|For variety and brilliancy of coloring none of our North American
finches can compare with the one which constitutes the subject of this
sketch. The euphonious French title by which it is designated has been
most aptly chosen. For, verily, it is the nonpareil of avian beauty.
Nature seems to have spared no pains in making this her handiwork
the perfection of artistic design and ornamentation. Such an array of
colors, and the beautiful harmony which characterizes their blending,
bespeak no mean, unskilful painter, but a master-hand, before whose
paltriest, weakest efforts the noblest of man's productions sinks into
insignificance.
Contrasted with its less showy associates that frequent the same
delightful, sunny landscapes to breed, this lovely species seems
altogether out of place. It is a fitter denizen for realms beyond the
tropic, where the broad-leaved banana hangs its clustering, golden
flagons temptingly to the gaze, and where many-hued, various life
rejoices in wanton prodigality.
Though reared amid the rich savannas and fertile slopes of South
Carolina, and the belt of country thence westward to the Pecos River,
of Texas, it is only a temporary sojourner. With the first breath that
comes from the north, in the fall, it takes its departure, and wings its
flight to warmer latitudes. The land of the Aztec, and the warm isles of
the sea to the southward, are its destination. A few individuals, fond
of travel and change of scenery, do not, however, pause from their
journey until they have reached the Isthmus which weds the two great
halves of the American continent.
As spring approaches, an anxious spirit of restlessness seizes the
males, which sooner or later communicates itself to the opposite
sex. This is manifest some time before setting out. But guided by a
never-erring instinct, they curb their impatience, and thus bring it
under restraint. Hence, like many kindred species, they are not very
early comers. The middle of April--the season of sunshine and of
showers--usually dates their first appearance in the Gulf States, and
from this time they are not slow in reaching their most northern homes.
The lords, in their spruce and rich attires, generally lead their sober,
unadorned companions by several days, and may be seen in low thickets
along the borders of streams, among the rice plantations, or in the
vicinity of the sad, cheerless sea. Fond of the lowlands, at such times,
one would imagine that such situations would have a depressing effect,
and render them gloomy and despondent. But this is far from being the
truth. Almost from the beginning of their arrival, they are endowed with
the propensity to sing, even before their partners have come. From the
summit of a Wayside bush, a fence-rail, or from out the hedges of some
suburban villa, their rich, mellifluent warblings may be heard to
the infinite pleasure and joy of the weary pedestrian. These musical
utterances resemble the notes of the common Indigo Bird, but lack their
energy and power of sustentation. It is not now that their songs are
heard to the best advantage, but when the season of mating occurs, a
fortnight later. They are then in their happiest moods. The presence of
the dear ones excites within them the passion of love, and calls forth
the highest capabilities of their natures. In the days of Wilson these
were recognized, and many a male-bird was captured and confined to a
cage, by the French inhabitants of the lower parishes of Louisiana, not
more for the splendor of his plumage, the docility of his manners, than
for the sweetness of his song. Great numbers were not only decoyed into
traps, and other devices, to satisfy the growing desire for such pets
at home, but hundreds were shipped to other countries. But it is only of
late years that their introduction into our northern cities has been an
object of pecuniary profit, and now almost every fancier's store is made
to rejoice with the dulcet strains of this beautiful and active little
Finch.
Coming back from this digression, let us view, for a few moments,
the character of the sexes, and their behavior at the time of mating.
Naturally pugnacious in the presence of a rival, the male is all
gentleness and kindness when in the society of females, and exerts his
best efforts to please and conciliate. The character of the female is
the exact antithesis of his, and wins admiration by its sweetness
and simplicity. Modest and plain in dress, she is equally artless and
unassuming in demeanor. The courage which she sees displayed by her
masculine protector does not impress her with feelings of awe and
timidity, but challenges her admiration, confidence and esteem. Knowing
that such conduct, so thoroughly devoid of civility as it seemeth,
is but the outgrowth of jealous affection, she is drawn to him by an
influence which she cannot control nor resist. Consequently, his road
to happiness and bliss is one untrammeled by the cares and trials which
beset the paths of less fortunate claimants for female favors. He has
only to present his suit accompanied by the usual protestations of love,
to have it honored with a prompt and willing acceptance. While these
amours are being enacted, a rival dare not intrude upon the hallowed
precincts. Such an act of temerity would but be the prelude to a bitter
encounter, which must result in one or the other of the combatants being
driven away discomfited and disgraced. The females are never known
to take part in these affrays, but maintain, at a safe distance, an
attitude of passivity. So well known to the bird-dealers of New Orleans
is this peculiar disposition about which we have been writing, that
advantage is taken thereof for the purposes of the trade. It is on this
wise: A mounted male-bird is placed in a position of defence upon the
platform of a trap-cage. As soon as discovered, it is attacked by a
male-bird with determined vigor, and even after the trap is sprung,
and the assailant has become an unwilling prisoner, these assaults are
continued with zealous and unremitting pertinacity.
Events now follow each other in close succession. Pairing being
solemnized, the birds seek themselves out a spot for a home. Low growths
are usually selected. In Texas, thick mezquite-bushes and live oaks,
and, in Louisiana, orange hedges, bramble and blackberry bushes, and,
occasionally, the lower branches of trees are occupied. The height above
the ground seldom exceeds ten feet, the usual elevation being from four
to five feet. A crotch is generally the recipient of the fabric, except
in cases where tangled bushes are used, when their booked and prong-like
branches serve as girders of support.
