 of an apple-tree near by. Failing to see the cause of the 
 noise, I climbed into the tree, and discovered what was 
 then to me a very strange-looking nest. Flat, and loosely 
 built of small, clean twigs, it contained five pale-green eggs, 
 some 1.15 X 1.55, and about fresh. Sitting down under a 
 tree near by, I soon saw the bird return to the nest; and 
 shooting it, found it to be the Green Heron. Never shall I 
 forget how odd it looked, flying about the trees with out- 
 stretched neck, its long legs dangling out behind. Often 
 since I have seen it gracefully stepping about shallow pools, 
 and among the grass along the banks of streams and 
 ponds, searching for small fishes, snails, tadpoles and 
 leeches. Again I have seen it light on the tops of bushes 
 in the swamps with all the ease and firmness of a regular 
 perching bird; and have heard its low-toned qnak, quak. 
 
 The summer habitat of this bird extends but little be- 
 yond the United States; and in the south, where it winters, 
 it often breeds in community. Many spend the winter 
 south of the Union, and return in large flocks in early 
 spring, migrating, for the most part, by night. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 GLEANINGS. 
 
 HAVING studied our birds in the order of the seasons, 
 and grouped them about certain localities, there remain 
 some which do not come readily into any of the previous 
 chapters. They are but few, and most of them are mere 
 outlying species of the field which I have chosen; and as I 
 wish to make this book a complete manual, within the reach 
 of every one, its necessary limits will restrict the account of 
 those which follow to great brevity. 
 
 Taking them in the order of their classification, we come 
 first to the famous Mockingbird (Mimus pollyglottus) of the 
 Southern States. Some 9.50 long, gray above, white below) 
 with breast and sides tinged with gray; wings and tail, dark- 
 brown, the former with bars and base of primaries, also the 
 tips and edgings of the wing feathers generally, white; the 
 latter with an outer feather on ea'ch side, and a mark on the 
 two following, white. The male has more white in the 
 primaries than the female. The marvelous capacity of this 
 species for imitation is truly a wonder in bird-life. Giving 
 the notes and songs of the Sparrow, the Goldfinch, the Blue 
 Jay and the Robin, in the same breath, it imitates almost 
 any sound within hearing, even voicing fairly the notes of 
 a piano. Indeed, it will so render the songs of other birds 
 as positively to excel them in musical power and sweetness, 
 so that the performance of the birds themselves will sound 
 
604 GLEANINGS. 
 
 tame and spiritless in comparison. Moreover, the Mocking- 
 bird's own song, thrown in here and there in the medley of 
 other songs, or sometimes given singly, would itself be 
 enough to distinguish the singer. Its nest is in a bush or 
 tree, and contains some 5 eggs, pale greenish-blue, spotted 
 and blotched with different shades of brown and lilac. Size, 
 .97X.73. It is resident in the Southern States in great 
 abundance, as far north as Virginia, and occasionally strag- 
 gles into New England. 
 
 Bewick's Wren (Troglodytes bewicki}, some 5.50 long, is 
 also a southern species, reaching as far north as Pennsyl- 
 vania. Having the general color and appearance of the 
 Common Wren, it is distinguishable by the ashy under parts 
 and the white markings in the tail, its manner of nesting 
 being similar to that of the former. 
 
 The Prothonotary Warbler (Protonotaria citrad) is a 
 southern species, most common in the regions about the 
 lower Mississippi, as Southern Illinois, and strays to New 
 England. About 5.50 long, the color is bright, golden-yel- 
 low, paler underneath, olivaceous on the back; rump, wings 
 and tail, bluish-ash. The nest is in holes in trees, and in 
 analogous situations; the 4-6 eggs, .68X.57, are white, 
 spotted with reddish and lilac. 
 
 The Worm-eating Warbler (Helmitherus vermivorus) is 
 found in the southern and middle parts of Eastern North 
 America, straying occasionally to New England. Though 
 not rare in Central New York, it does not appear to be 
 abundant anywhere. About 5.50 long, the general color 
 buffy, with back olive, and belly whitish, it may be recog- 
 nized by four black stripes on the head two from the bill 
 along the sides of the crown to the nape, one on each side 
 of the head through the eye. Nest, on the ground. Eggs, 
 some .73X.56, white, marked with reddish-brown. 
 
GLEANINGS. 605 
 
 Swainson's Warbler (Helmitherus swainsont) belongs to 
 the South Atlantic States, and is very rare. Some 6.00 long, 
 bill, long, stout and pointed, tail, short and slightly rounded, 
 it is brown above and buffy below, with a whitish eye-brow. 
 It has no distinct markings on the head. 
 
 Bachman's Warbler (Helminthophaga bachmani), 4.50 long, 
 yellowish-green above, ashy on crown; forehead and under 
 parts, bright yellow; mark across the crown, throat and 
 upper breast, black; two outer tail feathers marked with 
 white. The one obtained near Charleston, South Carolina, 
 and reported by Audubon, was the only one known, until 
 the case of nidification, discovered by the late Dr. Wilson, 
 of Georgia, some time between 1853 and 1865, and recently 
 reported by H. B. Baily. (See the Nuttall Bulletin, Jan., 
 1883.) 
 
 . The Yellow-throated Warbler (Dendrceca dominica), some 
 5.25 long and 8.25 in extent, is slaty-blue above; the 
 crown and sides of the head, black, the latter marked with 
 white; the throat and upper part of the breast, bright yel- 
 low. The bill is long and slightly curved, and the species 
 has much the habits of the Creepers. It is a southern 
 species, wintering in Florida and beyond, and migrating 
 into Virginia. 
 
