The construction of a home is the result of the united labors of both

birds, each collecting and adjusting its own materials. The time devoted

thereto varies from six to seven days, and is regulated by the industry

of the builders and the _condition_ of the weather. For this purpose

a bifurcated branch is first chosen. To this is attached, by means of

cobwebs, strips of bark, threads of moss, and the silk of caterpillars,

a delicate framework. This is mainly composed of bark, decayed

pine-wood, vegetable fibres, etc., held together by silk, and, possibly,

in a slight degree, by a gummy secretion supplied by the builders.

This structure is long, tenuous, open and narrow, presents a somewhat

collapsed appearance, and resembles, though remotely, the perfect

fabric. But it lacks shape and symmetry. To give it these essentials,

the birds construct an inner nest out of bits of paper, fragments of

hornets' nests, and strips of oak bark, which are so arranged as to

protrude through the interstices of the outer. It is now the duty of the

female, by a few bodily evolutions, to reduce the whole to form. This

accomplished, the labor of building is resumed, and a cozy lining,

composed of narrow strips of the inner bark of the wild grape-vine,

is added. Often white and black horse-hairs take the place of these

articles. That this species builds after the fashion described, is

proved by actual observation, and also by the finding of abandoned nests

which showed the outer, but not the inner arrangement.

The nest represented in the Plate came from Atlantic Co., N. J. It was

built between a forked branch of the common laurel. Externally, it is

composed of decayed wood, inner bark of plants, silk of caterpillars,

fragments of hornets' nests, cocoons of spiders, etc. Internally, there

is a thick lining of the inner bark of the wild grape-vine. The external

diameter is three and a half inches; internal, two and a half inches;

outside depth, two and a quarter, and inside, one and three-fourths

inches. A comparison with specimens from Texas, Michigan, Pennsylvania

and Massachusetts, shows marked similarities in structure and details of

composition.

In the collection of the Smithsonian Institution there is to be seen a

nest which was obtained by Mr. Kennicott at the Cumberland House, on

the Saskatchewan River. It is pensile, like all others, but is almost

exclusively built of pine-needles--a dry and hard material, difficult

of management in the construction of such a domicile. With these are

intermingled flax-like vegetable fibres, fine strips of bark, and

fragments of moss. Within is placed an inner nest composed of strips of

bark, pine leaves and fine, dry grasses. The external fabric is rather

loosely put together--an unusual feature--but the inner portion, in

the compactness and strength with which it was made, is in striking

contrast.

After the nest is finished, the female, on the ensuing day, and

occasionally not until the expiration of the third or fourth, commences

to lay her eggs, at the rate of one daily, until the entire complement

of three or four has been laid. Incubation follows closely, usually on

the day succeeding the last deposit, and continues for nearly eleven

days. This is not the exclusive task of the female, as the male

sometimes assists her. When the latter is not thus occupied, it is

seldom that he may be found in the vicinity, being absent either

designedly, or in search of food. Should the nest be approached at this

time, the female sits close, and seems to manifest neither timidity nor

alarm. We have often surprised her on the nest, and reached out our

hand to take her, when she would watch our actions very narrowly, as if

seeking to study our motives, but remaining perfectly motionless all the

while. A nearer approach was invariably followed by her sudden departure

therefrom. The bird would not wholly desert the nest, but demurely

station herself upon an adjoining twig, in order to watch our actions.

But with the male it is quite different.

Any attempt at disturbance or pillage is resented with spirit and

courage, especially when the nest contains young birds.

The home of this Vireo is often chosen by the Cowbird as a place of

deposit for her eggs. So singularly devoted to their alien guests do

these foster-parents become, that they nurture them very tenderly, even

to the neglect of their own offspring. A case is mentioned where three

of these parasitic eggs had been deposited in the nest of the Vireo

before any of her own. Without laying any, the female Vireo proceeded

to set upon and hatch the intruders. Another case is cited where two

Cowbird's eggs were laid alongside of two of the Vireo's. The latter

immediately stopped laying and proceeded to incubate. In each of these

cases it is evident that the female Vireo forewent her own maternal

instincts, and at once conformed to the new situation.

The young are objects of special parental interest. From the time

they are hatched, until the period of their leaving the nest to earn a

livelihood, they are watched over, and fed with the daintiest fare which

Nature affords. Caterpillars, diptera, plant-lice, small spiders and

berries, constitute their earliest diet; but as they increase in size

and strength, other articles of a coarser nature are added. At the age

of twelve days they vacate the nest, but continue under the watchful

eyes of their parents a week longer, when they are able to forage for

themselves.

The anxieties of brood-raising being over, both young and old, the

former in imitation of their parents, seek the tall tree-tops and glean

in company. Later, they come down from these lofty retreats to delve

among the grasses. Finally, as if disdaining too near an approach

to earth, they quickly forsake such groveling pursuits, and seek the

viburnum and dogwood bushes, where they find many a rich repast. Here

they remain until the last of September, or the beginning of October,

when cold weather and scarcity of food compel them to hunt warmer

climes.

The eggs of this Vireo vary considerably in size, according to locality;

the further south the smaller they are found. Specimens from Northern

Alabama have an average measurement of .77 of an inch by .52; from Nova

Scotia, .94 by .65; from Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, intermediate

localities, .82 by .56, and .83 by 62. The ground-color of all is a

clear crystal-white, and they are marked with spots and fine dots of

red-brown, which are chiefly found at the larger extremity. But a single

brood is raised, although nests with eggs have been taken early in July,

which must be attributed to birds whom accident or design had prevented

from obeying their natural instincts earlier.

[Illustration: 104]

Plate XI.--TRINGOIDES MACULARIUS, Gray.--Spotted Sandpiper.

|The Spotted Sandpiper has an extended and varied distribution

throughout North America. Unlike most of its allies, it breeds with

equal readiness wherever found, and is one of the best known and most

abundant of all its tribe.

From its winter-quarters in the Southern States, and also in the West

Indies and Central and South America, to Brazil, it takes up the line

of migration about the tenth of April, and gradually spreads itself over

nearly the whole country as far north as Labrador and Fort Yukon.

According to Mr. Trippe, it is the only species of its family that

resorts to the mountains of Colorado. Here, it arrives early in May, and

departs in September. All the larger streams, to an altitude of 8,000 or

9,000 feet, are visited, and, even, in some instances, the shores of the

lakes near the timber line.

On their first arrival, the banks of large rivers are frequented; but as

the season advances, many trace their way into the interior, along

the courses of our creeks and rivulets. Their sole object now is the

acquirement of food. For this purpose, a life of solitude is preferable

to any other. Although three or four individuals may frequently be

discovered together upon the same feeding-grounds, yet careful and

repeated observations have convinced us that this occurrence is merely

accidental, and not dictated by a desire for company. At such times, the

birds become so deeply absorbed in the business before them, that the

approach of human beings is unobserved, and the actors are only aroused

from the stolidity and indifference into which they have fallen, by

the crackling of a dead branch, or the dislodgment of a pebble from its

mooring. Conscious of impending danger, but never stopping to inquire

into the cause of the alarm, they seek safety in instant flight, and

repair to other scenes, at no great distance from the former, whore

they think to pursue their gastronomic occupation without fear of being

molested.

Such are the colors of this species, that the utmost harmony obtains

between them and the hues of surrounding objects. The keen eye of

the practised sportsman is often eluded thereby. Were it not for its

peculiar habit of wagging the tail, it would be a very difficult bird

to locate, especially when in a standing attitude; for whether thus

occupied, or running on the ground, or along the rails of a fence, or in

the water, this motion seems continual. Even the young, as soon as they

are released from the shell, are taught by instinct the same remarkable

movement.

Usually about the third week from the time of their first appearance,

but sometimes later, the sexes, grown corpulent from good feeding,

discard in a measure the "joys of the table," and seek each other's

society. From stilly bank of inland pond or stream, or where old Neptune

lashes in frenzied mood his solid flanks, their strange and simple call,

_peet-iveet, peet-weet_, may be heard in quick succession, louder,

and more distinct, than was their wont. Nor do the males alone indulge

therein; for the gentler sex oft join their lords in wanton rivalry.

Less whimsical than their aristocratic neighbors who affect the tall

tree-tops and shady bushes, the lady Sandpipers are more easily wooed

and won. Their ardent lovers have but to make their suits with due

obsequiousness, to receive the courted promises. A few more avowals of

love, and caresses, and the necessary reciprocations on the part of the

females, and the happy lovers having sealed their plighted pledges in a

bond of union, the respective parties journey off in search of suitable

places for establishing their homes. This event generally occurs about

the last of May, in some localities, but sometimes not earlier than

the second week of June, in others, and, perhaps, later in the extreme

northern limits of its habitat.

A period of three or four days being spent in examining the surrounding

country, the various parties soon settle upon localities. While some

prefer the borders of ponds and streams, or more retired and secluded

situations in the midst of forests, or a corn-field on elevated ground,

others, again, have a hankering for low, sandy islands, or marshes by

the sea-coast, or even the almost barren beach itself.

This part of the business being attended to, each female begins to

construct her nest. For this purpose she scratches a slight hollow in

the sandy earth, and proceeds to line it with a few pieces of straw,

or moss, or sea-weed, the nature of the materials depending upon the

_environment_. When the nest is placed in a corn-field, it is generally

built at the root of a hill of Indian corn, and is either lined with

straws, or mosses; when upon the seashore, various species of algae are

used.

Having finished her rather simple and hastily-constructed home, with as

little delay as possible the female commences to deposit her complement

of four eggs. This she does at the rate of one egg a day, in as many

consecutive days, taking due care to place them with the small ends

together in the middle of the nest.

The last egg deposited, the female, on the day thereafter, enters the

nest, and commences the duty of incubation. She is not necessarily a

very close sitter, especially when her nest is located in a sandy soil,

as the heated sand has doubtless much to do with the development of the

young. During inclement weather, protection is absolutely essential;

consequently, one bird or the other must occupy it, by turns, until the

necessity has passed.