By the first of May, everything being in readiness, the ground-floor of
the domicile is laid, and little by little the walls are raised, through
the cool, united efforts of the two patient workers. By no means as
artistic as some we have already described, yet it is, withal, a neat,
comfortable and staid structure. The materials of composition are not at
all varied, but usually consist of dried grass, vegetable stems, leaves
in small quantities, fine rootlets, and silk of caterpillars, on the
exterior, and horse-hairs, or the slender culms of grasses, on the
interior. In many instances, the stems are clothed with long hairs,
which serve as points of attachment to the cottony and silken fibres
which bind the coarser substances together. A nest before us presents to
the unaided vision a slight lustrous appearance from the vast numbers of
membranous dessepiments or partitions--relics of seed-vessels that are
adherent to most of the stems. The cavity has an even, unragged margin,
which is due to the great pains taken in the disposition of the flaxen
fibres which, in a great measure, compose it. On the whole, the
outside is remarkably smooth and uniform, while the interior, with its
circularly-arranged layers, is a perfect model of elegance and comfort.
The height of the nest which we have figured, and the same may be
reasonably true of all such structures, is two and one-tenth inches,
and the width, two and nine-tenths. The opening is one and nine-tenths
inches in diameter, and nearly the same in depth. This nest was
collected in Comal County, Texas, on the ninth of May, 1881, and is a
fair representation of the typical structure. In the drawing it is shown
upon a live oak branch, of natural dimensions, and with the female
in the distance. Her partner is figured in the foreground, and may
be readily distinguished. His head and neck are a beautiful
ultramarine-blue, excepting a narrow patch from the chin to the breast,
which inclines to vermillion-red. The eye-lids, and the under parts
generally, are of this latter shade, while the rump is tinged with
purplish. All other parts (the lesser wing coverts, tail feathers, and
outer webs of quills excluded) are green, excepting the interscapular
region, which reflects a gloss of yellow, while the undescribed portions
are purplish-blue. What a contrast to the female-bird, which can only
boast of a dark green habit with a yellowish front. The young are the
likeness of their mothers. The length of the adult is five and a half
inches, and expanse of wings, two and seven-tenths.
From the first commencement of the home, to its final completion for
occupancy, not more than a week elapses, and the female is ready to
deposit her first instalment of eggs. This is succeeded by similar
payments, to the number of four or five, of the great debt which Nature
demands of her. Having settled the last obligation, she nestles down
into her cosy chamber with the determination to watch and wait for the
priceless treasures which she knows must be her ultimate reward. While
she is thus about her agreeable business, her proud and dignified
companion is abroad in quest of enjoyment and luxurious living. He seems
to be the happiest of fellows. Could you hear him as he wends his way
among the orangeries, in the full tide of song, you could not help
feeling that he is the most thoughtless and cruel fellow of your
acquaintance. Never a care does he appear to have for the patient little
being who is sitting her life away, in order that his loneliness and
hers shall be blessed with a happy house-full of children. But it is
otherwise. Seemingly unmindful, he is at heart a clever being. Let
but his home be invaded, and he is on the spot in an instant, ready to
avenge any wrong, in his own summary manner, that may be attempted or
committed. But his loving and Quaker-like housewife is possessed of
greater forbearance. Trustful and gentle, she will often permit herself
to be lifted from the nest rather than expose her jewels to the greed
and cruelty of an unsympathizing world. While a comparatively close
prisoner at home for a period of fourteen days during the incubating
process, she, however, does occasionally quit its shadows, when sorely
pressed by hunger, but only for a brief time.
The appearance of the young is the inauguration of a change in the
male's demeanor. Proud of his progeny, he breaks away from his hitherto
aimless habits, and makes amends therefore by becoming a very dutiful
and affectionate parent. With equal zeal he assists his partner in
collecting the various insects which contribute to their nourishment. As
long as their helplessness continues, he may be thus observed. But when,
after a period of thirteen or fourteen days, the young are able to quit
the nest, he abates his care in a measure, and teaches them to help
themselves. When sufficiently matured, like their parents, they feed
upon rice, the seeds of figs, and the various grains peculiar to their
native haunts, as well as upon insects. The young females soon acquire
their proper dress, but the males, on the contrary, are slow in arriving
at the same condition. Four years, at the farthest, are necessary to
bring about the final change.
The eggs are rounded-oval, of a white or grayish color, and beautifully
marked with brown and violet-colored spots chiefly about the larger
extremities, but more scattered, smaller and paler ones over the rest of
the eggs. In some specimens from Texas and Louisiana, the violet spots
predominate, thus contrasting in a marked manner with normal forms.
The average dimensions of a set from Texas are as follows: .85 by .60,
.80 by .60, .80 by .60 and .85 by .60 inches. Another set from Comal
County, of the same State, measure respectively .81 by .03, .81 by
.63, .75 by .63 and .75 by .62 inches. Nests with eggs, found as late
as June 21st, seem to warrant the belief that two broods are annually
raised, but this needs confirmation. In confinement, as many as three
are of common occurrence.