 The Yellow Red-poll Warbler (Dendrceca palmaruni], 
 about 5.56 long and 7 77 in extent, is yellowish-olive 
 above, brownish on the wings and tail; the latter marked 
 with white; crown, chestnut; the breast and sides marked 
 with dark red. The female is a little less strongly colored 
 and marked. Wintering in the Southern States and in the 
 West Indies, it reaches New England already in April, 
 breeding from Northern New England and Nova Scotia to 
 Hudson's Bay. The nest is on the ground; the eggs, .67 X 
 .54, being dull white, marked with pale brown. 
 
606 GLEANINGS. 
 
 The Pine Warbler (Dendrccca pinus), some 5.50X8.85, is 
 olive-green above and yellow below; the wings and tail 
 dusky, the former barred, and the latter marked with white. 
 This is another early migrant, having about the same habi- 
 tat as the former. The nest is well up in a tree, the bluish- 
 white eggs, marked with brown, measuring about .70X-49. 
 
 The Connecticut Warbler (Oporornis agilis) is yellowish- 
 green above and yellow beneath; crown, sides of the head, 
 throat and upper breast, ashy. It is a rare species, breed- 
 ing from Maine northward, and wintering beyond our 
 limits. 
 
 The Kentucky Warbler (Oporornis formosus) is 5.35 long 
 and 8.84 in extent; yellowish-green above, and bright yel- 
 low beneath; crown and markings on the sides of the head 
 and neck, black. This is a rather southern species, most 
 common about the Mississippi, and breeding regularly as 
 far north as Southern Illinois and Indiana. The nest is near 
 the ground, the white eggs, marked with light-brown, meas- 
 uring .71 X-52. 
 
 Bachman's Finch (Peuccea cestivalis] some 5.75 long, re- 
 sembling the Yellow-winged Sparrow above, but with the 
 plain brownish-gray shades beneath, darker on the breast 
 and sides, and with light-grayish spots on the outer feathers 
 of the tail is a species of the Southern States. 
 
 The beautiful Lark Finch (Chondestes grammacd] about 
 6.75 long, something like the Fox Sparrow above and slightly 
 shaded with grayish-brown beneath, the head finely marked 
 with chestnut, black and white is a western species, now 
 found as far east as Michigan. 
 
 The Painted Finch, or Nonpareil (Cyanospiza a'n's), of the 
 South Atlantic or Gulf States, is only 5.50 long; has the 
 head and neck rich blue ; rump, eye-lids and under parts' 
 bright red; back and wing-coverts, yellowish-green; wings 
 
GLEANINGS. 607 
 
 and tail, purplish. The female is green above, and yellow- 
 ish beneath. This brilliant anomaly among Sparrows is very 
 shy, and is a sweet singer. 
 
 The Carolina Parroquet (Conurus carolinensis), 13 inches 
 long, with green body, yellow head and red face, once abund- 
 ant in the Southern States, is now becoming local and rare. 
 
 The Barn Owl (Strix flammea var. americana), recently 
 taken on Navy Island, in Niagara River, is about 17 inches 
 long, the face particularly round and expressive; the legs 
 long, slender and hairy ; general color, tawny, mottled or 
 marbled with dark brown, ash and white. It is a southerly 
 species. 
 
 That elegant little Hawk Owl (Surnia ulula var. hud- 
 sonia), 16 inches long, brown above, specked with white, 
 finely cross-barred with brown and whitish below, and 
 wings and tail with numerous white bars is a northern 
 species, occasionally found in Western New York in winter. 
 With small head and rather diurnal in its habits, it bears 
 quite a relation to the Hawks. (See portrait on frontispiece.) 
 
 The Everglade Kite (Rosthramus sociabilis], of Florida, 
 bears quite a resemblance to the Marsh Hawk. Its gen- 
 eral color, however, is much darker the male blackish 
 and a little smaller; its long, hooked bill is " extremely slen- 
 der /' the tail is emarginate; and the bare part of the tarsus 
 is shorter than the middle toe. By these points it may be 
 readily differentiated. The nest, of sticks, weeds, etc., and 
 lined with grasses, is placed in bushes, and contains 2 eggs, 
 1.50 X 1.65, bluish-white, heavily marked with varying shades 
 of brown. 
 
 The Mississippi Kite (Ictinia mississippiensis), found in the 
 South Atlantic and Gulf States, is some 13.70 long and 
 35.00 in extent; color, dark bluish-ash, lighter on the head, 
 neck and under parts, and becoming greenish-black on the 
 
608 GLEANINGS. 
 
 wings and tail; quills of the primaries and adjoining parts 
 of the webs, rich chestnut; the sexes alike. The nest is in 
 trees; the 2 or 3 eggs, some 1.51x1-31, are roundish, green- 
 ish-white and " thickly spotted and blotched with deep 
 chocolate-brown and black." (Maynard.) 
 
 The White-tailed or Black-shouldered Kite (Elanus leucu- 
 rus), of the " South Atlantic and Gulf States, California 
 and southward, chiefly coastwise," is white, with a gull-like 
 curtain of ashy-gray over the back and wings, excepting the 
 wing-coverts, which are black. Length, 15.50; extent, 39.50. 
 The nest, in low trees, contains 4-6 eggs, roundish, white, 
 heavily marked with several shades of brown. Not com- 
 mon in its easterly range. 
 
 The elegant Swallow-tailed Kite (Nauclerus furcatus] is 
 an abundant summer resident in the Southern, and rarely 
 reaches the Middle States. Some 22.00 long and 46.00 in 
 extent, its graceful forked tail is more than a foot in length. 
 The head, neck and under parts are white, with shafts of 
 the feathers of the head, neck and breast, black; the upper 
 parts, including the tail, black, glossed with green. Whether 
 skimming the surface, gliding over the bushes and tree-tops, 
 or circling high in air, the flight of this species is strikingly 
 beautiful. Stooping to capture a snake, he will carry it 
 high in air, and devour it at his leisure while on the wing. 
 The nest, in high tree-tops, and neatly made of sticks, weeds 
 and tillandsia, is lined with grasses, and contains 4-6 eggs, 
 1.85X1.49, oval, greenish-white, heavily marked with brown 
 of several shades. 
 