While one is incubating, it does not appear that her partner is

compelled to play the part of a purveyor of food. Careful examinations

have never enabled us to detect the least evidence thereof. When either

party is tired, or is severely pressed by hunger, the other is summoned

to the spot, to receive the charge of affairs. Thus the business goes on

for eighteen weary days, when the happy parents are blessed with a jolly

little family.

The young are not the mere helpless creatures such as we have all along

been describing, but as active beings, for the age, as it is possible

to conceive of. Clad in silken robes of drab, with beautiful stripes

of black adown the back, they constitute a merry, rollicking group of

birdies. The world to them is a paradise of beauty, and a garden-spot

of pleasure. As soon as they leave the shell, they run with remarkable

speed, and otherwise exhibit a precocity which seems unnatural at that

period of life. Feeding, like running, is instinctive. It cannot be that

it is learned by imitation, any more than the exercise of the cursorial

powers can be said to be thus acquired.

Although much of the trouble and care which birds generally bestow upon

their offspring are thus saved to these fortunate parents, yet the

power to discriminate between bad and good food, has to be learned by

attention to the commands and actions of wiser heads. The young are not

slow to profit from parental suggestions and instruction, for we find

them, at the expiration of a fortnight, engaged in foraging with the

judgment and adroitness of adults.

Few species exhibit symptoms of greater distress than these Sandpipers

when their breeding-grounds are approached by human beings. The parents

resort to every conceivable stratagem in order to draw the intruders

away. Counterfeiting lameness, and fluttering along the ground with

seeming difficulty, are two of the most characteristic devices which

they practise for this purpose. But the appearance of a dog considerably

heightens the agitation. It is very interesting to watch the actions

of the female on such occasions. In order to lead him away from her

terrified young, she throws herself before him, flutters away in a

contrary direction, but always managing to keep out of the reach of

danger. This she continues for some time, until the animal has been

drawn to a considerable distance, when she throws off the garb of

dissimulation, and takes to flight, leaving her pursuer standing

stock-still and gazing with astonishment and disappointment at the

remarkable transformation which has just been effected. While all this

has been going on, the young have scurried away to places of shelter and

security, where they are afterwards joined by their beloved parent, glad

to have escaped so fearful a calamity, and grateful for such a happy

deliverance.

A more substantial proof of the affection of this female for its young

could hardly be imagined than that which Wilson gives on the authority

of Mr. William Bartram. The scene of action is described as being on the

river shore, and the occasion, the repeated attempts made by a ground

squirrel to capture two young birds which a parent was trying to

defend. In order to ward off the assaults of the squirrel, she had

thrown her two young behind her. At every attempt of the animal to

seize them by a circuitous sweep, she would raise her wings almost

perpendicularly, assume the most formidable expression of which she

was capable, rush forward upon the squirrel, who, intimidated by the

boldness of her manner, would beat a precipitate retreat. The enemy,

recovering from his defeat, would presently return, and renew the

attack, but to be ingloriously driven back as before. The young, as

though sensible of their perilous situation, would crowd together behind

their protector, and shift their position as she advanced or retreated.

This interesting scene continued for at least ten minutes, when

the strength of the poor parent was observed to flag. The squirrel

perceiving his advantage, became more daring, increased the frequency of

his assaults, and would have gained an easy victory had not Mr. Bartram

stepped forward from his hiding-place and drove him back to his hole,

and thus rescued the innocent.

The eggs of this species are usually abruptly pyriform, of a

yellowish-buff ground-color, and are marked with blotches and spots

of umber and sienna, which are collected chiefly about the greater

extremity, where they are sometimes confluent. Occasionally, some

specimens present a more elongated form, and others have the primary

color of a yellowish-drab tint, with the markings of a deeper shade.

The dimensions vary somewhat in a large collection from widely-separated

localities. The largest measure 1.41 by .99 of an inch, and the smallest

1.25 by .94. Considering the size of the bird, they seem to be out of

all proportion.

[Illustration: 112]

Plate XII.--SPIZELLA SOCIALIS, Bonaparte.--Chipping Sparrow.

|The Chipping Sparrow, so familiar to everybody, is not only one of

the most abundant, but also one of the most widely diffused of all our

species. It is found from the Atlantic to the Pacific in its two races,

and breeds from Georgia to Nova Scotia on our eastern seaboard, and

from Vera Cruz, Mexico, northward through Arizona, Utah and California.

Although obtained at different seasons of the year in all portions of

North America to Mexico, it is a strange and remarkable fact that its

breeding-grounds are not equally extensive.

Large numbers of these birds annually winter in the valley of the

Colorado, and thence doubtless spread themselves over the whole Pacific

region, as far north as Fort Resolution, on Great Slave Lake. In the

East they may be seen in companies of a hundred or more from October to

April through Northern Georgia and South Carolina, and possibly in the

Gulf States.

On the return of mild weather, which generally follows the vernal

equinox, these flocks forsake in a measure their winter homes, and

journey northward. Those from Northern Mexico pursue a northwesterly

course, reaching Arizona about the twenty-fourth of March, where a

part remain to breed; but the greater portion pass up the valley of the

Colorado, and after receiving fresh accessions to their number, continue

their migratory course until they have reached their destination. On the

other hand, our Eastern variety tarries longer in the South, and only

takes its departure when Nature, awakened from her winter sleep in our

Northern States, has begun to put on her charming robe of green. But

unlike its Western brother, it arrives in pairs, and never with the show

and pomp of a large army. The tardiness of vegetation, and the paucity

of insect life incident thereto, have doubtless much to do with the time

and manner of its coming. In the Middle States this event happens during

the last week of April, and in New England about the fifteenth, but the

birds do not seem to become very abundant in the latter section until

the beginning of May.

The Field and Song Sparrows, near relatives, are much earlier comers,

and are already in full song, making the groves and fields vocal with

praises, long before the Chippy has made his appearance. But when the

latter does arrive, we must look for his presence in our gardens and

orchards, rather than along the borders of thickets, where he commends

himself to our favor and esteem by his tameness and sociability. About

our doorsides he loves to glean his fare, and when an opportunity

offers, will often enter our houses during meal-times. So accustomed to

man does the species become, that individuals have been known to present

themselves regularly for food, as often as thrice a day, and even to

accept the same from human hands.

The male is so absorbed in feeding during the first ten days of his

stay that no attempt at singing is made. His only note then is a simple

_chip_, indicative of unrest. This is slowly uttered, and at somewhat

measured intervals. But later, he essays a song, and throughout the

month of roses, his unpretending ditty, which consists of a repetition

of the same sound, is kept up for hours together with scarce an

intermission. Though poor his reputation as a singer, yet individuals

have actually been known to sing, and very sweetly, too, but such cases

are wholly exceptional, _et lusus naturae_. Mr. Flagg, in speaking of

the male, says, "He seems to be the sentinel whom Nature has appointed

to watch for the first glimmerings of dawn, which he always faithfully

announces before any other bird is awake. Two or three strains from his

octave pipe are the signal for a general awaking of the birds, and

one by one they join the song, until the whole air resounds with an

harmonious medley of voices." Again, says the same happy writer, "His

continued trilling note is to the warbling band of morning musicians

which may be heard before sunrise during May and June like the octave

flute as heard in a grand concert of artificial instruments."

The singing of the males is the inauguration of a new era in bird-life.

The search for food no longer engrosses the attention as of yore,

but the all-absorbing passion of love. The sexes cease their solitary

wanderings. The females, moved by the touching appeals of the males,

leave their native haunts, and join their masculine companions. All is

now a scene of bustle and activity. The wooer and the wooed meet and

lavish upon each other the most endearing attentions. Happiness reigns

supreme. But the acme of felicity has not yet been reached. This is

brought about by degrees, and is only perfectly attained when conjugal

relationship is assumed.

In some parts of the country this important business is entered into as

early as the fifteenth of May, but in others it is necessarily deferred

until the succeeding month. The event is unattended by any peculiar

demonstrations of joy, and is mostly celebrated in a matter-of-fact,

businesslike way; the happy couple proceeding at once to an exploration

of the surrounding scenery for a suitable place in which to build a

home. This is a matter of little moment, as almost any small tree or

low bush is available for the purpose. The nest is never placed on the

ground, even in Arctic regions, where so many of our tree-builders

vary from this custom to nidificate on the ground. In the vicinity of

houses,' small trees, shrubbery and vines are utilized; but in pasture

grounds, and on the borders of small thickets, the common red-cedar is

chosen. Having selected a suitable site, both birds apply themselves to

the task of building for a period of four or five days, when a neat

and rather cosy structure is the result. Considerable variation is

discernible in the architecture of different individuals. Some nests are

rudely constructed, and rather loose and tenuous. Others have much of

periphery, but little of thickness and internal depth.

A typical nest is hemispherical, neatly but loosely built, and possesses

a cavity very symmetrical in contour. It is usually composed on the

outside, except in rare cases, of fine rootlets, and is lined with black

and white horse-hairs. In a beautiful domicile before us very few roots

are noticeable, the bulk of the fabric being composed of horse-hairs,

densely and compactly interwoven, and covered exteriorly with a few

fine twigs and lint. Other nests before us are built entirely of fine

rootlets. When such structures are found in bushes, and are well secured

and protected by enveloping leaves and twigs, a curious anomaly often

presents itself. A case of the kind came under our observation in

August, 1876. Since that time others have been met with. It is where the

nest, instead of occupying a nearly horizontal position, which is the

natural one, is placed at an angle of inclination, and bears in the

superior third a circular opening. What the object of this aperture can

be, it is impossible to say, as the bird could never be surprised while

on the nest. Possibly it was designed for the accommodation of the head

of the owner while the process of incubation was going on; or, it may

have been intended as a mode of ingress and egress, which opinion the

position of the nest and its surroundings would seem to warrant.