[Illustration: 244]
Plate XXVIII.--CERYLE ALCYON, (Linn.) Boie.--Belted Kingfisher.
|Excepting a very near and more powerful cousin which inhabits the
seashore and pellucid streams of California, the above species is the
sole representative of its family in the United States. No bird is more
distinctly characterized, and few are better known. The first sight of
it, with its long-pointed, heavily-set bill, ashy-blue crest, robust
and well-knit frame, and short but sinewy legs, cannot fail to leave
an indelible impression upon the mind, which nothing short of mental
amaurosis can obliterate.
Go where we will throughout the length and breadth of the land, and the
loud, harsh cry of this bird, which resembles the noise emitted by a
watchman's rattle, reminds us of its presence. Nor need we confine
our journeyings to such limits. But let us venture into the barren,
inhospitable realms of the North, where the stunted and poverty-pinched
Esquimau resides and ekes out a somewhat precarious existence, and our
friend still bears us company.
Fond of the scenes of its nativity, scarcely have their waters become
released from the icy fetters of winter by the breath of Phoebus, than
they are made vocal and cheerful by these proverbial and venturesome
fishers. The murmuring brook, the rushing torrent, the gentle waterfall,
and awe inspiring sea, all court its presence, and offer a generous and
willing support.
Like love-sick swains of whom poets have delighted to sing, they seek
such haunts, not more for their soothing, quieting influences, than for
pleasures more substantial which they are sure to find. Here, unmolested
by their great arch-enemy man, they can pursue their piscatorial
occupation as suits them best. Who has not observed some lonely
individual, with, apparently, every trace of care blotted out of his
life, thus occupied from early morning until night-time? Those who love
to quit the dust and turmoil of the city, to hold sweet communion
with the visible forms of wood and dell, have been silent, speechless
spectators of what we witness. However, for the benefit of such as
have been denied this pleasure and privilege, we would invite them to
a stroll into the country where babbling brook and quiet, sunny pond,
adorn the prospect. The utmost silence must be maintained in these
rambles, would you secure success. The presence of a human being upon
the scene where these lordly princes of the piscine craft hold high
revel, if detected, is almost sure to produce a stampede, and lead to
a hasty departure. Hence, great care must be exercised in approaching
their retreats, and even while quartered within the same. Once
there, and snugly ensconced by environing bushes from view, you await
developments. The object of your search may be but a few paces from you,
and you not cognizant of it. Five minutes pass, and nothing is heard
but the rumble of some distant cascade, the clatter of the stream as it
laves its reedy banks and pebbled bed, or the rustle of the dry leaves
around as they echo to the rabbit's heavy tread. Another space of equal
length has followed after, and the moments seem lengthened into weary
hours as you sit listening, and like results are your reward. But while
being tossed to and fro upon the ragged edge of suspense, and almost
bereft of hope, a loud, harsh rattle meets your ear. You look in the
direction whence the sound came, and there, perched upon an overhanging
bough just over your head, or a little to the right or left of you,
stands--the very embodiment of majesty and power--the creature for whom
you have been looking. Nor does he always occupy such a lofty position.
Betimes, he seeks a lower level, and may be found upon a stranded,
uplifted snag. Having discovered his whereabouts, you must watch him
closely, for the cry which you have just heard, is the signal that
precedes the assault that he is preparing to make upon some scaly
denizen of the water that has had the folly to show its gilded, tempting
form.
A sudden, circular plunge, accompanied by a dull, heavy splash, and
the frightened, squirming fish is wrested from its native element, and
swallowed in an instant. In less time than it takes to chronicle the
brief event, the daring, cruel deed is accomplished, and the perpetrator
thereof has regained his post, and stands ready for similar adventures.
Such is the greedy and unsatisfying character of his nature that, where
undisturbed, he has been known to watch for hours at a time without
changing his point of lookout. It must not be supposed, however, that
the quantity of food which he devours is in proportion to the time spent
in its procurement. This is not the case. Due allowance must be made for
disappointments and reverses, as well as for the failure of the finny
tribes to manifest themselves. Tired of watching, he often varies his
occupation by coursing along the stream at a small height above its
surface, and stopping anon, suspended after the fashion of Hawks, to
gaze into the depths below.
Nothing can be more interesting than the behavior of an individual who
has miscalculated his chances, and fallen wide of his mark when plunging
for prey. The very impersonation of disappointment, he retires to his
post, sullen and dejected. His very attitude and looks attest the war of
feelings waging within his bosom. But this is of short continuance.
The thoughts of past experiences come to his rescue, and he is himself
again. With the successful fellow the condition is different. Joy and
happiness are depicted where, before, we saw but misery and sadness.
However intently these birds may seem to be occupied with the business
before them, they are not so completely absorbed therein as to be
utterly oblivious to their surroundings. Blessed with sharp vision,
they are as equally favored in the direction of hearing. When the eye is
engaged, like a faithful sentinel on duty the ear, whose function it is
to receive and communicate vibrations of air to the brain where they
are interpreted, is always on the alert, ready to warn its companion of
danger.