 The Jerfalcon (Falco sacer), 21-23 inches long, white, with 
 dark markings like the Snowy Owl, or dusky, cross-barred 
 with whitish, is an extremely arctic species of circumpolar 
 distribution, rarely reaching New England in winter. 
 
 The famous Wild Turkey (Meleagris gallopavo), very well 
 
GLEANINGS. 609 
 
 represented by the largest, darkest and most brilliant speci- 
 mens of our domesticated Turkey, was formerly of general 
 distribution in Eastern North America, but is rapidly disap- 
 pearing from the more cleared and cultivated parts. Our 
 more common and lighter domesticated specimens are the 
 descendants of the Mexican variety. 
 
 The Willow Ptarmigan (Lagopus albus), some 16 inches 
 long, white, with a black tail, in winter, and dark in summer, 
 is a bird of British America, occasionally reaching the 
 northernmost parts of the United States. The Rock Ptar- 
 migan (L. rupestris), similarly colored in winter and in 
 summer, except the black line through the eye, is a little 
 smaller, and much more boreal in habitat. 
 
 Wilson's Plover (^Egialitis wilsonia) some 7.50 long, ashy- 
 brown above; band on the crown and belt around the breast, 
 black (grayish-brown in the female and young); under 
 parts, and forehead, and eye-brows, white is a southern 
 species, reaching New Jersey in the north. 
 
 The Oyster Catcher (Hamatopus palliatus] has about the 
 same habitat as the former. About 17.50 long, with a long 
 wedge-shaped bill; the head and neck are blackish; the back 
 grayish-brown; under parts from the breast, rump, most of 
 the secondaries, tips of large wing-coverts and base of tail, 
 white ; bill and eye-lids, red or orange ; legs, flesh-color. 
 The nest is a hollow in the sand, with a little grass; the 2-4 
 eggs, 2.20X1.52, oval in form, are creamy or white, heavily 
 marked with brown. 
 
 The Avocet (Recurvirostra americand), 16.62 long, long- 
 legged body, white, with dark red head and neck, and back 
 and wings mostly black, is known by its long, slender, 
 pointed, decidedly upturned bill, its hind toe and small 
 webbed feet. This curiously formed species is numerous 
 west of the Mississippi in summer, breeding abundantly in 
 39 
 
610 
 
 GLEANINGS. 
 
 the northwest; but it is rare to the eastward. The 3 or 4 
 eggs, in a slight depression in the ground, some 2.00X1.32, 
 and pointed, are olivaceous-drab, thickly but not very 
 coarsely marked with dark brown. 
 
 The Stilt (Himantopus nigricollis], some 14.60 long, glossy 
 black, forehead, sides of the head and neck, rump and 
 under parts, white, is more or less common to the United 
 States in summer, but is not often found north of the Caro- 
 linas on the eastern coast. The nidification is similar to 
 that of the former; and the 3 or 4 eggs, some 1.65 X 1.20, are 
 very nearly the same in coloration. 
 
 The Phalaropes, three in number, and of small size, are 
 a sort of membranous or lobe-footed Sandpiper. Wilson's 
 Phalarope (Phalaropus wilsoni), some 9 inches long, light- 
 gray above, wings brown, the dark stripe through the eye 
 becoming purplish-chestnut on the sides of the neck, upper 
 
 THE HEAD OF WILSON'S AND THE FOOT OF THE NORTHERN PHALAROPE. 
 
 tail-coverts and under parts, white, is distributed in summer 
 from Kansas to the Saskatchawan, but is simply a rare mi- 
 grant in the east. It has been taken in Western New York 
 in the fall. It has the membrane on the toe straight-edged. 
 The northern Phalarope (P. hyperboreas] is about 7.50 long; 
 
GLEANINGS. 611 
 
 grayish-brown above, mixed with chestnut on the back ; ring 
 around the neck and stripes down the sides of it, chestnut; 
 tips of the wing-coverts and under parts, white, the sides 
 tinged with grayish or reddish; feet, lobed. It breeds in 
 Northern North America, migrating into the United States 
 in winter. The Red Phalarope (P. fulicarius), 7.75 long, 
 has the under parts purplish-chestnut of varying shades, 
 white in young; the upper parts variegated with black and 
 light red. Its feet are lobed, and the bill stout and flat 
 It winters in the south, spending the summer in the arctics. 
 
 The Stilt Sandpiper (Micropalama himantopus) is 8.50 long; 
 legs long, and the bill sometimes bent upward ; blackish, 
 marked with tawny and white, above; ear-patches, chestnut; 
 line from the bill to the eye, dusky; eye-brows, reddish; 
 upper tail-coverts, white, barred with dusky; under parts, 
 reddish, marked with black and whitish. It winters in the 
 West Indies, and passes through the United States, gener- 
 ally, to its breeding grounds in the far north. 
 
 Baird's Sandpiper (Tringa batrdt), about the color of the 
 Least Sandpiper, but an inch or two longer, is rare in 
 Eastern North America. 
 
 The White-rum ped, or Bonaparte's Sandpiper {Tringa 
 bonapartci}, about the size of the former, and about the color 
 of the Pectoral Sandpiper, except the black bill and feet 
 and the white rump, belongs to Eastern North America, and 
 is common on the Atlantic in the migrations. 
 
 The Red-backed Sandpiper (Tringa alpina var. americand), 
 8.50 long, with bill slightly bent down near the tip, is known 
 by its red back, mottled with white and black, and its black 
 patch on the belly, in summer; in winter, and in the young, 
 the upper parts are ashy-gray, the under parts white. It is 
 a common migrant on the coast and in the interior of East- 
 ern North America. 
 