One of the most curious and exceptional nests which we have ever seen,

was obtained in the summer of 1870, in Northumberland Co., Pa. This

nest was built upon a small bush, at an elevation of two feet above the

ground. Externally, it is composed of dried plants, of an herbaceous

character, with seed vessels intact. Internally, there is a slight

lining of white horse-hairs. The diameter, on the outside, measures

nearly four inches, and the thickness three and a half inches. The

diameter of the cavity is three inches, and the depth nearly two. It

is a magnificent structure, closely and compactly woven, and exactly

hemispherical.

The drawing represents the usual style of nest. The position upon a

branch of the red-cedar is one that is frequently chosen. The outside is

mainly composed of fine roots of a reddish-brown color, and the inside

of an equal mixture of white and black horse-hairs. The dimensions are

as follows: External diameter, three inches; internal, two and a quarter

inches; depth inside, three-fourths, and outside, one and an eighth

inches.

The nest being finished, oviposition commences on the ensuing day, and

proceeds at the rate of one egg daily, until the entire number is laid.

This varies from three to five, even in the same locality. Incubation

commences on the day after the last deposit has been made, and continues

for a period of ten days. It is chiefly the duty of the female, although

the male occasionally lends his assistance by taking the nest. When

not thus occupied, he either polices the premises to guard against

intrusion, or is away in search of food. When with young both

birds become devoted parents, and evince the greatest anxiety and

consternation when their nest is disturbed.

Their actions at such times bespeak fear rather than courage. We have

never known them to assume the threatening attitude which characterizes

so many of our small species, nor seek to drive intruders away by sharp

scoldings and angry gesticulations. But knowing that resistance would

be useless, they quietly submit to circumstances, and repair to other

scenes where they think to be secure from molestation and harm in

carrying out the chief object of their being.

The young are fed at first on various larvæ, especially those of a

lepidopterous character. To these, earth-worms, aphides, beetles and

flies are added as condition and age require. When twelve days old

they are persuaded to leave the nest, and, under the direction of the

paternal sire, receive instruction in bird-lore. A period of eight or

nine days more, and they earn their own living. They do not forsake

their parents, however, but follow them into their old hunting-grounds,

and thus help to constitute the small flocks which are generally

observed in the fall of the year in our Eastern and Middle States,

previous to migration.

The eggs are oblong-oval in shape, and vary considerably in size. They

are of a bluish-green color, and are sparingly spotted with umber and

dark brown markings about the larger extremity. In some specimens,

the latter are grouped after the fashion of a wreath, but this is the

exception rather than the rule. The largest specimen we have ever seen

measures .80 by .57 of an inch; the smallest, .58 by .47. The average

measurement is .72 of an inch in length, and .54 in breadth. The species

as far as known is single-brooded.

[Illustration: 120]

Plate XIII.--PYRANGA RUBRA, Vieillot.--Scarlet Tanager.

|The Scarlet Taxager, a species but little known outside of the

ornithological world, is more generally distributed than the casual

observer is aware. According to various authorities, it ranges from

Texas to Maine, and from South Carolina in a northwesterly direction to

the southern limits of Lake Huron.

In the Eastern parts of Maine and Massachusetts it is but an occasional

migrant; while in the western counties of the latter State, it is

somewhat more plentiful, and nests in high, open woods and time-bewasted

orchards. But it is in the States of Pennsylvania, New Jersey and

Virginia, and throughout the great Valley of the Mississippi, that the

birds more especially abound and rear their young.

Few species are more susceptible to cold and sudden atmospheric changes

than the subject of our sketch. As a necessary consequence it is by no

means a very early comer. However fond it may be of the scenes of last

year's labors and pleasures, it does not forsake the genial climate and

perennial groves of its tropical American home, until balmy April has

yielded her crown and sceptre to the lovely goddess of May.

The male is usually the first to appear, the time of his arrival

antedating that of his sombre-colored, less-favored companion by three

or four days, although cases are cited where the sexes seemed to have

performed the journey together.

For some time subsequent to his advent, the male is shy and suspicious,

keeping away from the habitations of man, lest his brilliant suit

of scarlet and black should excite the envy of some cruel and

conscienceless collector, and he be summarily called upon, at the peril

of his life, to part therewith.

The female, on the contrary, less attractive in style and dress, has

fewer human admirers, and is permitted to roam _ad libitum_, and with

as much freedom and confidence as any of the little feathered creatures

that crowd about our doors.

But a change comes over the males after the lapse of a week or ten days.

They may now be seen along our thoroughfares, and in our fields and

gardens, acting with none of their former timidity, but endeavoring,

by their beautiful plumage, agreeable manners, sweet song and useful

service, to ingratiate themselves into the favor and esteem of their

human brethren.

Thus affairs continue for nearly a month, the sexes crossing and

recrossing each other's paths in their many journeyings, and so intent

upon the procurement of food, that the object of their mission is either

entirely lost sight of, or else is held in check, for the nonce, by some

strong impulse of their being.

Events, however, are ripening for a speedy fulfilment of the business

that has called them hither. The males exhibit less anxiety about

food-questions, and a positive distaste for the unsettled and lonely

lives which they have been leading. A similar feeling, but less

conspicuously manifested, pervades and animates the gentler sexes, if

outward actions afford proper criteria for judging of internal emotions.

But exceedingly more coy than their imperial lords, they keep at a

respectable distance, preferring to be wooed and won, rather than assume

any other _role_ in the drama.

The duty of taking the initiative step falls to the lot of the male.

In order to accomplish this purpose more effectively, perhaps, as he

thinks, he seeks the tall tree-tops, and for many a long and weary hour,

thrills the ambient air with his sweetest music. We have seen many

a venturesome fellow, seemingly unconscious of his surroundings, and

wholly absorbed in his voluntarily-imposed task, take his station upon a

lofty tree by the road-side, in full view of passers-by, and pour forth

his harmonious utterances with all the animation and pathos of his

being. Tired at last, he ceases his efforts, preens his feathers, and

is off to try his fortunes elsewhere. Thus he keeps up these movements,

with necessary intermissions of rest and recreation, during the livelong

day, until his song has arrested the attention of some impressible

female. This ditty, which is uttered in a low and pensive manner,

and which may be rather accurately represented by the syllables

_chi-chi-chi-char-ee-char-ee-chi_, has been likened to the well-known

notes of the Baltimore Oriole, but we are unable to trace the least

resemblance thereto.

His efforts being finally crowned with success, the happy lover is

profuse in his attentions and caresses, and leads his willing bride

to other scenes, where they spend a brief season of enjoyment, before

entering into preparations for establishing a home. As they move through

the branches and foliage together, they utter their affection in a low

whispering warble, and in tones of singular sweetness and tenderness.

Having celebrated their nuptials, they settle down to the duties of

nest-building in earnest. The selection of a site is the first thing

that commands attention. This is a matter of no little importance, and

one that requires the exercise of considerable judgment. Both birds

generally go together 011 this essential business, and carefully ransack

the fields and thickets until a location is obtained which is wholly

eligible. Nothing occurs in these examinations, if we are to judge from

the behavior of the participants therein, to give offence, or mar the

happiness of the wedded pair.

The places selected vary according to latitude and the fancy of the

builders. Orchards, and groves of chestnuts, oaks, and nut-trees are

frequented, and often a preference is manifested for swampy woods if

not too dense. In places contiguous to human habitations the builders,

especially the male, act with less carefulness than in more retired

localities. They are here more secure from the depredations of rapacious

birds, the latter having a decided aversion to man, their inveterate and

merciless foe.

Building operations are usually begun about the fifteenth of May in the

latitude of Philadelphia, towards the close of the month in New England,

but never later than the first or second week of June. In its southern

breeding-quarters, following the examples of its more distant relatives,

it doubtless nests earlier.

The nest is placed upon the horizontal branch of a fruit-tree, usually

on the edge of a wood, but occasionally in an orchard. Sometimes it is

built over a crotch, which constitutes a more stable position. When a

nest is located on the outskirts of a thicket, some species of oak, or

the tulip-tree, is generally selected as the recipient thereof. In an

orchard, the apple claims and receives this honor. Its height above the

ground is mostly from fifteen to twenty feet in sequestered situations,

but in cultivated districts, a much lower elevation is chosen.

The labor of building is performed mainly by the female, her partner

lending but little assistance. The time devoted to the task seldom

exceeds a period of four days, and so loosely are the fabrics put

together, in the majority of cases, that they scarcely survive the

season for which they were intended.

A structure before us is rather symmetrical and neatly built for the

species, and quite shallow. Externally, it is composed of dried twigs,

weeds and grasses, variously intermingled. Internally, there is a lining

of fine roots, grass-stems, and the inner bark of the chestnut and

oak. The outside diameter is five and a half inches, height two inches,

diameter of cavity three and a half inches, and depth about half an

inch.

Mr. Nuttall describes a nest examined by him as composed of rigid stalks

of weeds and slender fir-twigs joined together with narrow strips of

apocynum and pea-vine runners, and wound around with thin wiry stalks

of the helianthemum, the whole so loosely and thinly plaited as to admit

the light quite readily through the interstices.

The Plate represents the average structure. On examination it will be

found to be nearly circular above, although somewhat irregular towards

the lower two-thirds. The hase is rather loosely constructed of strips

of bark, fine stems of vegetables with dried flowers attached, and

rootlets of woody plants. Upon this as a basis is wrought, with more

compactness and finish, a framework, which is beautifully lined with

reddish-brown stems of herbaceous plants, and fine strips of inner bark.

The external diameter is five inches, and the height, two inches. The

diameter of the cavity is three inches, and the depth one-half of an

inch. This nest is shown in its natural position over and partly between

a forked branch of one of our common species of oak. The female bird is

placed upon the right, as though about to assume the duty of incubation;

while her illustrious partner occupies a very dignified position on the

left of the picture. All the figures, however, are reduced one-third, so

as to bring them within the scope of the page.

Having completed her home, the female almost immediately commences to

deposit her complement of four or five eggs, at the rate of one a day,

in as many consecutive days. This business being attended to, on the day

succeeding the last extrusion, she takes the nest, and for a period of

twelve or thirteen days of rather close sitting, supplies the warmth

necessary to develop her house-full of children.