From what has been written, it is evident that the desire for food
seems uppermost in the thoughts of these birds from their first
arrival--usually in March or April--until pairing commences. In its
gratification, the female is the equal of her lord. Such being the
case, it is unreasonable to expect any great degree, of familiarity and
friendship to exist between the sexes. They, therefore, dwell
apart. Accident sometimes brings them together, but beyond a silent
recognition, they evince no greater regard. Thus affairs continue for a
month, and even for a longer period of time, when they suddenly come to
a most glorious end by the assumption of connubial relations. Nothing
remarkable or impressive indicates the coming of this event. The male
seems to meet his partner unawares, makes overtures of love in his own
strange fashion, and becomes at once her uninfluenced choice. And thus
the story is ended.
Without further ado, the wedded couple prepare for the duties of
house-keeping. Usually they are spared the trouble of searching for a
home. Especially is this the case with old birds, who have only to
visit the scenes of other years to find a domicile awaiting occupancy. A
little repairing of the galleries leading thereto, as well as the cosy,
interior chamber, and the place soon wears an aspect of cheerfulness and
comfort. But where these structures do not exist, they are excavated
at great pains in the sides of ponds, streams, or cliffs contiguous
to water. A very common place, in the latitude of Philadelphia, is in
sandy, railroad cuttings. Dry, elevated grounds, beyond the reach of
inundations, are ordinarily chosen, although there may be exceptions to
the rule.
These burrows are the results of the alternate labors of the sexes, who
work with diligence and rapidity until the task is accomplished, often
making a deep excavation in a single night, when the bank is soft and
sandy. The directions and depths of these holes vary: some being less
than four feet, while others are more than fifteen feet deep; some being
straight, and others turning either to the right or to the left before
terminating in the enlarged chamber which is constructed as a place
of deposit for the eggs. The time spent in the formation of a burrow
depends upon the nature of the soil and the length of the shaft.
Ordinarily two days are required for its completion, although instances
are recalled where three, and even four days, have been occupied with
the tunneling.
With the successful accomplishment of this task, nothing further remains
to be done but to deposit the eggs upon the bare sand. Some birds do not
deem their labor finished until they have given their home a warm lining
of dried grasses and feathers. Such cases are exceptional, and dependent
upon the humidity of the ground.
In 1855, Dr. Brewer discovered a nest of this species on Mt. Washington,
alongside of a carriage-drive, and at a distance of a mile from any
water-shallows. Another was found in a sand-bank in the village of
Hingham, in close proximity to a dwelling, and quite remote from stream
or pond. The authors of the latter nest were very cautious and retiring,
seldom venturing out during the day, but were continually moving
backward and forward at night, as evidenced by their loud, rattling
cries. When with young these nocturnal excursions are not infrequent.
Speaking of the building habits of these birds, reminds us of a curious
fact which occurred in the history of a male-bird, of which Mr. Dali, of
Washington, was an eye-witness. On a certain occasion his attention was
attracted to his lordship engaged in digging holes by the side of
his nest, which were two feet in depth and eight inches in diameter,
apparently for no other purpose than that of pleasure or occupation.
They were invariably abandoned as soon as constructed. Once, he entered
one of these burrows to eat a fish which he had captured.
Many fabulous stories have been told in ages that are past of the nest
and manner of hatching of the Kingfishers, but they are too absurd and
trifling to deserve more than a passing notice. The birds of our day
neither construct their nests of glue or fishbones, nor commit them to
the mercy of the waters to float about at random with their proprietors,
but place them deep down in the earth, where they are secure from wind
and rain, and the thousand perils which threaten the homes of their less
sagacious neighbors. Into these secret recesses the females place their
pure white, nearly spherical treasures, to the number of six, on as many
consecutive clays. These beautiful solids exhibit not more than ordinary
variation in size, and rarely exceed 1.31 of an inch in length, and 1.06
in breadth from the most diverse localities.
By the beginning of June, sometimes two months earlier in the
semi-tropical sections of our country, the young, through the patient
setting of the mother-bird, make their appearance. While she is thus
concerned for fourteen long, weary days, her partner plays the role of a
very faithful and attentive husband, amply providing for her sustenance.
Both parents show great affection for their little family, and watch
over it with jealous and assiduous care. Weak and fragile creatures as
they are at birth, they cannot digest the unprepared food of adults, but
must needs have it reduced to a pulpy state by a process of maceration.
Later on this is discontinued, and the birdlings perform the important
duty for themselves. At the age of fifteen days they are old enough
to quit the nest, but usually remain a brief period longer, when they
venture out and try the fortunes of the outside world. At nights they
return to the hole where they were fledged, and also during rainy
weather, until the last of October, or the middle of November, when they
leave their parents, and like the latter, separate and wend their
flight to the South, or to regions beyond. When the season is unusually
propitious, they seek more sheltered localities, and spend the winter
with us.
From the male the female, as shown in the drawing, is readily
distinguished, by having the sides of the body and a transverse band
across the abdominal region, and slightly posterior to the bluish one of
the breast, light-chestnut, the pectoral band' being more or less tinged
with the same color. The young resemble the mother in the fall, but when
spring re-appears, the males present themselves in the paternal garb.
The length of the adult is about twelve and three-quarters inches;
that of the wing, six, and sometimes more. The small opening in the
embankment shows the entrance to a nest, and a female making her way
thither.
[Illustration: 252]
Plate XXIX.--BONASA UMBELLUS, (Linn.) Stephens.--Ruffed Grouse.
|Considerable misapprehension exists in relation to the popular
appellation applied to this species. In some parts of the country it is
dubbed the Partridge, while in others it goes by the name of Pheasant.