612 GLEANINGS. 
 
 The Red-breasted Sandpiper, Gray-back or Robin Snipe 
 (Tringa conutus), some 10.50 long, has the usual markings 
 of the Sandpipers above, but i's known by its brownish-red 
 breast, fading into white on the flanks. It is an abundant 
 migrant on the Atlantic Coast. 
 
 The Buff -breasted Sandpiper (Tryngites rufescens), about 
 7.50 long, with a very short bill, is known by the delicate 
 pale reddish of the sides of the head, neck and under parts, 
 and by the fine cross-penciling of dusky or white on the 
 under side of the wing. It is generally distributed, but 
 not common in Eastern North America. 
 
 The Long-billed Curlew or Sickle-bill (Numenius longiros- 
 tris), the total length of which is about 2 feet, and colored 
 somewhat like the Marbled Godwit, may always be known 
 by its long, downward-curved bill, 6 or 8 inches in length. 
 It is common to Eastern North America, and breeds in the 
 northwest. 
 
 The Hudsonian Curlew (N. hudsonicus) , some 17 inches 
 long, color similar but paler than the former, ranks next in 
 size in this genus. It is chiefly a migrant in the United 
 States. 
 
 The Esquimaux Curlew (N. borealis), several inches smaller 
 than the former, similar in color, has the peculiar bill, short 
 (less than 3 inches) for the genus. As indicated by its 
 name, it is but a migrant. 
 
 The Ibises, somewhat resembling the Herons in form, are 
 birds of the south. The Wood Ibis (Tantalus loculator) is 
 about 4 feet long, the bill curved downward; the naked 
 head is wrinkled and bluish, legs blue, bill pale-greenish, 
 plumage white, except the tail and fore part of the wing, 
 which are black. The elegant Glossy Ibis (Ibis faldncllus) is 
 two feet long, " plumage rich, dark chestnut, changing to 
 glossy, dark green, with purplish reflections on the head, 
 
GLEANINGS. 613 
 
 wings and elsewhere." The White Ibis (Ibis alba), about 
 the size of the last, is pure white, the primaries tipped with 
 glossy black. The Scarlet Ibis (Ibis rubra), rich scarlet, the 
 outer primaries tipped with black, is merely accidental in the 
 Southern States. 
 
 Closely related to the above group, and of the same size 
 and habitat, is the Roseate Spoonbill (Platalea ajajd}. " In 
 full plumage, rosy-red, whitening on neck; lesser wing- 
 coverts, tail-coverts and lower throat, crimson; tail, brown- 
 ish-yellow; leg, pale carmine; bare head, yellowish-green, 
 with a dark stripe; bill mostly grayish-blue." (Coues.) 
 
 The White or Whooping Crane (Grus americanus), about 
 50 inches long, resembling the Herons in form,, with part of 
 the head nearly bare and bill very stout, plumage white, 
 except the fore part of the wings, which is black is common 
 in the extreme south in winter, and breeds in the northwest. 
 The Brown or Sandhill Crane (Grits canadensis), a little 
 smaller than the former, but of similar form and habitat, is 
 gray, with fore part of the wings black. 
 
 The Courlan or Crying-bird (Aramus scolopalceus], some 
 26 inches long, brown, marked with white, and resembling 
 the Rails, is found in Florida. 
 
 The Flamingo (Phcenicopterus ruber), four feet long, with 
 very long neck and legs, and a somewhat hook-shaped bill, 
 scarlet, with fore part of the wings black, is scarcely more 
 than a straggler into Florida. 
 
 The White-fronted Goose (Anser albifrons), about 27 
 inches long; back dark gray, the feathers edged with lighter 
 or with brownish; under parts light-gray, blotched with 
 black; bill pale lake; forehead, pure white is for the most 
 part a western species, but sparingly found to the eastward. 
 
 The Snow Goose (A. hyperboreas\ some 30 inches long, a 
 dull white, generally, washed with reddish about the head, 
 
614 GLEANINGS. 
 
 the young lead-color above, is extremely boreal, breeding 
 about the straits of Hudson's Bay, and is more common in 
 the west than in the east in its southern migrations. 
 
 The Blue Goose (A. ccerulescens), nearly the size of the 
 former, and about the same form, plumage ashy-blue, 
 varied with brown, head, tail-coverts and under parts, 
 white should be regarded as a distinct species, and not 
 merely the young of the former. This has been placed be- 
 yond a doubt by the late researches of Mr. Wm. Dutcher; 
 and Mr. Fortiscue, of Hudson's Bay, says that the two 
 species occupy distinct breeding habitats in the north. 
 
 The Brant Goose (Branta bernicla) is some 2 feet long, 
 head and neck black to the breast, a patch of white streaks 
 on the middle of the neck, upper tail-coverts, white, brown- 
 ish-gray above, and lighter underneath, becoming white 
 toward the under tail-coverts. It is an arctic species, visit- 
 ing the Atlantic to the Southern States in winter. There is 
 a darker variety called the Black Brant, rare on the Atlantic, 
 but abundant on the Pacific. 
 
 The Booby Gannet (Sula fiber), a little smaller than the 
 Common Gannet, brown, white from the neck down, bill 
 and feet yellow, belongs to the South Atlantic and Gulf 
 States. 
 
 The White Pelican (Pelecanus trachyrhynchns), about 5 feet 
 long and 8 or 9 feet in expanse, is white; back of the head 
 and breast, yellow ; fore part of the wings, black; bill, sack 
 and feet, yellow. Wintering in the Southern States, and 
 breeding in the northwest, it is but accidental on the North 
 and Middle Atlantic. The Brown Pelican (P.fuscus) is 
 strictly maritime, found on the South Atlantic and Gulf 
 Coasts, and in California. The most marked feature of 
 these peculiar birds is the large sack under the chin, easily 
 holding several quarts, and used as a sort of dip-net for 
 
GLEANINGS. 615 
 
 catching prey. TKc nest of the Pelicans is generally ar- 
 ranged on the ground near the water, and they lay large, 
 white eggs. 
 