It is a remarkable fact, and one that beautifully displays the wonderful

wisdom which is taught by Nature, that the brilliantly-colored males

studiously avoid the nest, and only approach it, when necessary, with

caution and stealth, for fear of betraying its presence; while the

females, with their plain coloring in harmony with the surrounding

foliage, sit thereon, and care for their helpless offspring without

danger of molestation. But if the nest is approached with hostile

intention, or is actually invaded, the males emerge from their places of

concealment, and assist in carrying its precious treasures away. But

how this is accomplished, it is impossible to say. Mr. Minot has known

instances where the young have been removed, although many of the cases

seemed to be beyond the ability of bird-ingenuity to accomplish.

On one occasion, while our worthy friend was ascending a tree which

contained a nest of this species, and that, too, with as much care and

quietness as was possible under the circumstances, he was surprised to

see the parent birds return several times to the tree upon his arrival

at a point which commanded full view of the inside of the domicile.

Although the nest was known to contain eggs, which were seen through

the interstices from below, his astonishment was undoubtedly heightened,

when he discovered it to be empty. He immediately began an examination

of the premises, but could find no pieces of broken shells, or traces

of yolk on branch, or on the ground beneath. The eggs had certainly

been spirited away, but whether they were afterwards returned and

successfully hatched or not, he was unable to say.

Notwithstanding the precaution which these birds take in the selection

of a building-spot, and the artfulness with which they seek to conceal

their home by means of the surrounding leaves, it is a fact, not

generally known, but nevertheless true, that much of their prudence and

painstaking counts for naught. They may deceive the trained collector,

but they cannot elude the sagacity and watchfulness of the female

Cowbird, who is ever on the alert and ready to slip into their

unoccupied nest and deposit her own egg.

We have known instances where as many as three of these parasitic eggs

had been left in the nest alongside of one of the rightful occupant's

eggs. A case of the kind came to notice last summer. But whether the

owners of the nest would have hatched the intruders or not, we cannot

say, as its contents were rifled shortly after the discovery had been

made. Owing to its shallowness, it is highly probable that the owners

would have thrown them out on becoming cognizant of their presence. With

small birds, and also with those which are in the habit of building deep

nests, there is considerable difficulty attending such an attempt. The

birds are generally obliged to submit to circumstances, and hatch the

aliens.

The food of the young is chiefly collected by the mother-bird, and

consists of the larvæ of beetles, various species of lepidoptera with

mature forms of the same, spiders, plant-lice, diptera and earthworms.

These are fed to them for the space of a fortnight subsequent to their

leaving the eggs, when they quit for the first time the close precincts

of their shallow home, to receive their earliest impressions of the

outside world, or to take some lessons in the secrets of bird-lore.

Another week more, and they are thrown upon the cold and pitiless world

to fight their way as others have done before.

The devotion of the parent to her young is shown not only in the

assiduity with which she labors to supply them with the essential

articles of diet, but also in the distress which she manifests when they

are in perilous situations, and in her efforts to extricate them from

the same.

Wilson relates a very touching instance of such devotion. Having taken a

very young bird from the nest, he carried it to his friend, Mr. Bartram.

The latter gentleman placed it in a cage, which he suspended near a nest

containing young Orioles, in hopes that the parents of these birds

would be moved to feed it. This they failed to do. Its cries, however,

attracted its own parent, who diligently attended it, and supplied it

with food for several days. At length she became so solicitous for its

liberation, as evidenced by repeated cries of entreaty, that Mr. Bartram

could bear it no longer. He immediately mounted to the cage, took out

the captive, and restored it to its parents, who accompanied it to the

woods with notes of great exultation.

Early in August the male begins to moult, when, after a little, he

appears in the greenish livery of the female. In this stage he is

not distinguishable from her or his young family. Now is the time for

departure, and parents and young forsake with many regrets the land

where they have experienced so much real happiness, for the sunny groves

of Mexico and Peru, or the breezy forests of their West Indian home.

The eggs of this species vary from an inch to .90 in length, and have an

average width of .65. The ground-color passes from a well-marked shade of

greenish-blue to a dull white with scarcely the faintest tinge of

blue. In some the spots differ in size, are more or less confluent, and

chiefly of a reddish-brown color intermingled with a few others of an

obscure purple. As a rule, there is a notable resemblance to each other,

in the eggs of the same nest-complement, except where, by reason of

pillage, or some adventitious circumstance, the female is called upon to

deposit, after she has already furnished the necessary number, in order

to compensate for those that have been taken or destroyed. It may be the

earliest-laid eggs that have escaped the avaricious oologist. In that

event, the additional ones must necessarily be lighter in colors, and

contrast very strongly with those which remain. Locality has doubtless

much to do with color-variations, southern specimens being more sharply

defined than those from colder latitudes.

[Illustration: 130]

Plate XIV.--HIRUNDO HORREORUM, Barton.--Barn Swallow.

|The Barn Swallow, the chief of its fellows, is the most widely

diffused, most generally abundant, and, wherever found, the best known

of all our species. None are more universally or deservedly popular.

It ranges throughout North America from Florida to Greenland, and from

the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, breeding, strange to say, over nearly

the whole of this vast territory.

Such is its attachment to last year's scenes and associations, that it

leaves its far-off home in the sunny South rather early, gathering its

forces from the plains of Brazil, the spicy isles of the Indies, and the

lofty plateau of Mexico, and wends its graceful flight northward.

Unlike many of its kin, this familiar little species does not wait until

the soft mild days of May have visited the earth, but, actuated by an

overmastering instinct to revisit the land of its nativity, it comes ere

the dying throes of the winter-demon have ceased to be heard in the wild

March winds.

But the more genial fields and streams of our Southern border-states

first invite its presence, and offer it an abiding-place, until its

more northern habitats are made to rejoice under the influence of

the sun-god. In the Central section of this great land of ours, this

generally occurs during the early days of balmy April, when spring may

be said to commence in earnest.

Hundreds of these agile creatures, carried away by the exuberance of

their feelings, may now be seen either disporting themselves in the

atmosphere, or more profitably engaged in pursuing their multifarious

prey on swift and noiseless wings.

While some remain in these parts to breed, others retire further north,

and take up their quarters in old accustomed haunts; reaching New

York and Southern New England towards the close of April, and the

more northern portions of the latter section about the first of May.

Continuing their migration, a few, according to Sir John Richardson,

pass on until they have attained the latitude of 67° 31', where they

stop to breed. This doubtless occurs about the last of May, or the

beginning of June, if the fact of their nesting at Fort Chippewayan, ten

degrees further south, on the fifteenth of May, affords any basis for

computation.

On the Pacific coast these birds are less abundant than 011 our Eastern

shores. This is attributable to the lack or scarcity of suitable

building-places. As settlements multiply, they increase in numbers,

especially in the neighborhood of farms. Farther inland, the species is

conspicuous for its rarity.

From the time of its arrival until its departure about the first of

September, and even during the breeding-period, this Swallow delights

in society. When foraging for food, it is not unusual to see varying

numbers of birds engaged in the same useful occupation. This habit of

gregariousness, which evinces a love for the companionship of its kind,

instead of dying out, as is generally the case with many species that

might be cited, continues to exist, and manifests itself during the

time of nesting by a desire to dwell in communities. But this is not

everywhere the case.

In some parts of the country, particularly in the extreme north, the

sexes appear to come together only upon arrival at their places of

destination. Mating commences either while the birds are in transit, or

immediately upon the conclusion thereof; and as nesting commences when

they have reached the end of their journey, it is reasonable to conclude

that the two follow each other in close succession, leaving no time for

the display of those curious antics so characteristic of the feathered

creatures.

But in lower latitudes, the first two or three weeks after the arrival

of these birds, is spent in the procurement of food. The good which is

then accomplished, cannot be fully appreciated, and is of such immense

value as to gain for the species the high position which it occupies in

the affections of mankind.

During the whole of this time, we have seen nothing that would appear to

indicate that courtship is indulged in. Perhaps this necessary business

of bird-life is practised in mid-air, while the sexes are skimming

through the swaying fluid, or circling in joyous company high overhead.

May not the pleasing, lively succession of twitterings which drop

earthward, when these lovely creatures are careering towards the dome of

heaven, he the love-songs which the males are pouring into the ears of

listening females? To be fully appreciated, they should be heard during

these exciting aerial movements. When perching, the birds seem

less animated; consequently, the music is slower, but none the less

agreeable.

Whether this business is in vogue or not among these birds, matters

little, so long as the important duty which has brought them hither is

accomplished. That this is the case, is indisputable, as the sexes are

known to separate from the flocks, and repair to accustomed haunts to

build.

The period of nesting varies somewhat according to latitude and the

conditions of the weather. In the West, nests have been found with eggs

as early as the thirtieth of April, but this was in the vicinity of San

Francisco. In semi-tropical regions, it is reasonable to look for an

early assumption of matrimonial relations. But in the generality of

instances, outside of our warm Southern latitudes, the birds commence

to build their domiciles from the fifteenth to the last of May, and, in

some cases, even running into the first week of the month that follows.

In the construction of a home, which is usually the work of six days,

the builders apply themselves with persevering assiduity, only stopping

from their labors, for brief spells of time, in order to rest, or to

procure the essential articles of food.

The places selected for this purpose are strange and various. In the

wild districts of the West, the birds nidificate in caves that abound in

the bluffs along the sea-shore. Near Fort Dallas, Oregon, the basaltic

cliffs so common thereabouts are utilized. In the vicinity of Pyramid

Lake, Nevada, their nests are placed among the "tufa domes" attached

to the roofs of caves, seldom more than one or two pairs being found

together. In other localities, in the same section of country, limestone

cliffs, crevices of rocks, and sides of wooden bridges, serve the same

purposes.

Coming East, where they are much more familiar and confiding, we find

quite a change in this particular. Venturing into our crowded cities,

they often build their elaborate homes in the porches of dwellings.