It is neither. All its affinities point away from these families, in
the direction of the True Grouse, of which it constitutes a useful and
interesting member. Pheasants are never found in the United States, but
are indigenous to Southern Asia. Their nearest representative here is
the Wild Turkey. Almost as much may be said of the Partridge, a group
of birds 'which are exclusive denizens of the Old World. To save further
confusion, we have thought it best to perpetuate in this work the title
given above. While it can offer no violence to scientific accuracy, it
cannot be otherwise than acceptable to the common sense of the masses,
although it be less euphonious than its contemporaries. The wear and
tear of constant use will soften its asperities and harshness, and
render it, in the long run, agreeable as it is appropriate.
This matter settled, we shall proceed at once to the subject. Few Grouse
are better known, and none more esteemed for its flesh, than the one
we have chosen for a few remarks. Everywhere throughout the timbered
regions of Eastern North America it is more or less plentiful, ranging
from the Atlantic seaboard to the Rocky Mountains, and from Georgia to
Nova Scotia. As far north as the 56th parallel it is said by Richardson
to abound in small flocks which show considerable lack of suspicion and
timidity. In all our Southern States, Louisiana excepted, they exist
to some extent, and are also to be found over limited portions of the
Missouri Region, but, doubtless, more especially about the mouth of the
river, and the contiguous country. In the western parts of the region
it is represented by a form which passes with ornithologists as a
well-defined, genuine variety. In California, it is presumed to
be wanting, as Dr. Newberry did not encounter any specimens in his
explorations; but in the wooded sections of the Cascade Range, where it
exists under a new varietal name, and also in the valley of the Willamet
in Oregon, it is by no means an uncommon occupant. It is in the New
England, Middle Atlantic and Northern Central States that these birds
are to be seen to best advantage, and in greatest numbers. West of the
Mississippi, if we exclude Eastern Kansas, Southern Iowa and the whole
of Missouri, they occur, if at all, in comparatively small and isolated
parties.
In regions which these Grouse inhabit, they are permanent residents, and
are never known to move southward with the retreat of warm weather. They
are capable of adapting themselves to climatic variations with ease, but
not so readily to surface irregularities and their natural concomitants.
Dense woods, craggy mountain-sides, and the borders of streams, are
noted places of resort. Lowlands, especially such as are invested
with thick growths of small bushes and tall rank grasses, are not
infrequently chosen. When in quest of food and gravel, they are known
to quit their favorite haunts, and betake themselves to the open road,
where groups may be seen absorbed in feeding. Not to that extent,
however, when the rustle of a moving leaf, or the crackling of a twig,
would pass unnoticed. The slightest noise causes a temporary suspension
of labor, and a shudder of surprise. All of a sudden, and in the most
perfect harmony, all heads are raised and pointing in the direction
whence the noise proceeded. The keen visions of these birds are not slow
in discerning through the gloomy recesses the presence of danger. Should
nothing of an alarming character manifest itself, a short parley ensues,
and business is resumed, but not with the same earnestness and apparent
lack of care as before. Greater caution is observable, and every effort
taken to prevent an ambuscade. But let the cause of the alarm, in the
shape of clog or man, be close at hand, and the birds immediately strike
for the cover, either on foot, or by means of flight. The latter
method is only adopted in extreme cases, when the other course would
be attended by disaster and probable ruin. In the exercise of their
cursorial powers, they move with remarkable swiftness, as with head
depressed, and tail expanded, they run for their lives. A pile
of brushwood, or an impenetrable jungle, when near, is rendered
subservient. There they manage to conceal themselves for a time, and
thus recover breath. If closely pursued, and in danger of being trampled
upon by the foot of the huntsman, or lacerated by the fangs of his
quadrupedal friend, they await the opportune moment when, with sudden,
whirring wings, they cleave the elastic ether, and vigorously press
forward to some transitory haven of security, but to fall once more in
the way of their relentless persecutors. These flights are so well-timed
and unexpected that many an experienced gunner is thrown off his guard,
and when, at last, he has recovered from his surprise and collected his
thoughts, feels vexed at himself for allowing his equanimity to become
unsettled by so familiar a strategem. He finds it useless to repine, but
endeavors to choke down the bitter sigh of disappointment that arises,
as he presses forward to further adventures.