 The Darter or Snake-bird (Plotus anhinga), about 3 feet 
 long, is " glossy greenish-black ; a broad, gray wing-band 
 formed by most of the coverts; lower neck behind and 
 scapulars speckled with grayish-white; tertiaries striped 
 with silvery-ash; tail, pale-tipped; filamentous feathers of 
 neck, purplish-ash; the female, with parts of the head, neck 
 and back, brown, the throat and breast, fawn-color, sharply 
 margined with rich brown." (Coues.) It is an odd-shaped 
 bird, and belongs to the Southern States. 
 
 Frigate or Man-of-War Bird (Tachypetes aquilus), some 
 42 inches long and 8 feet in extent, is a curious shaped bird, 
 with long, slender, hooked bill, and pouch under the chin; 
 immense spread of wings and long forked tail; very short 
 legs and small webbed feet. The male is brownish-black, 
 with more or less iridescence, and lighter underneath; the 
 female, white on the neck and breast. This grand bird, of 
 marvelous powers of flight, gregarious, especially in the 
 breeding season, when it nests in bushes by the water, lay- 
 ing 2 or 3 greenish-white eggs, is found in the South Atlan- 
 tic and Gulf States, and in the tropics. 
 
 The Yellow-billed Tropic Bird (Phaeton flavirostris), about 
 the size of a small Gull, satiny-white, rose-tinted in matur- 
 ity; basal half of many of the shafts and fine markings in 
 many of the feathers, black; bill, orange or yellow; the 
 small webbed feet, black. A young male of this species, 
 rare even on the Gulf Coast, was brought to me alive in 
 Orleans Co., in September, 1876. It was picked up in a 
 state of exhaustion in a clover field, after a heavy storm 
 from the southwest. 
 
 The Skua Gulls or Jaegers, genus Stercorarius, are large, 
 
616 GLEANINGS. 
 
 rapacious Gulls of the northern seas; hunters, as the name 
 Jaeger implies, with hawk-like bills; long, pointed wings; 
 dark bodies, lighter underneath; the two central feathers 
 finally projecting 4-8 inches beyond the otherwise square 
 tail. They breed after the manner of the Gulls, in high 
 northern regions, wandering south in winter to the New 
 England or Middle States. Those are the Kua (S. skua), 
 the Pomarine Jaeger (S. pomatorhinus), Richardson's Jaeger 
 (S. parasiticus), or the Long-tailed Jaeger (S. buffoni). They 
 vary in length, from 2 feet downward to several inches less. 
 With great powers of flight, they chase other sea-birds till 
 they either drop or disgorge their prey, and thus procure a 
 rather disreputable livelihood. 
 
 The Ivory Gull (Larus eburneus), about 18 inches long and 
 pure white in maturity, is an extremely arctic species, rarely 
 reaching the United States in winter. 
 
 The Fork-tailed Gull (Xema sabinei), some 13.50 long, has 
 the common coloring of the Gulls, except that the head is 
 slate-colored, and there is a black color around the neck, 
 and a black edge from the shoulder to the tip of the wing. 
 It is a very northerly species, rarely reaching New York in 
 winter. 
 
 The Gull-billed Tern (Sterna anglica], about 13.50 long, 
 the mantle extending over the rump and tail, may be known 
 by its short, thick, black bill. It is found from New Jersey 
 southward on the Atlantic. 
 
 The Caspian Tern (Sterna caspid], the common color of 
 the Terns, the tail less forked, known by its great size 
 some 20 inches in length is an arctic species, but has re- 
 cently been found breeding off the coast of Virginia. It 
 winters from Massachusetts southward. 
 
 The Royal Tern (Sterna rigid), some 19 inches long, the 
 rich, silvery mantle extending over the tail, is an abundant 
 
GLEANINGS. 617 
 
 southern species, sometimes reaching New Jersey. The 2 
 or 3 eggs, 2.72x1-72, are white or t}uffy, spotted and 
 blotched with dark brown and a lighter shade. 
 
 The Sandwich Tern (Sterna cantiaca], some 15.50 long, 
 known by its pale, silvery mantle, and its black bill tipped 
 with yellow, is also a southern species. 
 
 The Least Tern {Sterna superciliaris), only 8 or 9 inches 
 long, with white forehead, and light pearly mantle extend- 
 ing over the tail, reaches Massachusetts, breeding generally 
 southward on the Atlantic. 
 
 The Sooty Tern {Sterna fultginosa), some 16 inches 
 long, is brownish-black; under parts, outer web of out- 
 side tail-feathers and forehead, white. It is abundant in 
 Florida. 
 
 The Noddy Tern (Anous stolidus\ about 16 inches long, 
 dark colored, darker on the wings and tail, lighter on the 
 head and neck, and always noticeable by means of its white 
 crown, is also an abundant southern species. 
 
 Our Wild Pigeon (Ectopistes migrator -ins] , some 16 inches 
 long, is dull blue above, with olivaceous on the back; dull 
 red below, whitening toward the under tail-coverts; neck 
 with a fine golden and ruby iridescence; black spots in the 
 wing-coverts; tail bluish-black in the middle and white or 
 ashy outside; the female more olivaceous above, and dull 
 grayish beneath. Once astonishingly abundant, fairly 
 darkening the air in its migrations, it is now much thinned 
 out in Eastern North America. 
 
 The Pinnated Grouse, or Prairie Hen (Cupidonia cupido], is 
 19 inches long and 27 in extent; upper parts transversely 
 marked with black and reddish-brown; under parts with 
 broad, distinct bars of dark brown and white; two little 
 wings on the sides of the neck, under which are two round, 
 inflated sacks. Female lighter, and without the neck-wings 
 
618 GLEANINGS. 
 
 and inflated sacks. It is a bird of our western prairies,, 
 especially about the upper Mississippi. A few are still found 
 on Martha's Vineyard and in Northwestern Ohio. 
 