But the various farm-buildings, which are noticeable in agricultural

regions, are generally to be preferred. In such places, the nests are

erected on horizontal rafters, or secured to the frameworks, underneath

the eaves, after the fashion of the Cliff Swallow's nest. Again, bridges

and dilapidated spring-houses are occasionally pressed into service.

Besides the foregoing, cases have been cited where the nest of the Cliff

Swallow was used, and also one where a small building, of very rude

structure--which was temporarily occupied as a blacksmith-shop--was

utilized.

Their natural breeding-places, before the settlement of this country,

were caves, overhanging cliffs, and like situations. Swallow Cave, at

Nahant, was formerly a favorite place of resort. As the country becomes.

settled, these places are forsaken for the more convenient ones which

the buildings of the farm afford. Such accommodations, experience has

shown, tend to a rapid increase in their numbers, for the birds are not

slow to perceive the advantages which result from a close familiarity

with man.

The nests are constructed of separate layers of mud, from ten to twelve

in number, which are often, though not always, parted by strata of fine

grasses. The layers themselves are formed of small pellets composed of

clay and fine sand, worked over by the birds, and which are adjusted

side by side until each layer is complete. The walls being finished,

the circumscribed cavity is stuffed with fine soft grass, and is warmly

lined with downy feathers. The average height and breadth of such

structures when placed on the horizontal rafters of barns is about five

inches. The cavity is usually three inches wide at the rim--thus making

the thickness of the walls an inch--and about two inches in depth. When

placed against the side of a house or of a barn, a strong foundation of

mud is usually built, upon which the nest is reared. In that event, the

nest is more compactly made, and varies from the preceding, by its more

elongate form.

A striking peculiarity of many of these fabrics, is an additional

platform which is placed against the nest proper, but wholly distinct

therefrom. This is undoubtedly designed as a roosting-place, and is used

during the incubating period by the one or the other parent at night, or

when not occupied in the procurement of food, or by both when the young

have complete possession thereof.

A nest before us which was built upon a horizontal rafter underneath

an overshoot, and which may be regarded as typical in the ordinary

scientific sense, is composed externally of ten semi-elliptical series

of mud pellets, slightly overlapping each other after the manner of

tiles, and intercalated with the stems and blades of fine grasses.

Similar vegetable materials are found in small quantities on the

outside, which serve to strengthen the pellets, thus acting as

substantial girders to the entire structure. On the inside is a small

layer of the stems of our common timothy grass, which is followed by

another of greater compactness, and, finally, by a lining of soft meadow

grass. The entire length of this nest is four inches, and it gradually

tapers from above downwards, giving the appearance of a longitudinal

section of an inverted cone. The depression is two and a half inches

wide in one direction, about four in the line of greatest width, and

scarcely an inch in depth, the shallowness being compensated for by the

greater length transversally.

The Plate represents a nest which is nearly the exact counterpart of

the one just described, differing immaterially therefrom in the lack of

grasses between the layers of mud on the outside, and in having a lining

of feathers. The dimensions are about the same in the original, but have

been somewhat reduced in the cut, owing to the size of the page. The

female is shown upon the edge of the nest, peering therein, while her

stronger half is on the wing, and evidently homeward-bound. In the

natural position this elaborate structure was completely protected by

the eaves of the building against which it reposed, but in order to show

the inner arrangement, as well as the eggs _in situ_, the artist was

compelled to leave it partially exposed.

The nest being completed, two or three days elapse before the female is

ready to deposit her first egg. Having commenced, she continues to do

so, at the rate of one a day, until her full number is laid, which,

according to what shall constitute her complement, requires from four

to six days. Incubation immediately succeeds, and lasts for eleven

days. This is not exclusively the work of the female. Sometimes

her affectionate husband relieves her for awhile. But when not thus

employed, he occupies his spare moments either in fetching her some

dainty article of meat, or in guarding his home from intrusion.

Few species show less dread of man during these times. Such is the

confidence which is reposed in him, that the sitting-bird will keep to

the nest, and allow him to pass within a few feet of her. But, on the

other hand, if any interference is attempted, she glides noiselessly

out, and watches and contemplates his movements with few, if any,

murmurs of complaint.

An interesting account is given of these birds by Mr. J. K. Lord. While

he and his party were encamped at Schyakwateen, in British Columbia,

a small shanty, loosely constructed of poles, and tightly roofed, was

erected, and used as a blacksmith's shop. Early one morning, late in

June, they were visited by a pair of Swallows, who instantly perched

on the roof of this shed, unmindful of the noise of the bellows, or the

showers of sparks that flew around. Presently they entered the house,

and commenced an examination of the roof and its supporting poles,

twittering to each other the while, in the most animated manner. At

length the matter appeared to be settled, and on the ensuing day they

commenced the erection of a building on one of the poles directly

over the anvil. Though the hammer was constantly passing close to the

structure, yet the fearless builders kept steadily at work, and in about

three days had completed the rough outline thereof. A few days more, and

their home was ready for occupancy. The narrator often stationed himself

upon a log to watch them, with his face so near, that their feathers

frequently brushed against it as they toiled at their task. Suffice it

to say, the eggs were laid, the young hatched and successfully reared,

and the trustful pair maintained their serenity and fearlessness till

the last.

The attentions of the parents to their young are unremitting. The number

of small insects which they collect for them is almost incredible.

Flies, aquatic larvæ, and small moths form a considerable part of their

earliest diet. But as they become older, other insects are added to

their bill of fare. When about fourteen days old they are able to leave

the nest. The manouvres of the parents to entice them out, and the

assistance which they render them in their first feeble attempts

at flight, are among the most curious and interesting of all our

ornithological experiences. A few days' training gives them complete

control over their alar appendages, and they are soon as merry and happy

as any of their older companions, as they sail through the air in quest

of insects, or in the pursuit of pleasure. By the first of September,

they are strong enough to endure the fatigue incident to the long

journey which they are called upon to make, in obedience to the supreme

law of their being, at this season of the year.

The eggs of this species are white with a roseate tinge in unblown

specimens, and are marked with spots of reddish and purplish brown,

varying in size and number, but chiefly collected about the larger end.

From the Cliff Swallow's eggs, they differ in having finer spots, and

in being smaller and rather more elongated. Specimens from different

localities, and even in this region, show marked variations in length,

some being .95 of an inch, and others; not more than .74. The same bolds

good with respect to the width; the greatest being .63 of an inch, and

the least .50. The average dimensions are .77 by .55 of an inch. The number

of broods generally raised is two, the latter often as late as the

last of July, or the beginning of August. This is not always the case,

especially when the season has been unusually delayed by means of the

weather, or when the natural instinct has been unaccountably restrained.

[Illustration: 140]

Plate XV.--LOPHORTYX CALIFORNICA, Bonaparte.--The Valley Quail of

California.

The Valley Quail--so called in contradistinction to the Plumed or

Mountain Quail, which inhabits hills and highlands--has an exceedingly

limited range. It abounds in all the valleys of California and Oregon,

both inland and maritime, but never in the forest-depths, nor on the

mountain-tops, nor in the interior basin where there is a dearth of

water and vegetation. In the spring of 1857 these birds were introduced

into Washington Territory, on the grassy plains near Puget Sound, where

they soon established themselves.

According to Dr. Cones, who has paid special attention to the

distribution of our birds, the present species ranges from the Columbia

River to Cape St. Lucas. In California it is chiefly restricted to

the country west of the Sierra Nevada, which, with the Great Colorado

Desert, is said to constitute an apparently impassable barrier between

it and Gambel's Partridge--a very near relative. Up the mountains a

higher elevation than three or four thousand feet is never known to be

attained, the region beyond being occupied by the Mountain Quail.

Prairies and grain-fields, and thickets along the borders of streams,

are noted places of resort. Coveys of from a dozen to a hundred or more

individuals may be seen in such places, during the non-breeding season,

busily employed in gleaning, or in some sort of diversion. Although

comparatively tame, and permitting a very near approach, yet when

disturbed, they betake themselves to the bushes or trees. When to the

latter, they squat so closely along the branches, as to escape the keen

sight of pursuers. It will not lie to a dog, as our Eastern species is

wont to do, but runs until driven to seek safety in flight.

Throughout California these birds are often domesticated, and made to

consort with the common barnyard fowl. A similar practice might be tried

in the East with happy results. That it would succeed, there can be no

reasonable doubt. A few years ago, an attempt was made to introduce them

into Long Island, which was only partially successful. But the demands

of New York epicures soon led to their extermination.

The season of flocking being over, which continues from the first of

September until about the middle of May, as nearly as we can ascertain,

the coveys break up into pairs, and mating is about to commence.

This important event is heralded by certain peculiar cries which the

male-birds emit while sitting upon a stump or prostrate log in the midst

of the surrounding verdure. These notes are very strange, and may be

likened to the harsh and disagreeable tones of some of the Woodpeckers.

"They may be aptly represented," says Dr. Newberry, "by the syllables

_kûck-kuck-kûck-kâ_, the first three notes being rapidly repeated, the

last prolonged with a falling inflection."

Language can hardly describe the actions of the males during these

times. While some may be seen strutting along some fallen log, or

gesticulating overhead on the motionless tree-branches, others, less

lofty in their aspirations, move with dignified demeanor in and out the

bushes, untrammeled by interlacing grasses. All, however, seem animated

by one common impulse--the admiration and favor of birds less beautiful,

perhaps, but more modest, than themselves.

It is a charming sight, and one ever to be remembered, to watch these

enamored birds as they press their several suits. The stately tread,

erect but comely carriage, waving plumes, quivering wings, and flashing

eyes, bespeak the proud consciousness of superior worth and vigor. The

beautiful bird glances defiantly about him, and challenges loudly for a

rival. Again, he throws down the gauntlet, but none appears to take it

up. He may now retire; his rights are proven.