Like the common domestic Hen, these Grouse are strictly gregarious,
especially during the autumnal and winter months. The flocks which they
form vary in numbers, and when disturbed while feeding, scatter in
all directions, each member seeking only its own individual safety and
wellbeing. But after the lapse of a few minutes, they become reassured,
and begin to gather simultaneously about the same spot, traveling the
entire distance on foot. The utmost circumspection and vigilance
are always exercised in these backward movements. Scarcity of food
occasionally causes these birds, where very numerous in mountainous
districts, to migrate to other places. These journeys are usually
effected about the middle of October, they then being in excellent order
and in great demand for the table. Audubon witnessed, in the fall of
1820, an immense number _in transitu_ from Ohio, Indiana and Illinois,
to Kentucky. Many of these became the prey of man, while their
companions who had escaped destruction sought, with the return of
Spring, their own cherished haunts. This disposition to lead a roving,
migratory life, as a general thing, is not hereditary, and is seldom
undertaken. Plenty of food is usually to be found in localities which
these birds frequent, and the necessity does not exist. Where there is
a paucity of appropriate food-stuffs, such as acorns, the seeds of
the beech and of the various species of birch, they do not hesitate
to devour the buds of the Mountain Laurel, which imparts a poisonous
character to their flesh. When severely pressed by hunger, they feed
upon dry bark, the insects that harbor in the creviced trunks and
branches of trees, and even stray to the roads that wander through their
gloomy retreats, and pick at the hard, frozen horse-droppings which they
chance to encounter. But when Spring returns, and renews her bond of
faith with mother Earth, they more than make up for their scanty winter
fare, and feast with fastidious appetites upon the now tender and juicy
buds of the black birch, which gives a peculiar and toothsome flavor to
their flesh, that has acquired for them, in some localities, the name of
Birch Partridge. For a brief spell every other interest is now absorbed
in that of unrestrained feasting to which the sexes submit themselves
with all the abandon of civilized humanity. The middle of March, or the
close of the month devoted by the ancient Romans to purifications and
fastings that precedes, when the weather is favorable, marks a change
in their life. This era is announced by a loud druming noise which is
everywhere to be heard. Standing upon a tall rock, or a fallen log, in
some secluded woods or other locality, the author of this noise may be
found. His altitude and demeanor must be observed to be appreciated.
Once seen, he can never be forgotten. Arrayed in his new spring-suit,
he is a being not to be despised. But this is not all. His
beautifully-contracted neck, broad, expanded, fan-like tail, and
elevated feather-tufts that ornament both sides of his neck, as he
struts about with all the grace 'and dignity of some pompous lord
or duke, render him of no mean importance, and add greatly to his
attractiveness.
But it is its final actions that impress the beholder with wonder
and admiration. The hitherto trailing wings now assume a condition of
rigidity, and commence a firm, but slow, downward and forward
movement, which steadily increases in power and rapidity, until the
swiftly-vibrating wings appear only as a semi-circular outline of mist
above the bird, thus giving rise to a sound which may be appropriately
likened to the reverberations of distant, muttering thunder. These
sounds are most generally heard during the cool hours of the morning,
when the spirits are buoyant after a night of refreshing slumber. But as
the day advances, they are less frequent, and irregular. So nicely can
they be imitated, that many a bird is drawn to his doom, when advancing
to meet a supposed antagonist.
As the drumming of the Ruffed Grouse is as often heard in fall as in
spring, it has long been a mooted question as to its significancy as the
call-note of the male during the breeding-period. But there cannot be
the least doubt of the correctness of this interpretation, for we have
the most incontestable proof of it in the responsive actions of the
female. Nuttall is probably correct in ascribing the autumnal exhibition
of the same wonderful power to self-gratification, and in affirming it
to be, in many instances, "an instinctive expression of hilarity and
vigor."
Besides the peculiar drumming sound which the males produce during the
love-season, they give expression to vocal utterances which are no less
remarkable. These are generally given forth when about to arise from the
ground, and consist of two well-defined and characteristic notes. The
first may be described as a sort of cackle, repeated several times in
lively succession. The other, which closely follows in its wake, is a
peculiar lisping whistle, which has not inaptly been compared to the cry
of a young bird. These notes doubtless play a part in the reconcilement
and bringing together of the sexes after their temporary separation.
While the courting-season continues, it is not an uncommon occurrence
to find a single male in the midst of several females, before whom he
is engaged in showing off his many good qualities and graces. In such a
dilemma, it is no easy matter to make a selection. Enamored by so many,
he is sometimes disposed to be gay and trifling, and to dally with the
affections of some pure and simple-minded female. Thus we often find him
carrying on the most cruel flirtations. But when he does bring himself
earnestly down to the business of choosing a partner, he does not go
about it in an uncertain, hesitating manner, but makes his selection
with promptness and dispatch. The successful female, proud of the honor
conferred, at the call of her lord, forsakes the group of unmarried
sisters, and follows him wherever he listeth. The warmest tokens of
affection and regard are lavished upon her, and woe to the rival who
should appear upon the scene while these amours are being enacted.
Should such an event come to pass, the intruder is at once assailed, and
a long and bloody encounter ensues, which results in the death of one or
other of the combatants, but never in the complete vanquishment of the
defensive party. Instances are known where males have treated their
first choice with cruel indifference, and ultimately deserted them. Such
things could not otherwise be when the question of polygamy comes to be
considered, for it is a fact that both birds are slightly promiscuous in
their intercourse, although the tendency is more marked upon the part of
the male.
The time of mating varies somewhat with climate, and with the conditions
of the season. In the warm sections of the South it occurs late in
March, or early in April. But further north where winter still lingers
with frosty coldness, the latter month is well nigh verging to its
close, or gliding into the succeeding period, before this essential
business is thought of. But when it does happen, with but little waste
of time, the female withdraws herself from the society of her partner,
and repairs to a secluded spot in the midst of a woods, where usually
beneath a clump of evergreen, or a pile of brush, or perhaps a fallen
log or projecting rock, she hastily scratches a few dry leaves together
for a nest. Here she deposits, one by one, in as many consecutive days,
her complement of six to twelve eggs, and immediately enters upon
the duties of incubation. In this she is alone, the male lending no
assistance, not even indirectly by attending to her demands for food.
While she is thus occupied, he seeks the company of others of his sex,
with whom he remains until the young are nearly full-grown, when
he joins the family, and dwells with it until spring. The period of
incubation ranges from nineteen to twenty days.
When first hatched, the young follow their mother, and soon learn to
comprehend her clucking call, as well as act responsively thereto. Few
mothers are more devoted to their children, and it is a rare occasion
to find one who is more courageous and wily in their defence. Let her
family be surprised by friend or foe, a single note of alarm is all that
is necessary to cause the brood to scatter, and with the most clever
adroitness to hide themselves beneath a bunch of leaves or grass.
So successfully is the concealment accomplished, that a careful and
protracted search is often necessary to discover their whereabouts.
Often when squatting by the roadside with her brood, the parent is taken
unawares. This is the trial which she of all others seems to dread.
To save her little ones she perils her own life by venturing upon an
assault. Her first impulse is to fly at the face of the intruding party,
but sober thought comes to her rescue, and teaches her the folly of such
a course. She yields, and the very next moment we find her tumbling over
and over upon the ground, apparently in the deepest distress, but soon
to recover her self-possession in time to carry out the final piece upon
the programme--a _ruse_ in which lameness is imitated with wonderful
ingenuity. While the mother is thus agitated, the birdlings are seen to
scamper in every direction to places of shelter. Having accomplished her
allotted part, the happy mother now flies away, and by her well-known
cluck soon gathers her brood together. The cry of the young is a simple
_peet_, which is heard repeatedly during feeding, but only occasionally
while nestling. Their food consists of the seeds of various plants,
and berries. While able to search for their own food, they derive
considerable assistance from the mother.
Such cunning, wee creatures, when first they leave the egg, can only be
compared with the young of our barnyard fowls. Dressed in a simple
garb, they look but little like their parents. Above they show a uniform
reddish-brown or rufous color, which fades into a rusty-white hue below.
With the exception of a dusky streak which starts from the posterior
part of the eye and crosses the auricular regions obliquely downward,
and a whitish bill, they have nothing to diversify the monotony of their
coloring. But when they have attained the age of four or five months,
they show their heredity so plainly that their identity cannot be
disputed or mistaken.
In the adult stage the tail is reddish-brown or gray above, with narrow
bars of black. Terminally, it is crossed by a slender band of pale ash,
which is preceded by a broader one of black, and this by another of an
ashy color. The upper parts are ochraceous-brown, and finely mottled
with grayish markings. The lower parts are chiefly white, with broad
transverse bars of light brown, which are mostly hidden from view upon
the abdomen. Upon the shoulders the shafts of the feathers have
pale streaks, which exist in those of the wing-coverts. The upper
tail-coverts and the wings are marked with pale grayish cordate spots,
while the lower tail-coverts are pale ochraceous, each being provided
with a terminal deltashaped spot of white, which is bordered with dusky.
The neck-tufts are brownish-black. The male measures eighteen inches in
length, and has a breadth of wings of seven and two-tenths inches. The
tail is about seven inches long. The female is smaller than the latter,
with similar colors, but has less prominent tufts upon the sides of the
neck.
The eggs of this species are usually of a uniform dark cream color, but
sometimes show a nearly pure-white ground. In most specimens there are
no markings at all, but when they do occur, are either quite numerous
and conspicuous, or few in number, and obscure. They are usually
ovoidal, but forms are occasionally met with which are nearly spherical.
Their average dimensions, as obtained from specimens from the most
diverse localities, are about 1.64 to 1.18 inches. As far as we have
been able to determine the species has never been known to produce more
than a single brood. Usually nesting is performed on the ground, as
shown in the cut, but instances are recorded by Samuels where the female
has occupied a deserted Crow's nest, or the shelter of some tall broken
trunk of a tree.
[Illustration: 262]
Plate XXX.--STERNA ANTILLARUM, (Less.) Coues.--Least Tern.
|For diminutiveness of size, nimbleness and grace of action, this
species stands alone among its kin, and has been very properly likened
in its movements to the sprightly, elfish Humming-bird. This comparison
holds true in this latter particular, as those who have had the
privilege of watching these Terns in their pleasurable aerial diversions
can testify, but there is lacking that essentiality which makes the
other seem, when fluttering before a tulip, a mere materialized sylph
from the land of dreams.
Nothing can give the enthusiastic lover of Nature more true and
unalloyed happiness than the study of our aquatic friend in his own
loved haunts, and while in the delightful exercise of his volant powers.
His majestic sailing through the pellucid atmosphere, whether for
pleasure or game, the beautiful equipoise of body as on motionless wings
he hangs suspended above the liquid abyss below, the sudden, impetuous,
hawk-like plunge when some luckless sprat rises to view, and last, but
not least, the easy manner with which he arrests his downward course
and bounds aloft, must be seen to form an adequate conception of the
wonderful powers of flight with which the _least_ of all our Terns is
endowed.
Although fond of the deep-blue sea, with its sad and
never-ending-monotone, and the dreary, almost barren waste of sands
that line its tortuous, plantless shores, it is by no means an exclusive
dweller by such haunts. Inspired by a love of adventure, and burning for
new sights and forms of life, it quits the shadow of Neptune's trident,
and wends its way up the various water-courses that tend seaward, to
quieter inland scenes.
While more especially abundant in maritime regions, it is, however, more
general in tracts remote therefrom than has been commonly supposed. So
that instead of the whole vast army betaking themselves to the thousand
miles stretching along the Atlantic, many from the Gulf in the South,
may be seen, when the tide of migration has set in, wending their
ways in small parties along the vast central artery of our land to the
distant valley of the Missouri, and elsewhere. Towards the setting sun,
another current takes its northward course, but spends its strength on
the mild, equable shores of California before any considerable elevation
is attained.
Whence come these birds? This is a question that is often asked, but
most difficult of solution. That they winter beyond the borders of the
United States there can be no doubt. After quitting our shores, it is
highly probable they seek the tropical realms of Central America, or the
breezy isles of the Larger Antilles.
But wherever they go, there they remain until the snows of their
northern homes have disappeared. So delicate and susceptible to cold
are they that even along our Southern sea-bordering States, where the
felicitous change first manifests itself, they delay their visit until
the early days of April are come. But it is not until this delightful
month of the year has stepped aside to welcome her smiling sister, that
the cooler shores of New Jersey are reached. From this latitude they
pursue their journey to the extreme limits of their habitat.
After a little they settle down to the very important business which has
inspired the journey. The twenty-fifth of May, or the beginning of
the month sacred to Juno, marks the love-season, which is of short
continuance. Having accomplished their loves and selected partners, the
sexes now turn their attention to household matters. The first thing to
be done is the selection of a spot and the preparation of a home. This
part of the business pertains exclusively to the female, and, seemingly,
is accounted of trifling moment. Like most of her terrestrial, and many
of her aquatic neighbors, she does not build a house, but on the pebbly
shingle just back of the beach, places her eggs on the bare ground, with
not so much as a bit of sea-weed or of grass beneath them. The merest
apology of a nest is often denied them.
The number of eggs deposited varies from one to two, the latter being
the ordinary number. Instances are recorded where as many as three
have been found as a nest-complement, but there certainly must be some
mistake, which could easily happen in localities where many birds are
breeding together. Where more than one is laid, a day usually intervenes
between the two deposits. Nothing is more difficult to find, even when
plentiful, than the eggs of this species, owing to the similarity of
their color to the surroundings. Their ground sometimes presents a
greenish-white color, but tends more to olivaceous or dull drab. The
markings are numerous, pretty generally diffused, but when of large
size, are mostly wreathed about the larger extremity. They consist of
irregular blotches and dots of different shades of brown, interspersed
with numerous obscure spots of lilac. Their average measurements are
1.26 by 1.02 inches.
Having committed her treasures to mother-earth, the female has little
else to do than to guard them from harm. The heat of the sand, when
the skies are undimmed by cloud or mist, is sufficient for hatching
purposes. The application of living heat, so to speak, is unnecessary,
and it is even a question in our minds whether the female could endure
the inconvenience and trials of the incubating process, in the midst
of a broiling sun upon a sandy sea-shore. But during wet and stormy
weather, and at night, this duty is actually incumbent upon her.
The appearance of the young, after a period of sixteen or seventeen
days, brings the parents nearer together, and keeps them more at home.
While kind and affectionate to each other, it is the attention which
they bestow upon their happy little family that commands our admiration,
and gives special prominence to their character. With true parental
instinct they watch over their early helplessness, and provide them with
an abundance of wholesome diet. Beetles, spiders, crickets and other
insects, as well as prawns, shrimps, skippers and small fish, form
their dietary. But it is not only by feeding them that they conserve to
their well-being, but also by protecting them when assailed by enemies.
The sight of an intruder is greeted with shrill cries of remonstrance
from a whole chorus of voices. This not having the desired effect, a
score of angry birds of both sexes dash boldly upon him, as though to
punish him for such rashness.
By the middle of June the earliest broods are on the wing. This,
however, is rather premature, for the greater part are not in a
condition for flight until the fore part of the month after. Associated
with them may often be seen plenty of immature birds of last summer's
hatchings, as well as the adults themselves. The yearlings are easily
distinguished by the black bill, slightly forked tail, slate-colored
occiput and auriculars, imperfect coloration of the primaries, absence
of black cap or white crescent, and the presence of a dark band
along the edge of the wing. With birds of the season, which show a
strangely-variegated dress of grayish-brown and white, there is no
possibility of being mistaken or confounded. The assumption of the
perfect plumage usually requires a period of two years. Both sexes are
similarly clad. During the breeding-season they have the entire upper
parts and wings of a clear bluish-gray, variegated with a triangular
white spot on the forehead reaching to the eye, and deep black crown
and occiput, as well as a line from the eye to the upper mandible of the
same color. The first ten primary wing feathers have the shafts black,
the outer webs and half the inner next the shaft, grayish-black, ends
concolorous, and inner margins white. The remaining primaries are of the
same color as the back, with inner margins white. Excepting the outer
borders of the external feathers, and the inner webs of the others
basally, which are white, the tail is slaty. The whole under parts are
of a lustrous white color, while the bill is a pale orange-yellow, iris
hazel, and legs and feet a light orange-red. The length of these birds
is about nine inches; their wings six and three-quarters, and the tail
a trifle more than one-half of the latter measurement. Young birds are
correspondingly smaller.
[Illustration: 268]