 The Semipalmated, or Ring Plover (.&gialitis wilsonius\ 
 some 7 inches long, is ashy-brown above, with dark oliv- 
 aceous shade; white beneath; broad bar on the forehead 
 and another on the breast, black, the latter grayish brown 
 in the young; eye-lids bright orange; the short, yellow bill 
 tipped with black; the yellowish feet noticeably semipal- 
 mate. It is an abundant migrant on Niagara River, as also 
 on the New England Coast. 
 
 The last three species were overlooked in their proper 
 connection. 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 The Curlew Sandpiper (Tringa subarquatd), some 8.50 long and 15.50 
 in extent, dark brown above, becoming grayish on the rump and wings, 
 the feathers generally edged with yellowish-red; the white tail-coverts 
 above crossed with brown bars; secondaries, with white tips; underparts, 
 yellowish-red, is a European species, not infrequently found on the 
 Atlantic coast, but not known to breed on this continent. (This species 
 was overlooked in the work.) 
 
 Page 98, line 18, the comma should be inserted after the word above 
 instead of after the word feathers. 
 
 Page 105, line 2 from bottom, and all other similar instances, the single 
 figures mean inches, as indicated generally in the work by the decimal 
 points, or by the word inches. 
 
 Page 120, line 9, for clearing read cleaving. 
 
 Page 129, line 4 from bottom, for light read twilight. 
 
 Page 136, line 8, for crown read brown. 
 
 Page 148, line 12, the word the should be inserted before the word cliff. 
 
 Page 310, line 18, for isles read aisles. 
 
 Page 433, line 6 from bottom, for nesting read resting. 
 
 Page 574, line 18, for trampled read trample. 
 
" I consider it a Magazine which every true ornithologist, be he ' full- 
 blooded,' or only an amateur, should have at hand; and I will endeavor 
 to extend its circulation among those of my acquaintances interested in 
 the science." 
 
 CHAS B. WILSON, Colby University, Waterville, Maine. 
 
 THE ORNITHOLOGIST AND OOLOGIST. 
 
 VOL. IX, NO. i, JAN., 1884. 
 Commenced a New Series, Enlarged to Twelve Pages of 
 
 ORIGINAL MATTER. 
 
 NOTICES FROM THE PRESS. 
 
 The ORNITHOLOGIST AND OOLOGIST is the title of a magazine published 
 "by Frank B. Webster, at Pawtucket, R. I., which will be of interest to 
 those interested in ornithology. Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 The cover is very characteristic as well as artistic, the typographical 
 execution good, and the matter of decided value to all students of natural 
 history, especially bird lovers. Worcester Daily Spy. 
 
 All interested in birds and birds' eggs, will enjoy this magazine. The 
 Journal, Jacksonville, III. 
 
 A specimen number was issued about December 20, 1883, and contains 
 the usual number of good articles and notes. There is, doubtless, room 
 and need for a distinctively amateur journal like this, and we cordially 
 wish it success. The Auk, January, 1884. 
 
 ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION, Commencing with Jan. No., $1 PER ANNUM. 
 
 . SPECIMEN COPIES, TEN CENTS. 
 
 FRANK B, WEBSTER, Publisher, Pawtucket, R, I, 
 
 Subscriptions at the rate of Five Shillings per annum, will be received by 
 Alfred Cliff, 35 Osborne Road, Forest Gate, London, England. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Accentor, Golden-crowned 312 
 
 New York 228 
 
 Auk, Great 516 
 
 41 Razor-billed 516 
 
 Avocet 609 
 
 Bittern... ...394 
 
 " Least 397 
 
 Blackbird, Cow 160 
 
 44 Crow 112 
 
 " Red-winged 108 
 
 Black Martin 361 
 
 Black Skimmer 553 
 
 Bluebill 186 
 
 Bluebird 101 
 
 Bobolink 288 
 
 Brown Creeper 87 
 
 Bunting, Snow -. 28 
 
 44 Black-throated 584 
 
 Towhee 576 
 
 Buzzard, Turkey 590 
 
 Black 593 
 
 Catbird 225 
 
 Cedar Bird 115 
 
 Chat, Yellow-breasted 582 
 
 Chewink 576 
 
 Chickadee 17 
 
 Chimney Swift 388 
 
 Chuck-will's-widow 387 
 
 Coot 405 
 
 Cormorant, Common 517 
 
 " Double-crested 520 
 
 " Florida 520 
 
 Courlan 613 
 
 Crane, Whooping 613 
 
 " Sandhill 613 
 
 Creeper, Brown 87 
 
 Crossbill, Common 569 
 
 14 White-winged 569 
 
 Crow 60 
 
 44 Fish 548 
 
 Cuckoo, Black-billed 384 
 
 14 Yellow-billed 382 
 
 Curlew, Esquimaux 612 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Curlew, Hudsonian 612 
 
 Long-billed 612 
 
 Dabchick 172 
 
 Darter 615 
 
 Diver, Black-throated 306 
 
 44 Red-throated 306 
 
 Dove, Mourning 166 
 
 " White-headed 169 
 
 " Zenaida : 169 
 
 " Ground 169 
 
 " Key West 169 
 
 Dovekie 517 
 
 Duck, Barrow's Golden-eye 463 
 
 44 Buffle-headed 188 
 
 Canvas-back 469 
 
 44 Dusky 127 
 
 " Eider. 481 
 
 " Gadwall or Gray 473 
 
 " Golden-eye 462 
 
 " Harlequin 486 
 
 " King 485 
 
 41 Labrador 486 
 
 " Long-tailed 464 
 
 " Old-Wife 464 
 
 " Pintail 180 
 
 Red-headed 467 
 
 44 Ring-necked 193 
 
 " Ruddy 471 
 
 " Scaup 186 
 
 " Shoveller ..474 
 
 " Summer 144 
 
 " Surf 478 
 
 " Velvet 480 
 
 ( " Wood 144 
 
 Eagle, White-headed ... ... 453 
 
 " Golden 587 
 
 Egret, Great White 597 
 
 Little White ...599 
 
 Louisiana 
 Reddish . 
 