But hid away in leafy bower, a gentler being watches his movements,

admires his bearing, and fascinated by the courage she sees displayed,

hopes that the next movement may bring him to her side, but dreading

lest it may. At length their eyes meet, she trembles and attempts to

fly, but cannot. Another look; he reads the secret of her heart, and

with one loud, exultant cry, flies straight to her, curtsies low, and

with wing half-spread above her, whispers softly in her ear the story of

his love. She listens, but draws away. He pleads once more. She stands

irresolute. Again he makes the attempt. This time with all the eloquence

of his being. He conquers, and what a joy is his!

The trial over, the prize secured, the delighted lover, proud of his

bride, showers upon her the rich fruitage of his love, guards her

with jealous care, and seeks by every means in his power to add to her

comfort and happiness. A few days thus spent, and the wedded couple,

conscious of the sense of responsibility which attaches to them, cast

about for a suitable spot for a home. They search through the tall, rank

herbage, among piles of driftwood that lie scattered about, under fallen

cacti, or in the shadow of jasmine bushes, and at length make up their

minds. Where none of these are to be found, they do not hesitate to take

to an open field. Little more is needed than to fix upon a spot, for the

nest is far from an elaborate affair, being aught else than a collection

of loose, dry grasses arranged without much care. In many instances,

even these articles are dispensed with. The Plate represents the

ordinary style of nest, containing a set of thirteen eggs drawn to the

natural size. On the left of the picture may be seen the male, which

differs from the female in his more brilliant and vivid colors, both

being placed in the background.

Having finished her simple domicile, or rather having chosen a spot,

for laying--for in the generality of cases no nest whatever is made--the

female deposits day after day the eggs which are to constitute her

complement. These are said to be from twelve to sixteen in number. When

not pressed to lay, she rambles about with her lord, in close company,

until compelled to take the nest. She now abandons all recreation,

becomes sober and maternal, and sets about her duty in earnest. But

she is not forgotten because she cannot enter into his idle amusements.

Mounted upon some bush or log which projects above the nest, he stands

watch, or solaces her weary moments with his best music. This ditty,

though far from being harmonious, is presumably satisfactory to the one

concerned. The time spent in incubation lasts for two weeks or more,

until feeble cries are heard from the nest. The mother-bird now dries

and cuddles the queer little beings, and the happy parents soon lead

them off in quest of food. When the young are disturbed by human foes,

the male-bird utters a sharp _pit_, resembling the common note of the

Cardinal Grosbeak, which is doubtless the signal for flight.

The eggs of this Quail differ somewhat in size, and also in

ornamentation. The ground-color is usually a creamy-white. The markings

sometimes occur in the form of freckles, at other times in large

scattered spots, and frequently in the form of confluent blotches.

Their colors pass from a uniform shading of olivaceous-drab, through a

rusty-drab, into a chestnut-brown. All the specimens that we have seen

are sharply defined at one extremity and rounded at the other. In a set

of fourteen eggs before us, the largest measures 1.32 by 1.00 inches;

the smallest 1.13 in length and .97 in breadth. The average size is 1.23

by .98 inches. From the number of eggs sometimes found in a nest, it

becomes a question whether birds, severely pressed, may not sometimes

lay in nests not their own. We have no positive information that this

does happen, but observation renders it highly probable that such is

the case with the Virginia Quail, and, also, with some other birds.

But however this may be, it is tolerably certain that broods of young

sometimes coalesce after hatching. It has even been inferred that

several females belong to one male, and with their varying broods run

together.

[Illustration: 146]

Plate XVI.--REGULUS SATRAPA, Licht.--Golden-crowned Kinglet.

The Golden-crowned Kinglet, or Wren, ranges over nearly the entire

continent of North America, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, and

northward from Texas and New Mexico to Sitka on the west, where it seems

to replace the Ruby-crown. On our eastern seaboard it doubtless attains

as high a latitude. Audubon claims to having found it nesting in

Newfoundland, and Baedecker, in Labrador, but recent travelers have

certainly not encountered its presence during the breeding-period in

those parts, since they have left no record of such occurrence.

In the United States, until recently, it was generally supposed to be

a migrant; arriving pretty punctually in October, just as autumn is

merging into winter, and remaining till May. But the past five or

six years have let in new light upon its history, and shown, what had

already been surmised, that it would be found to breed in the coniferous

forests, and mountainous regions toward our northern border.

Our knowledge of the species is limited, and is mainly restricted to its

habits during its long stay with us from October to May. Every one who

has left the shadow of home, and strayed out into the fields and woods,

or along the margins of ice-bound streams and ponds, must have had

his attention directed to its cries as it flitted from tree to tree

in search of food. At such times, the sexes remain apart, or but

occasionally come together. Although shunning, rather than courting

each other's society, their casual meeting is not the harbinger of

contention, but is either tacitly acknowledged, or passed by unnoticed.

While there seems to be an indisposition to mingle, yet evidence is not

wanting to show that society of some kind is not wholly disagreeable.

Either sex manifests, or seems to manifest, some regard for the

Black-capped Titmouse. Wherever you discover the one, you are

pretty sure to find the other. This occurrence does not appear to be

accidental, but rather to be dictated by a desire for company, or by

actual necessity.

Although evincing a decided partiality for Nature in her wildness, on

warm, sunshiny days in mid-winter our little friend may frequently

be seen climbing about our trees after the fashion of a Creeper, or

standing beside our doors in anxious expectation of receiving his

share of crumbs from the table. He is now the very impersonation

of fearlessness, and conducts himself with all the familiarity of a

long-tried friend.

But as spring returns, a peculiar cry greets the ear, louder and more

frequent than usual. _Tsi-tsi-tsi_ comes from wood and glen, from stream

and hollow. Once heard, these syllables can never be forgotten, for

they are uttered in a running, pleasing rhythm, and with a gently-rising

intonation, and seem indicative of joy and satisfaction. But as the

season for departure arrives, these sounds give place to others of a

more agreeable character. Even in the heart of winter this music may be

heard. Perhaps some precious reminiscence of the past has arisen in the

memory to evoke this flood of song.

Full of expectancy and unrest, about the middle of May--often earlier,

seldom later--the little Golden-crown wings its flight to other scenes.

Of the exact time, we know nothing. It does not stop to bid us an

affectionate adieu, but is gone before we are hardly aware of the blank

which it has left. Its return is as unheralded and mysterious. To-day

we admire its graceful actions, sprightly ditty and beautiful plumage.

To-morrow we search the old haunts, feeling almost confident that it

must be lurking somewhere about, but to be doomed to disappointment.

Occasionally our patience is rewarded by finding a couple of

individuals, who have either lost their reckoning, or have made up their

minds to spend the summer at home. But the most of their fellows still

follow the path which their ancestors have so long trodden.

While some follow the stretch of country between our two great western

mountain systems, and breed in Washington Territory and the country to

the northward, others forsake their winter-quarters, and travel in a

northeasterly direction to the shores of Newfoundland and Labrador. A

few, however, lag behind and find suitable summer resorts in the pine

forests and Thuja swamps of New Hampshire and Maine. When our mountain

regions and dense forests are better known, we hazard the opinion

that many will be found to breed nearer home than we are aware. Paired

individuals have often been met with along the hills of the Wissahickon,

in Pennsylvania, during the breeding-season, which evidently had nests,

but diligent search failed to reveal the fact.

Before the discovery of the nest of this species, the presumption was

that it built a pensile nest, not unlike the European congener, and that

it laid small eggs faintly sprinkled with buff-colored dots on a white

background, but differing little in size from those of the common

Humming-bird. It was also inferred that two broods were annually raised,

from the fact that so much time was spent in its summer abode, and also

because full-fledged young were found by Mr. Nuttall in May, on the

Columbia, and in August, by Mr. Audubon, in Labrador.

According to Mr. J. K. Lord, who discovered this species to be very

common in Vancouver's Island, and also along the entire boundary-line of

Washington Territory and British Columbia, where it sometimes reaches an

elevation of six thousand feet, it constructs a pensile nest, which it

suspends from the extreme end of a pine-branch; and that it lays

from five to seven eggs. The materials of the nest, and the color and

dimensions of the eggs, were never described.

The world remained in ignorance of these matters until the summer of

1875, when Mr. H. D. Minot discovered, on the sixteenth day of July, a

nest of this species. It was built in a forest of the White Mountains,

which consisted chiefly of white birches and evergreens. The nest

was securely fastened to the twigs of a spreading hemlock-bough, was

globular in shape, and placed about four feet above the ground. The

outside was composed of hanging moss and bits of dead leaves; the

inside was chiefly lined with feathers. There can be no doubt as to the

authenticity of this nest, as Mr. Minot observed the parents in the act

of carrying food to their young, and was enabled to track them to their

homes.

But the structure from which the drawing was made--found near Bangor,

Maine--was presented to Mr. Harry Merrill, in the summer of 1876. It

was placed about six feet from the ground in a mass of thick growth so

peculiar to many of our fir trees, and is chiefly composed of moss on

the outside, with a few small fragments of chips, and is lined with hair

and feathers, the latter principally. The external diameter is four and

a half inches, and depth outside nearly three inches. The opening is at

the top, and measures about one and three-fourths inches across, and two

in depth. Although the birds that built this nest were not seen by

Mr. Merrill, yet by the pretty sure evidence of exclusion, they cannot

belong to any other species than the one under consideration.

Of their habits while with young, our knowledge is small. It is evident,

however, from what Mr. Minot says, that both parents supply their

nestlings with food. Incubation is doubtless performed by them both, the

female assuming the bulk of the labor. Unlike many species, these birds

do not pass the breeding-season in silence, but keep up, with occasional

intermissions, an animated twittering.

The eggs possibly range from six to ten in number. To the eye they

appear of a cream-white color, apparently covered with minute spots.

Under the microscope, the ground-color is white, with shell marks

of purplish-slate, and a few obscure spots of a deep buff, rather

superficial, to which their dirty tinge is probably due. The largest

egg measures .52 of an inch in length, and .40 in width; the smallest, .47

by .30 inches. The average dimensions of the ten eggs are .50 by .41

inches.

[Illustration: 152]

Plate XVII.--UTAMANIA TORDA, (Linn.), Leach.--Razor-billed Auk.

The Razor-billed Auc, owing to its boreal residence, is not so well

known as many other marine species which breed nearer home. Like its

few intimate cousins, it is chiefly restricted to Arctic regions, only

coming southward when pressed by severe weather.

Though apparently the best known of its family, yet many of the

details of its habits are lacking to render its biography anything like

complete. Of its area of distribution we are tolerably well-informed.

In the north-eastern portions of North America, particularly along the

sea-borders of Labrador and Newfoundland, it is quite plentiful, and

thence occasionally strays along the coast-lines of New England and the

Middle States during the winter. These birds, however, are not confined

to this continent, but are identical with the bird of the northern

regions of the Old World.

According to Mr. Cory, who has studied them in their haunts, they are

remarkably abundant and prolific on some of the Magdalen Islands, Bird

Rock and Byron Island especially, where the young birds were observed in

their downy robes of black and white.

Visiting the United States only in small numbers during the inclemency

of winter, its predilection for the northern homes of its fathers--when

the mild breath of spring in its upward march from the South has

tempered with mercy the reign of old Boreas in his rocky, ice-bound

fastnesses--induces it to take its departure, and wend its longing

flight thither.

There is not the slightest evidence, so far as our investigations have

extended, to show that any attempts have ever been made to nest along

the shores of this country. The fact that the species breeds on the

islands in the Bay of Fundy, would seem to warrant the belief that they

may yet be found to visit the coast of Maine for this purpose. There

seems to be no good reason why they should not do so, as the maritime

parts of this State are apparently as well adapted for nesting as the

islands just mentioned.

Be this as it may, cool northern localities seem to be more

advantageous, and there, along with the Guillemots as their neighbors,

the subject of our sketch establishes his home and rears his little

family.

In boreal regions where the amatory forces are not called into action

as early as in more southern climes, by reason of the greater degrees

of cold which prevail, the acquirement of food seems to exercise such a

controlling influence over bird-nature, that all other duties are held

under temporary restraint. Consequently, matrimonial relations are not

entered into as early as in warmer latitudes. This essential business is

delayed, and is only warmed into activity when the sun has reached the

northern limits of its course.

About the beginning of June, there occurs a lull in foraging

transactions, and the sexes become suddenly aware of the object of their

creation. Mating is at once entered into, but with what appearance of

show, we are unable to say.

Having attended to this duty, without further ado, they seek themselves

out a spot in which to lay their egg or eggs. For this purpose a

horizontal cavern or some exposed locality is generally chosen. But

when they deposit their eggs along with the Guillemots, which they are

occasionally disposed to do, they drop them in situations from which the

water can escape without offering any material injury thereto.

In deep fissures, many birds lie together, and place their eggs upon

small beds of pebbles or broken stones, which are raised a couple of

inches or more, so that the water may readily pass beneath them. Here

the eggs are scattered at distances of three or four inches from each

other, and are incubated, as in the case of the Ducks, by the birds

sitting flat upon them. Whereas, upon an exposed rock, each bird stands

almost upright on its egg.

There yet remains a very strange fact concerning this Auk, which needs

to be noted. It pertains to the number of eggs which is to constitute

a nest-full. When nesting occurs in secluded situations, where security

against tidal currents, and divers accidents, is to be gained, in the

majority of instances, two eggs are found under a single female. In

exposed situations, on the other hand, it is a rare occurrence to find

more than one egg as a complement.

The above statements, which are substantially those of Audubon, have

been repeatedly verified by other observers, some of whom are among

the writer's most reliable correspondents. At first we were disposed to

question their accuracy. We could not see what advantages a sequestered

situation had over one that was open and exposed, so as to lead the

birds to double their number in the former case. Our only way out of the

difficulty then, was by supposing the two eggs to be laid by different

birds, in close proximity to each other. For want of the necessary room

to accommodate the two females, it became the duty of one or the other

to assume the responsibility of them. Owing to the great difficulty

of distinguishing the eggs of this species from those of the Murre or

Foolish Guillemot, which most oologists have experienced, and which

Audubon does not seem to have encountered, it occurred to us that as the

Auks are prone to drop their eggs alongside of those of the Guillemots,

maybe the two eggs were those of distinct species, and not the product

of the one under consideration.

Without further mincing of matters, there does not seem to be any valid

reason for doubting the authenticity of Audubon's statements. But as a

true student of Nature, it is our duty to receive the facts, confirmed

as they have been by subsequent observations, and seek an explanation

thereof which will be both rational and philosophic.

In exposed situations, the eggs are subject to certain perils, such as

exposures to storms and violent gusts of wind, which more retired places

would guard against. The Auks have doubtless learned this as a lesson of

experience. Perhaps, necessity only compels them to occupy such sites,

when there is a scarcity of deep fissures and horizontal caverns, by

reason of a superabundance of mated individuals. If one egg could be

better protected and covered than two, which the nearly erect attitude

of the bird would seem to warrant us in believing, some females would

certainly not be slow in perceiving the advantages to be acquired. The

experiment being tried by birds of unusual sagacity, and with happy

results, in course of time all the others would be led to the practice

of depositing a single egg. Furthermore, the laying of one egg, in case

of breakage, would not be as severely felt as in cases where more than

one constituted the complement. The habit of laying one egg in exposed

situations, would doubtless be continued for a while at least, should

the species so accustomed, ever be called upon to nest in places

protected by the rocky munitions of Nature. And, on the other hand,

birds habituated to nesting in sheltered situations, would for a while

continue to deposit two eggs for a setting.

The eggs being laid, the female soon commences to incubate. This seems

to be the exclusive labor of the sex. The fact that she plucks the

feathers from her abdomen, forming one or two bare spots (according to

the number which is to compose her complement) with a ridge of feathers

between them, though circumstantial in character, is the only kind

of evidence that we have to offer in support of our assertion. Of the

precise time required for hatching, we have no knowledge. From the size

of the egg, and the thickness of its shell, we reason from analogy that

it cannot be less than twenty-four days. The female is not a constant

sitter during the daytime, the heated pebbles on clear, sunshiny days

supplying the necessary warmth during her absence. When the weather is

cloudy, and even during the cool nights, she remains on the nest, the

male, as a faithful husband, doubtless answering her calls for food, or

keeping her company.

That these birds manifest true affection for each other cannot be

denied. They may have a different way of showing it from what we are

accustomed to see among our small land-birds, but we cannot speak with

positiveness. But this much is undisputed, when one is killed, its mate

does not desert it, but paddles around it, as if seeking the cause of

its stillness. At such times, so absorbed does it become, whether from

grief or wonder we cannot say, that it can easily be approached and

knocked over with an oar.

The food of the Razor-bills consists of small fishes, roe, shrimps,

various marine animals, and floating garbage, which they procure by

diving and swimming, or pick up among the rocks which they frequent. The

young doubtless subsist upon the same materials, which they receive from

their parents, in small pieces, during their earliest life. But after

they have passed the downy stage, and are thrown, in a measure, upon

their own resources, they imitate the example of their parents.

So much like the eggs of the Foolish Guillemot or Murre, already

mentioned, are those of this species, that it is impossible to discern a

characteristic so peculiar and persistent as to enable us to distinguish

them apart. The ground-color is generally a pure-white; but specimens

are often met with which are cream-colored, and others, again, which are

tinted with green. The spots and blotches are irregularly distributed,

but chiefly about the middle and the larger end. Some are small and

nearly round, others large and irregular. In color they show different

shades of black and brown. In addition to these markings, there are

others scattered over the egg, of an obscure-purple hue, which have the

appearance of being beneath the outside of the shell. The eggs vary in

shape; occasionally they are pyriform and ovoidal, and, at other times,

decidedly ovate.

Their length is 3.19 inches, and breadth 2.13. In the Plate, the egg is

figured the natural size, and placed upon the summit of a small pile of

stones at the entrance to a cavern along a rocky seashore. The birds are

reduced and put in the background, the idea being to show their form, as

well as the arrangement of their plumage.

[Illustration: 160]

Plate XVIII.--DENDROECA DISCOLOR, Baird.--Prairie Warbler.

|The Prairie Warbler is nowhere an abundant species. Throughout the

eastern parts of the United States, from Massachusetts to Georgia, it

is pretty generally, though somewhat irregularly, diffused. It is also

found in Kansas, according to Mr. Allen, although unobserved by Dr.

Coues in his western explorations.

Audubon claims to have met it in Louisiana, but his description of its

nesting is so palpably inaccurate, that we are compelled to accept his

statement with misgivings. Wilson obtained specimens in Kentucky, and

to him the species is indebted for the very inappropriate appellation by

which it is known. Nuttall regarded it a rare visitor in the New England

States, yet subsequent observations do not confirm his opinion, but

show, in Massachusetts especially, that it is rather common. In Eastern

Tennessee and Northern Georgia, in the summer of 1880, Mr. Alexander M.

Reynolds, of Germantown, Pa., met with numerous individuals, which had

probably bred in those regions, but no nests were taken.

Although the town of Lynn, Mass., in latitude 42° 30', had hitherto been

accepted as the northern limit of its breeding, yet it was reserved for

H. D. Minot, Esq., to prove that the species often reached the

latitude of Mt. Washington, nearly three degrees further north. Future

explorations will doubtless show that its vernal migration often

surpasses this limit, and reaches even to the Canadian dominions.

In the Middle Atlantic States the writer has obtained specimens early

in May, and has observed in Southern New Jersey, and elsewhere, young

birds just able to fly, but could never discover auy nests. Mr. Jolin

Cassin, in his day, expressed the opinion that these birds certainly

bred in the same State, near Philadelphia, as he frequently met with the

young under similar circumstances. Nests have been taken in Central New

York, but we have no evidence of its breeding in the adjoining State of

Pennsylvania, although individuals have been seen _in transitu_.

Though chiefly a migrant in the United States, yet a few winter

in Florida. But the larger part cross the Channel, after the

breeding-season is over, and spend their time in the delightful islands

which lie to the southward. Here, in January, these once beautiful birds

may be seen in their winter garb sporting amid tropical or sub-tropical

foliage, or hunting the insects that contribute to their bill of fare.

About the beginning of April, sometimes later, they deck themselves in

their summer array, and while some sojourn in these Isles of the Blest

where summer is perennial, and raise their charming little families,

others pine for the cooler groves and fields of the North. Accordingly,

about the tenth of April, all things being in readiness, and at a season

when Nature is weeping herself away in rainy tears, the males apparently

leading the way, the sexes bid adieu to the sights about them, and take

their departure.

Their arrival in the Middle section of our country varies somewhat,

and is dependent upon the season. During some years we have noted their

appearance about the twentieth of April, when the weather was fine, and

at other times not earlier than the first of May. In the vicinity of

Washington, Dr. Coues has found them in pine-trees and cedar-patches,

about the same time. Farther south, in Georgia, for example, the

birds make their advent as early as the tenth of April, preferring the

hillsides to open localities, but it is not until the second or the

third week of May that they reach the New England States.

Few species of the family to which this Warbler belongs arrive sooner,

and none are less shy and suspicious. For more than two weeks they are

denizens of open plains and thinly-wooded regions, where they may be

seen from sunrise until sunset, save during the sultry noontide hours,

leisurely moving along the lowermost tree-branches, or among low bushes

and herbaceous weeds by the roadside, in search of insects, all the

while uttering, at brief intervals, their characteristic _chirr_. Near

Boston they frequent "almost exclusively rocky pasture grounds and the

'scrub,'" and instances are recorded by Mr. Minot where shrubbery in

cultivated grounds has been visited. According to Mr. Gosse, individuals

have been seen to fly from wayside-bushes into the middle of the road,

where, hovering in the air, at slight elevations above the ground, they

were apparently engaged in the capture of dipterous insects.

But as the mating season approaches, the males become quite restless.

They manifest less concern about food, and from some low eminence may

be seen pouring forth their slender, filing notes, which, as Nuttall

has represented, may be very aptly expressed by the suppressed syllables

'_tsh-tsh-tsh-tshea_. These notes cannot fail to attract attention, and,

when once heard, are sure to leave a lasting impress on the mind. They

are uttered in a peculiar tone, each being given in a louder key than

the preceding, and frequently with a strange depression of the tail.

The little musicians, however, have not long to wait. For hours we have

known some love-lorn minstrel of another species to sing his very soul

away, without an answering note to repay him for all his trouble. The

one for which he tuned his vocal pipe was too much occupied by other

cares to be mindful of the delicious strains which were being wasted 011

the desert air. But not so in the present instance. The dear ones for

whom they watch, and for whom they chant their sweetest, purest music,

are not so far removed by hill and dale, by grove and plain, are not

so absorbed in food-concerns, as not to hear the sounds which are being

uttered for their sole pleasure. But obedient to the call, they cease

their feeding, turn listening ears in the directions whence the sounds

issue, and hearing once again, with pleasure-beaming eyes and swelling

bosoms, seek the lonely haunts of their would-be-suitors. The joy of the

males is now unbounded. They strike their harps afresh, and music, it

seems, ten-fold more ravishing, is discoursed. The effect is charming.

The gentle beings feel the notes pulsing through their rapt frames,

and, all-unconscious, yield themselves willing subjects to their proud

conquerors.

Thus it is that mating is accomplished. A few days spent in aimless

wanderings and pleasure-seeking, and the happy pair are prepared to

build themselves a home. For this purpose they visit in company some

wild pasture-land or thinly-wooded tract, where, after a day or two

occupied in prospecting, they decide upon some kind of bush or low tree

in which to place it. The birds do not seem to be very particular as to

the kind. In some localities, a wild rose-bush is preferred. In others,

low barberry bushes, or the lower limbs of post-oaks, are rendered

subservient.

The site, and the kind of bush or tree being chosen, the birds commence

to build. The nest is non-pensile, and is fixed either in a forked

branch, or is supported, as is the case when placed in a wild rose, by

two or more branches. The elevation above the ground is usually from

four to seven feet. No case has come to our knowledge where the latter

height has been exceeded. The period of nesting varies according to

locality. In Georgia nests have been found with eggs as early as the

second of May, which would make it appear that they were constructed

towards the close of the preceding month. In one instance, eggs were

found as late as the tenth of June. It is probable that the birds

commence labor about the first of May, in this section of the country,

and sitting, a fortnight later. In New Jersey this essential business

is delayed until the middle of this month, while in Massachusetts, it is

not undertaken before the first week of June.

Having built their domicile, which is usually the work of a week,

both birds laboring with praiseworthy diligence, and only intermitting

operations when pressed by bad weather and the approach of night, the

female commences to deposit her eggs. These are laid on consecutive

days, at the rate of one a day. The time devoted to oviposition lasts

from three to six days, and is dependent, upon the number which is to

constitute a complement. As soon as the last deposit is made, the female

takes the nest, and continues thereon, save when the male relieves her,

for a period of eleven days, when she is rewarded for her patience and

assiduity, by seeing and hearing a nest-full of callow fledglings. While

the female is thus engaged, the male is busy among the branches of

low bushes and saplings in search of small caterpillars and insects.

Occasionally, he may be seen upon the shrub which supports the nest,

apparently on the alert for intruders, which he signals by a low chirp.

Should the nest be examined, he and his partner exhibit no outward signs

of indignation or lamentation, but remain quietly in the neighborhood

until the danger is past, when they return to their home. If the nest is

ravaged, they set to work to replenish it, wasting little, if any, time

over the contingencies of fate. In case of a second desecration, they

quietly forsake the place, and if the season is not too far advanced,

seek quarters elsewhere, where they endeavor to build a home and rear

their offspring. On approaching the nest the female is very confiding,

and exercises no precautions to guard against exposure, as is the case

with many of our small birds. Nuttall gives a striking proof of this

fact. On one occasion he removed two eggs from the nest, which he

subsequently replaced. Each time, on withdrawal, she returned thither,

but practised no stratagems to lure him away.

In their descriptions of the nests and eggs of this species both Wilson

and Audubon are certainly at fault. They differ from more recent and

reliable observations. The nest, as described by them, is never pensile,

but is scarcely distinguishable from that of the Yellow Warbler.

Xuttall, on the other hand, is not open to the same criticism. The

nest which he describes, was placed in a forked branch, and formed

of caterpillars' silk, strips of the inner bark of the red cedar, and

fibres of asclepias. The inside was lined with the down of a species of

everlasting.

A nest found by Mr. Welch, in Lynn, and described by Dr. Brewer, was

built upon a wild rose, only a few feet above the ground. It was a

compact and elaborately woven fabric, and was composed chiefly of soft

inner bark of small shrubs, bits of dry rose leaves, wood, strips of

vegetables, woody fibres, spiders' webs, decayed stems of plants, etc.,

on the outside, and was lined with fine vegetable fibres and a few

horse-hairs. The outside diameter was two and a half inches, and the

height, the same. The inside diameter was two inches; depth, one and a

half. The above nest, in its general mode of construction, resembled

all he had seen. In other nests he found only variations in composing

materials. While some had dead and decayed leaves instead of fine strips

of bark, others contained the remains of old cocoons, or the pappus of

composite plants.

But the structure from which the drawing was made, was found June 4th,

1875, in the vicinity of Newton, Mass., by J. Warren, Esq. It was placed

in a rose-bush, about three feet from the ground. Outside it is composed

of bark of deciduous trees, vegetable fibres, spiders' webs, old

cocoons, dry leaves, pappus of composite plants, and cotton ravellings.

The inside is lined with the white silken fibres of the wild flax,

constituting a rather dense layer, over which is placed a small stratum

of black and white horse-hairs intermingled with vegetable fibres and

the inner bark of woody plants. The external diameter is two and a half

inches, and the height two. The cavity is one and three-fourths inches,

and one and a half deep. In shape, the nest is nearly hemispherical,

compactly and elaborately made, and, above all, constitutes a very

snug and cosy structure. In these particulars it bears a very close

resemblance to the nest of the Summer Yellow-bird, but differs in the

character of the composing materials, there being less of the satiny

fibres of the flax used in its workmanship.

The eggs are of an oval shape, pointed at one extremity, and measure .09

of an inch in length, and .49 in width. The ground-color is white, and

over it are scattered spots of lilac and purple, as well as others of

two shades of umber-brown. In all the specimens which we have examined

from New England and Northern Georgia the spots are mostly accumulated

about the larger half of the egg, those upon the smaller portion being

finer and less numerous.

[Illustration: 168]

Plate XIX.--ZENAIDURA CAROLINENSIS, (Linn.) Bonaparte.--Mourning Dove.

|The Mourning Dove, one of the best known of our American species, is

quite generally diffused throughout the United States. It is found from

the Gulf of Mexico to Colorado, and from the Atlantic westward to the

Pacific Ocean. In the Northern States it is chiefly migratory; in

the Middle Atlantic but partially so; while in the country south of

Pennsylvania it is a winter resident, and manifests a tendency to

gregariousness, flocks of hundreds, and even more, being seen during the

winter in the woods of South Carolina and Georgia.

East of the Rocky Mountains, as well as in the vast region stretching

westward, they occur in greater or less abundance. To be sure there are

localities where they are notably scarce, but only in regions unblessed

by Nature with suitable accommodations for nesting purposes, and with

the essential means of subsistence.

In the South, breeding occasionally takes place early in March, but

ordinarily not before the beginning of April. Not so in more northern

sections. The eighth of March, which is also the time of their

appearance in the Middle States, marks the period of their arrival in

New England, although in Eastern Pennsylvania, during very backward

seasons, their visit is often delayed until the fifteenth of April.

But, in the extreme northern parts of our country, various circumstances

combine to render their coming an event of later occurrence, for we find

that they do not reach the States of Michigan and Wisconsin much before

the twentieth of the month. The vicissitudes incident to change of

climate and new environments all operate to prevent the assumption of

matrimonial relations as early as in semi-tropical climes.