 Finch, Grass 155 
 
 " Lark.., ...606 
 
622 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Finch, Purple 136 
 
 " Bachman's 606 
 
 " Painted 606 
 
 Flamingo 618 
 
 Flycatcher. Great-crested 376 
 
 Least 345 
 
 Olive-sided 339 
 
 Small Green-crested 340 
 
 Traill's 347 
 
 Yellow-bellied 346 
 
 Frigate 615 
 
 Gallinule, Common 492 
 
 Purple 404 
 
 Gannet 521 
 
 " Booby 614 
 
 Gnat-catcher, Blue-gray 581 
 
 Godwit, Great Marbled 554 
 
 " Hudsonian 554 
 
 Goldfinch 44 
 
 Goosander. 408 
 
 Goose, Blue 614 
 
 " Brant 614 
 
 " Canada 119 
 
 44 Snow 613 
 
 " White-fronted 613 
 
 Goshawk 507 
 
 Grakle, Rusty . 321 
 
 Purple 112 
 
 44 Bronzed 115 
 
 " Boat-tailed 115 
 
 Grebe., Crested 179 
 
 " Horned 177 
 
 " Red-necked 179 
 
 Grosbeak, Blue 267 
 
 " Evening 267 
 
 Cardinal 573 
 
 Rose-breasted 264 
 
 Pine 20 
 
 Grouse, Canada 499 
 
 " Pinnated 617 
 
 " Ruffed 48 
 
 Guillemot, Black 513 
 
 44 Common '. 514 
 
 44 Thick-billed 515 
 
 Gull, Black-backed 543 
 
 Bonaparte 476 
 
 Fork-tailed 616 
 
 Glaucous 543 
 
 Herring 423 
 
 Ivory 616 
 
 Kittiwake 544 
 
 Laughing 535 
 
 Ring-billed 427 
 
 Skua 615 
 
 White-winged 544 
 
 Gyrfalcon 608 
 
 Haglet or Hagdon 541 
 
 Hawk, Broad-winged 99 
 
 " Cooper's 348 
 
 " Duck 147 
 
 ' Harlan's .. 97 
 
 " Marsh 439 
 
 " Night, 383 
 
 44 Pigeon 448 
 
 44 Red-shouldered 98 
 
 Red-tailed 91 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Hawk, Rough-legged 196 
 
 Sharp-shinned 352 
 
 Sparrow 204 
 
 Swainson's 98 
 
 Heron, Florida 453 
 
 Great Blue 450 
 
 44 Great White 597 
 
 " Green 601 
 
 Little Blue 601 
 
 Night 595 
 
 Yellow-crowned Night 597 
 
 Hummingbird 363 
 
 Ibis, Glossy 612 
 
 " Scarlet 613 
 
 " White 013 
 
 " Wood 612 
 
 Indigo Bird . . 374 
 
 ..616 
 ..61(5 
 ..616 
 .. 73 
 
 Jaeger, Arctic 
 
 Parasitic. 
 
 44 Pomarine 
 
 Jay, Blue 
 
 ' Canada 493 
 
 " Florida 77 
 
 Jerfalcon 608 
 
 Killdeer ...562 
 
 Kingbird 315 
 
 " Gray 31T 
 
 Kingfisher ; 437 
 
 Kinglet, Golden-crowned 500 
 
 " Ruby-crowned 502 
 
 Kite, Black-shouldered 008 
 
 ' Everglade C07 
 
 44 Mississippi 607 
 
 " Swallow-tailed 608 
 
 Lark, Meadow 
 
 " Horned 
 
 Linnet, Pine 
 
 Logcock 
 
 Longspur, Lapland 
 
 Loon . . . 
 
 84 
 
 10 
 
 41 
 
 504 
 
 
 
 ...302 
 
 Mallard 124 
 
 Man-of-War Bird 515 
 
 Martin, Black or Purple 361 
 
 Merganser, Hooded 412 
 
 " Red-breasted. 190 
 
 Mockingbird 604 
 
 Night Hawk 883 
 
 Noddy 515 
 
 Nonpareil ' 600 
 
 Nuthatch, Brown-headed 13 
 
 " Red-bellied 73 
 
 White-breasted 70 
 
 Oriole, Baltimore 240 
 
 " Orchard 245 
 
 Osprey 545 
 
 Oyster Catcher 609 
 
 Oven-bird 312 
 
 Owl, Acadian 39 
 
 44 Barn 607 
 
 " Barred 510 
 
 44 Great Gray 509 
 
INDEX. 
 
 623 
 
 Owl, Great Horned 89 
 
 Hawk 607 
 
 Long-eared 35 
 
 Richardson's 510 
 
 Screech 36 
 
 Short-eared 33 
 
 Snowy 66 
 
 Parroquet 607 
 
 Partridge 48 
 
 Pelican, Brown 614 
 
 White 614 
 
 Petrel, Fulmar. 542 
 
 <k Leach's 539 
 
 " Stormy 541 
 
 " Wilson's 541 
 
 Pewee, Least 345 
 
 " Wood 336 
 
 Phalarope, Northern 610 
 
 " Red 611 
 
 " Wilson's 610 
 
 Phoebe 140 
 
 Pigeon 616 
 
 Plover, Black-bellied 559 
 
 Golden 560 
 
 " Field or Grass 564 
 
 " Piping 524 
 
 " Ring-neck 618 
 
 " Ruddy 461 
 
 " Wilson's 609 
 
 Ptarmigan, Rock 609 
 
 Willow 609 
 
 Puffin 515 
 
 44 Tufted... ...516 
 
 Quail 
 
 . 53 
 
 Rail, Black 443 
 
 Clapper 401 
 
 Carolina 441 
 
 King 400 
 
 Virginia ;399 
 
 Yellow 443 
 
 Raven 496 
 
 Redbird, Summer 263 
 
 Redpoll, Lesser 15 
 
 Mealy 17 
 
 Restart 372 
 
 Robin 102 
 
 Saddleback 543 
 
 Sanderling 461 
 
 Sandpiper, Baird's 611 
 
 Bartram's 564 
 
 Bonaparte's 611 
 
 Buff-breasted 612 
 
 Curlew 623 
 
 Least 555 
 
 Pectoral , . .460 
 
 Purple 528 
 
 Red-backed 611 
 
 Red-breasted 612 
 
 Semipalmated 555 
 
 Solitary 435 
 
 Spotted - 433 
 
 Stilt 611 
 
 ...479 
 
 Scoter. 
 Shag 
 
 ..517 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Shearwater 541 
 
 Sooty 542 
 
 Shore Lark 10 
 
 Shrike, Loggerhead 170 
 
 44 Northern 57 
 
 44 White-rumped 169 
 
 Sicklebill 612 
 
 Skimmer, Black 553 
 
 Snakebird 615 
 
 Snipe, Red-breasted 460 
 
 44 Wilson's 212 
 
 Snowbird 81 
 
 Sparrow, Bay-winged 155 "* 
 
 44 Chipping 153 
 
 Field 379 
 
 44 Fox-colored 579 
 
 Henslow's 294 
 
 Ipswich 199 
 
 Lincoln's 136 
 
 Savanna 198 
 
 Sea-side 549 
 
 Sharp-tailed 550 
 
 Song....'. 132 
 
 Swamp 199 
 
 Tree 43 
 
 White-crowned 317 
 
 White-throated 319 
 
 Yellow-winged 293 
 
 Spoonbill, Roseate .' 613 
 
 Stilt 610 
 
 Swallow, Bank 436 
 
 Barn 194 
 
 Eave 357 
 
 44 Rough-winged 436 
 
 44 White-bellied 157 
 
 Swan, American 295 
 
 44 Trumpeter 302 
 
 Swift, Chimney 388 
 
 Tanager, Scarlet 259 
 
 Teal, Blue-winged 208 
 
 14 Green-winged 211 
 
 Tern, Arctic 531 
 
 Black 552 
 
 Caspian 535, 616 
 
 Common 531 
 
 Forster's 533 
 
 Gull-billed 616 
 
 Least 617 
 
 Noddy 617 
 
 Royal 616 
 
 Roseate 532 
 
 Sandwich 617 
 
 Sooty 617 
 
 Thistlebird 44 
 
 Thrasher 257 
 
 Thrush, Bicknell's 511 
 
 Brown 257 
 
 44 Golden-crowned 312 
 
 Gray-cheeked 423 
 
 44 Hermit 491 
 
 44 Large-billed Water 230 
 
 44 Olive-backed 421 
 
 Water 228 
 
 " Wilson's 309 
 
 Wood S07 
 
 Titlark, Brown 461 
 
 Titmouse, Black-capped 17 
 
624 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Titmouse, Carolina 20 
 
 Hudson'sBay 20 
 
 Tufted 575 
 
 Tropic Bird 615 
 
 Turkey 608 
 
 Turnstone 557 
 
 Veery 309 
 
 Vireo, Philadelphia 248 
 
 Red-eyed 250 
 
 Solitary 253 
 
 Warbling 246 
 
 White-eyed 254 
 
 Yellow-throated 249 
 
 Vulture. Turkey 590 
 
 " Black 593 
 
 Warbler, Audubon's 203 
 
 44 Bachman's 605 
 
 " Bay-Breasted 326 
 
 44 Black-and-White Creeping... 275 
 
 Black-and- Yellow .' 328 
 
 44 Blackburnian 322 
 
 Black-poll 489 
 
 44 Black-throated Blue 330 
 
 44 Black-throated Green 271 
 
 44 Blue winged Yellow 417 
 
 44 Blue Yellow-backed 314 
 
 44 Canada 279 
 
 Cape May 334 
 
 Chestnut-sided 332 
 
 " Ccerulean 325 
 
 44 Connecticut 606 
 
 44 Golden-winged 368 
 
 44 Hooded 342 
 
 44 Kentcky 606 
 
 Kirtland's 593 
 
 Maryland Yellow-throated .... 286 
 
 44 Mourning .371 
 
 " Nashville 413 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Warbler, Orange-crowned 416 
 
 Pine 606 
 
 Prairie 551 
 
 Prothonotary 004 
 
 Swainson's 605 
 
 Tennessee 416 
 
 White-throated 370 
 
 Wilson's Black-cap 344 
 
 Worm-eating 604 
 
 Yellow 223 
 
 Yellow Red-poll 605 
 
 Yellow-rumped 201 
 
 Yellow-throated 605 
 
 Wax-wing 40 
 
 Whippoorwill. . . 387 
 
 Whistler 462 
 
 Widgeon 180 
 
 Willet 526 
 
 Woodcock 444 
 
 Woodpecker, Black-backed Three-toed.507 
 
 Downy 22 
 
 Golden- Winged 77 
 
 Hairy 32 
 
 Ivory-billed 505 
 
 Pileated 504 
 
 Red-bellied 104 
 
 Red-headed 86 
 
 White-backed Three-toed. 506 
 
 Yellow-bellied 506 
 
 Wren, Bewick's 604 
 
 Carolina 551 
 
 Common 354 
 
 Long-billed Marsh 392 
 
 Short-billed Marsh 284 
 
 Winter 281 
 
 Yellowbird 44 
 
 Yellow-shanks, Large 216 
 
 Small... ...219 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 WED 
 
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 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY