|Throughout the temperate regions of North America few species among our
nocturnal birds of prey have a wider distribution. In New England, and
the Middle, Southern and Western sections of our country, it is more or
less common, but on the Pacific as far north as Sitka, it gives place to
a different and well-marked variety, one whose habits are not materially
dissimilar to our Eastern form. McIlwraith gives it as a resident in
portions of Canada, near Hamilton and around Montreal, but further
north, if it appears at all, it is notably scarce. In the Arctic regions
it is evidently unknown, if the failures on the part of Richardson and
others to mention it in their travels afford any basis of judgment.
Towards the extreme limits of its range there is reason to believe that
it prevails in smaller numbers than elsewhere. In Pennsylvania and New
Jersey, where its habits have been especially studied by the author, it
is our most abundant species.
It courts rather than shuns human society. In some rural districts this
familiarity is more manifest than in others, particularly where unduly
harassed by boys and equally offensive birds. The immense good which
these Owls accomplish in the destruction of vermin should command for
them proper respect, but the most cruel persecutions are the only reward
which they receive. The evil which some of their less scrupulous and
larger brethren commit, reflects upon them, and they, through ignorance
and superstition, are made the scape-goats for a multiplicity of
sins. But fortunately there are localities where they are held in high
estimation by persons of sense and education, and amply recompensed.
Here they become remarkably unsuspicious, nesting and roosting in hollow
trees, and even venturing into barns and out-buildings to spend the
night.
More eminently nocturnal than any of its kind, it does not emerge from
its darksome quarters until the day has expired, and gloomy night has
assumed the rod of empire. In the uncertain twilight a few individuals,
pressed by hunger, may often be seen abroad, but it is not until every
trace of day has been obliterated that we find the majority on the
wing, in noiseless pursuit of game. When aroused during the daytime its
movements are somewhat dubious, and it acts very much like a child
who has been awakened from a sound sleep in the midst of a
brilliantly-lighted room. In cloudy weather less difficulty is
experienced, and its actions are freer. Young birds seem to be better
adapted to sunlight than their parents. May it not be that the constant
habit of sleeping during the day, consequent upon a night's carousal,
has so weakened the visual organs as to render them ill-fitted
for day-toil? Animals, accustomed to diurnal occupations, suffer
considerable inconvenience for a while when compelled to work at night.
A return to day-labor is attended, though perhaps in a less degree, by
the same discomfort. The irides undoubtedly habituate themselves to
a reversal of habit. It is a notorious fact that the young of the
Great-horned Owl can endure the intense light of the sun almost equally
with the Eagle, although being mainly nocturnal in habits. It is brought
about by the voluntary, rather than the automatic, movements of the
iris. This fact associated with the already mentioned circumstance in
the history of the present species, strongly favors the hypothesis that
all our Owls can in time adapt themselves to a change of habit _pari
passu_ with visual modification, as instanced in the case of the Day
Owl.
Appetitive gratification is the sole engrossing thought of these birds
outside of the mating season. While they devote much of their time
veering through the atmosphere in quest of insects which contribute
largely to their diet, still they do not deem themselves too aerial to
descend to the earth at times when some purpose is to be subserved. They
are fond of low meadows, and even premises adjoining barns, barracks,
etc., where they make terrible onslaughts upon the small quadrupeds
which infest such places. Sailing above the tall grasses, the smallest
creature is readily descried, and almost in the twinkling of an eye is
captured and borne away in the vice-like bill, or firm grasp of the
more powerful claws. When pressed for food they often conceal themselves
behind tufts of grasses, and await the appearance of their quarry, or
even visit our smaller birds upon their perches.
The nightly rampage of the Mottled Owl is always heralded by a peculiar
plaintive cry which strongly resembles the whinings of young puppies. It
alternates from high to low, and is occasionally varied by deep guttural
trills. From dusk until the clock has ushered in the wee hours of the
morning the ear of night is startled by these lugubrious utterances. By
some they are supposed to be intended as a summons from the female
to her partner, and _vice versa_. As they are chiefly heard while in
pursuit of prey, it is more than probable that they are designed to
startle small birds from their coverts, and thus insure their easy
capture. The representation of the notes may be quite accurately
expressed by _wha-a-a-a-a_.
Life without variety soon becomes monotonous, and in the case of the
human animal often leads to unpleasant results. With birds the dreary
autumnal and wintry days, which are spent in sleep and in contriving
means for obtaining a subsistence, are no longer a source of enjoyable
pleasure when spring returns, and we discover when the proper time
arrives that everywhere there exists a feeling to throw off the shackles
of such an existence, and to take on newer relationships. This varies
with the character of the weather. During favorable seasons the time
is earlier, but when the advancing steps of milder days are retarded by
frosts and snows, there is sometimes a delay of a fortnight. Not so with
the Mottled Owls. The period of mating with them usually begins quite
early, on or about the fifteenth of March in extreme southern latitudes,
but as late as the tenth of April in cooler northern sections. In the
Middle Atlantic States the time varies from the twentieth of March
to about the fifth of the succeeding month. It is then that the sexes
manifest more than the usual affection for each other. Their courtship
is brief, and business is entered into without the display of any of
those amusing antics which pre-eminently mark the smaller oscines. The
males, according to our experience, seem to select the same partners
on each recurrence of the breeding-time, where not debarred by various
fortuitous circumstances. As a proof of this position, we might instance
a case. In the vicinity of Philadelphia a pair of birds once laid claim
to a particular tree on the premises of a kind-hearted gentleman, who
would not suffer them to be disturbed. The breeding-season being over,
the female retained possession of the cavity which she had used while
rearing her young, and the male sought shelter in the same clump of
trees, but in a different hollow. As these were the only birds in that
locality, and were observed to occupy the same spot for two successive
years, there can be no reason to dispute the above question. By the law
of analogy, we presume that others do likewise.
Pairing having been solemnized, the sexes now set to work to re-furnish
their domicile. In the case of young birds some time is spent in looking
up a suitable hollow of requisite capacity. When preference is shown
for an orchard, the apple-tree is selected, especially if it is in close
proximity to a farmyard. In other situations, almost any of the species
of oaks is made to do good service. The hole generally chosen is one
which had been previously wrought by the Golden-shafted Woodpecker
at considerable pains. Where this does not exist, a decayed stump is
rendered available. The cavity is placed at varying heights, which seem
dependent upon the character of the neighborhood. In wooded regions
nests are placed at elevations of forty feet and upwards, while in
localities contiguous to human habitations, a greater height than ten
feet is scarcely reached, and some are never placed more than five or
six feet from the ground. The lining of the cavity consists of a few dry
leaves and grasses, with an upper stratum of feathers. These are mostly
placed in the bottom, and do not extend for any great distance along the
peripheral walls. In some instances the materials constituting their bed
are thrown promiscuously into the hollow.
Having provided herself with comfortable quarters, the female commences
to deposit her eggs, one a day, until the number is reached which is
to constitute her charge. Incubation at once ensues, and continues for
fifteen days. This is chiefly the labor of the female, although the male
sometimes relieves her when she is in quest of food. When with eggs or
young the approach of an enemy is greeted with a sort of hissing
sound, and the protrusion of the hand into the nest meets with a sharp
reception. If surprised in the daytime, these birds are such stupid,
sleepy creatures that your approach is scarcely noticed. A sort of
vacant stare, with occasional rapid blinkings, save when partially
aroused to consciousness by a sudden thrust with the finger, is the only
recognition which they give. But when disturbed with such rudeness they
open wide the eyes in a staring manner, throw back the head, and utter
a loud hiss of indignation or disgust, which is quickly followed by the
elevation and protrusion of the claws of the right foot. All this is
of momentary duration, and is quickly succeeded by the same stolid
indifference as manifested before.
The young are vigorous feeders, and tax the time and energies of the
parents to the utmost in the procurement of suitable nourishment.
All night long the latter are constantly on the go, both birds
being frequently absent together upon this important mission. Small
quadrupeds, birds, lizards and insects are a few of the articles which
contribute to their fare. At first these are torn into pieces by the
parents, and fed to them, but as they increase in age, the entire animal
is deposited in the burrow. Mr. Nuttall cites a case where a full supply
of Bluebirds, Blackbirds, and Sparrows was thrown into the nest--a
striking illustration of the provident habits of the parents. When
five weeks old the young leave the nest and receive their rations while
clinging to the tree-branches. A fortnight later they are able to
hunt for themselves, but at the dawn of morning suspend operations and
quietly retire to their homes. In the course of events they are obliged
to forsake the family-roof, and to seek quarters in hollow trees, the
gloomy recesses of dense forests, or the dark corners of out-buildings.
The characteristic plumages of the young, which they attain in
about four months from the time of hatching, vary, and are entirely
independent of age, sex; or season, being purely individual. There can
be no doubt about this statement, since in the same nest there may often
be observed both gray and red young ones, while their progenitors may
either be both red or both gray, the male red and the female gray, or
the reverse. The peculiar notes of the adults are assumed at the same
time. But the claws have scarcely acquired their normal development
until nearly two months more have been added to their age. In the
drawing the rufescent and normal plumages of the adults are so well
delineated that no description seems necessary. Specimens from different
localities show marked variations in dimensions, but those from which
the drawings were made, have a length of nine and a half inches, with
wing six and seven-tenths, and tail three and one-half. Young of the
normal dress have the secondaries, primary and tail as in the adult, but
the latter more mottled, and the bands confused. The rest of the plumage
is grayish-white, and marked with numerous transverse dusky-brown bars.
The eyebrows and lines are a dull white, with scarce a variegation, and
the facial circle obsolete. In the other plumage the wings and tail are
as in the adult birds. Upon the head and body the markings are as in
the young gray bird, but the white bars are more reddish, and the darker
ones a more decided brown.
The eggs of this species are from five to six in number, almost
spherical, and of a pure white color. Specimens from different
localities offer marked variations in size. Those from Florida are
smaller than more northern specimens, and measure 1.31 by 1.15 inches.
Xew England eggs average 1.49 by 1.31, and others from Pennsylvania and
New Jersey 1.35 inches in length, and 1.18 in width. On comparison with
some from Michigan and Iowa we can find but slight differences.
[Illustration: 292]
Plate XXXIV.--RALLUS VIRGINIANUS, Linn.--Virginia Rail.
|Of its delightful winter quarters in the South, and the tropical climes
of Guatemala and Cuba with their strange and varied forms of life, this
handsome little species takes its adieu when the climate in our
northern States warrants such a procedure, and spreads itself across
the continent to and slightly beyond our northernmost borders. With the
first slight frosts of November it takes its departure, to renew our
acquaintance again when the delicate-footed May has returned to beautify
the earth. These autumnal migrations are often performed during calm,
clear nights, when their cries can be distinctly heard overhead.
Persons, while "bobbing" for eels at night, have often been startled
from their contemplations by the alighting of Rails in the water
close-by, and the din produced as they paddle their way into the
adjoining weeds. Their departure is seemingly more sudden than their
advent, their appearance in diverse latitudes happening at regular
intervals. From their feebleness of wing, it might be conjectured
that flight is slow and labored, but experience teaches that it is
accomplished with comparative ease and freedom, even in the face of a
very strong wind. But these birds are best seen in the exercise of their
cursorial powers, which the perfect development of their legs and feet,
and the compressed, attenuated shape of the body are admirably adapted
to promote. Even the bill, with its sharpened outline, which is
wisely formed to cut the opposing air, lends its aid in facilitating
advancement.
Along the borders of salt marshes, but generally in fresh-water, it may
be fouud upon its arrival. In such places it is a busy gleaner,
feeding less upon vegetable, but more upon animal, diet than any of its
illustrious congeners. Its bill of fare consists of worms, the larvae
of insects, and small shell-fish, which it extracts from the mud, a feat
which it most successfully and adroitly accomplishes by means of its
great length of bill. This strong partiality to animal diet tends to
render its flesh less savory than that of the Carolina Rail whose food
is principally the nutritious seeds of various kinds of grasses. In the
dexterity with which it conceals itself among the reeds and sedges of
its favorite haunts when hunted, and its seeming aversion to flight, it
is the exact counterpart of the latter species. In fact there are few
traits of character which are not common to them both. When distance
intervenes between the observer and either species, it requires
considerable judgment to make the necessary discrimination. A little
experience, however, soon enables the working naturalist to do so
without much difficulty.
While chiefly diurnal in habits, there is good reason for believing all
Rails to be partially nocturnal, especially during moonlight nights.
At such times they are on the _qui vive_, and from the tall, motionless
bullrushes and reeds among which they harbor, the ear of the nightly
pedestrian is startled by the peculiar notes of these birds as they
pursue their gastronomic occupations, securely hidden from view by
interlacing grasses. The movements of these birds would hardly enable
you to locate their presence, so noiselessly are they executed. It is
to the loud, lusty _crik-crik-rik-k-k-k_ of some wide-awake fellow as
he patrols his favorite marshes that we are apprised of his whereabouts
and presence. Instantly the strain is taken up first by one and then
another, until the very reeds shake and tremble, as it were, under the
impulsive influence. A silence then ensues, which is unbroken save by
the heavy croaking of some disconsolate frog as he tunes his pipe to
the shrill falsetto of a love-lorn cricket. But the time thus spent is
comparatively short. Other considerations demand attention. Scarcely two
weeks from the time of their arrival, the males seek out their partners,
pledge their troth anew, and lead the way into some bog or morass, where
they are not long in making a selection of a suitable spot in which
to deposit their nest. In the matter of position the male yields due
deference to the judgment of his wife. She having decided upon the spot,
which may be either a tussock of grass, the bare ground, or a pile of
drift-weed, both birds set assiduously to work to construct their nest.
This is merely a pile of weeds or grass, arranged very compactly, but
with little display of taste or design, and hollowed out to the depth
of an inch and a half by the bodily evolutions of the builders.
Occasionally, a ground-floor of coarse grasses is laid, and upon this is
reared a superstructure of yellowish grasses, which reminds one of the
home which the Bobolink is accustomed to build. A few hours of labor at
least are all that are necessary to construct one of these domiciles.
Wilson mentions a nest that was placed in the bottom of a tuft of grass,
and rendered almost inaccessible by the boggy character of the locality.
It was composed entirely of old wet grass and rushes. A north-east storm
visiting the spot, and an extraordinary rise of tide following, the eggs
were floated out, and lay stranded upon the drift-weed. The female being
so strongly attached to her home, still lingered near, and permitted
herself to be taken by the hand, without showing so much as the least
timidity, much less any exhibition of indignation or disgust.
The number of eggs laid ranges from six to ten. These are deposited in
daily instalments of one, the first being usually extruded on the third
day subsequent to the completion of the nest. The female takes to the
nest almost immediately after the last egg is laid, and continues for a
term of fifteen days, when, through her constant, persevering efforts, a
little family of children, dressed in suits of blackish down, come forth
to gladden the hearts of both parents. The male seems to take no direct
part in the incubating process, not even so much as to see that his
faithful wife is not in want of food. The care of the young devolves
also upon her, and when they are endangered, she manifests the most
intense solicitude, and seeks by all the devices known to her nature, to
lead them into places of safety. Like many smaller, but more courageous
species, she is not known to wage a warfare in their defence, but
endeavors by strategy, and at the risk of her own life, to save these
jewels of her affection--these pledges of her regard--from the snares
of the fowler. As soon as hatched, or shortly afterwards, the young are
able to quit the nest, and hide themselves among the grass. Their food
consists of worms, insects and seeds of grasses, which they procure in
situations which they frequent. In their earliest stage the mother helps
them to find the essential articles, pretty much after the fashion of
the Quail, but as they grow, her responsibility is in a measure abated,
and they are left to their own resources. In about four or five weeks
they withdraw themselves from her sheltering care entirely, but continue
to dwell in the same haunts until the severity of the weather calls
them to warmer climes, when both young and old leave together. Their
departure is almost unheralded by vocal manifestions, and is slowly
executed, the birds stopping from their migrations, at times, to attend
to the demands for food. So the journey often requires a fortnight, and
even longer time, for its completion.
With the retiring habits of these birds, and their tendency to settle in
almost inaccessible meadows and swamps--the most secluded and farthest
recesses of which they seek when approached--it is not surprising that
they should be deemed less common than they are in actual reality. When
better understood they will be shown to be in other sections as abundant
breeders as they are in New England and the Middle Atlantic States.
When observed, which is rarely the case, they stand or run with the tail
erect. A peculiar jerking of this appendage upwards, is a noticeable
feature which gives them a somewhat comical appearance. In flight the
legs hang as is usual with waders, and are not tucked up, so to
speak, as in the case of our smaller land species. They fly to a short
distance, and at the moment of alighting, run off with remarkable speed,
a movement which the depending position of the feet enables them to
accomplish with comparative ease.
Such is the resemblance which obtains between the eggs of this species
and those of the Clapper Rail, that were it not for the much smaller
size of the former, they could not be readily discriminated therefrom.
In form, color and markings they are such perfect counterparts, that
they seem to be the same in miniature. Their form is ovoidal, and they
are marked with reddish-brown and obscure spots of lilac, the former
predominating, upon a deep buff, or creamy background. They vary
somewhat in dimensions, even in specimens from the same locality. In
New England eggs are found which range from 1.31 to 1.52 of an inch in
length, and from .90 to .95 in width. Others from Pennsylvania have an
average measurement of 1.28 by .94; from New Jersey, 1.20 by .95. From
the Carolina Rail, which they approach in size, they may be readily
distinguished by the color, a fact which all amateurs would do well to
bear in mind. A careful observance of the difference in the two grounds,
which in the Carolina Rail is a yellow-drab, with a faint olivaceous
tinge, will prevent the one from being mistaken for the other. In regard
to the number of broods annually raised there may be some difference of
opinion. Wilson thought that the species was double-brooded. He was led
to this opinion by having come into possession of young birds, a few
days old, in the month of July. But these may have been the first
hatching of birds whose early efforts had been prevented by tidal
overflows, or some other of the numerous disasters, which are the
natural concomitants of boggy situations.
The drawing represents a nest of this species, typical in character, and
placed in position. The eggs are of the natural size and figured in the
foreground, while the birds are diminished and put in the distance. The
birds are exhibited in proper colors, and may be easily identified. The
upper parts are olivaceous-brown, the monotony of which is relieved by
longitudinal stripes of brownish-black. The throat is white, fore-part
of the neck and breast bright-rufous, abdomen and under tail coverts
transversely banded with black and white, the former being the broader;
upper wing coverts bright rufous-chestnut and the under wing coverts
with transverse white lines upon a field of black. These sombre colors
are rendered less irksome by the presence of a reddish-white line from
the base of the bill over the eye, and by the bright-red iris. The
female differs but slightly from the male in being slightly shorter,
and in having the breast of a paler hue. The white on the chin and the
throat appears also to be more conspicuous and fuller. The total
length of the male, from tip of bill to extremity of tail, is seven and
three-quarter inches; the wing is four, and the tail about one and a
half.
[Illustration: 300]
Plate XXXV.--GEOTHLYPIS TRICHAS, (Linn.) Caban.--Maryland Yellow-Throat.
|Beautiful, active and intelligent, this species claims superiority over
most of its fellows, and is an object of interest and admiration to the
enthusiastic student. It should be better known among the masses, as few
birds are more sociable and confiding, and, on first appearance, none
display stronger attachment to man. It visits his fields and by-ways, in
company with the Sparrows, and makes itself at home. But as the season
advances, and the time of nesting draws near, such places are forsaken
for quieter retreats.
Throughout its extended range, which embraces the whole of the United
States from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada and Nova Scotia, and from the
Atlantic to the Western Ocean, it displays the same peculiar habits
which we observe in Eastern Pennsylvania. It combines the attributes of
the Titmice with those of the Flycatchers, moving in and out the foliage
and branches of bushes with great dexterity, sometimes hanging from the
latter with head downward, in its search for food, or, perched upon a
small twig, seizing a passing insect with equal ease and skill. Whilst
feeding it is not strictly arboreal. Individuals sometimes betake
themselves to the ground, and glean among the dead leaves.
Although occasionally found in cultivated grounds, where its presence is
due to the noxious insects which there abound, yet a stronger preference
is manifested for wild uncultivated fields, especially such as are
overgrown with briers and low bushes. Low lands are more attractive
than high, the tendency to humidity always insuring a greater supply
of favorite food-stuffs. Its immense service in the destruction of
injurious grubs, which contribute largely to its fare, would make it
a desirable companion to have about us, but its humble mode of life
exposes it to dangers from prowling cats and vicious boys.
When in quest of game its presence is always indicated by the peculiar
cry it emits, which resembles that of the Summer Yellow-Bird. These
notes are expressed in lively, quick succession, and sound like the
syllables _wht-whi-ti-têê-têë_. In a state of inactivity, a simple
_twich_ is all that escapes the hitherto agile creature, and is uttered
in such a low voice as to more than half impress the listener that the
bird is weary after its long, protracted search, or is verging towards
that state when the spirit is well-nigh overcome by sleep. It is during
these foraging exploits that our friend's character is seen in its best
light. It is not the timid bird that one is disposed to consider it when
watching its backward and forward movements among low shrubbery on such
occasions. It will permit a near approach by man, even when resting from
its labors, and displays not more than half the suspicion which birds
ordinarily do.
Like most Warblers, this species regulates its coming, in a measure, by
the character of the season. When the spring is early, we have known it
to arrive during the last of April. Ordinarily its appearance is noticed
from the first to the tenth of May. In California, where the climate is
more uniform than in the East, birds have been seen in migration on the
seventeenth of April; but in New England, where mild weather is
retarded by meteorological causes, their advent does not occur until the
beginning of the succeeding month. As is common with most other birds,
the sexes do not arrive singly, except in occasional instances, but
always in pairs, which seems to warrant the supposition that mating had
been solemnized in the land of their winter's sojourn preparatory to
leaving.
So little is the attention engrossed-by feeding, that the male does not
appear to be utterly unmindful of his partner, as is sometimes the case
with other species. Should one or the other stray away, the bird that
first becomes apprised of the separation, signals the fact, which is
instantly responded to by its companion. Directed by the sounds, they
soon come together, and renew operations as before.
A few weeks thus spent suffice to blunt the keen edge of appetite. The
male is the first to announce his weariness of such a life. In a few
quaint syllables, cognizant to his partner, and perhaps to some of his
nearest kin, he states his desire, and awaits her approach. Does she
hesitate? In the same lively and pleasing manner he repeats it, this
time with greater fullness and variation. Again and again he does the
same, and at last his efforts are crowned with success. Pleased with
his charming voice, she yields to his pertinacious coaxings, and desists
from her labors.
The song of the males, for _such_ naturalists have been pleased to
designate the language which the lords of the feathered creation are
prone to deliver to their intended partners on certain occasions, bears
a strong resemblance at first to the song of the Summer Yellow-Bird. But
when at its height, about the fifteenth of May, the likeness is not so
marked. It consists merely of a few short syllables, repeated rather
quickly but uniformly, and with a loud, clear, distinct and ringing
intonation. In syllabic language it may be somewhat accurately
represented by _têê-whit-ti-têë-whït-t'î-têë-whit-ti._
As fond as this species seems to be of cultivated grounds whilst
feeding, we have never known it, from personal observation, to build
in similar situations. For purposes of nesting it generally seeks the
retirement of woods where there is a dense growth of bushes, or waste
fields where brambles are quite abundant. Occasionally the nest occupies
the centre of a huge skunk-cabbage, or a tussock of grass, in the
midst of a swamp, or alongside of a stream of fresh water. In certain
localities moist places are chosen rather than elevated ones. In others
the converse is true. Even in the same locality, the birds manifest a
preference one year for lowlands, and the very next for those which are
high and dry. Perhaps the character of the season does much in rendering
these changes necessary. A wet spring, if long and protracted, would, by
increasing the amount of water in swampy situations above the average,
make them undesirable resorts, and thus drive the birds to the necessity
of seeking less humid and less exposed places. At such times, high
grounds, by obtaining more than the usual amount of moisture, would
become suited to the existence of insects, which form no mean part of
their living. In dry seasons, moist localities would be chosen, as they
are more advantageously situated for obtaining supplies of food than
others.
The nest is almost invariably placed upon the ground, in a thick bed of
dry leaves, in a clump of grass, at the roots of low bushes, or under
the shelter of a pile of brush, sometimes being covered by surrounding
leaves, and quite as often exposed from above. When built directly
upon the ground, it occupies a depression thereof; but when built in
a tussock, this precaution is not taken, as the necessary security is
afforded by the enveloping grasses or sedges. According to Dr. Brewer,
nests are occasionally found four or five feet from the ground, among
the matted branches of high weeds. A typical nest consists of loose
leaves on the outside, which are held in position by the walls of the
cavity in which they are placed, or by surrounding grasses. Within is
placed a superstructure of dry grasses, twigs, strips of dry bark, and
leaves of sedges. The lining consists of fine strips of the bark of the
chestnut and wild grape vine, which are arranged with great care and
compactness. In depth these structures vary from five to six inches,
and have an external diameter of two and a half inches at the base, and
three at the mouth. The cavity is usually three inches deep, and about
two and a quarter wide. When we come to compare the entire fabric
with the size of the builder, we are at a loss to account for the
disproportion.
The work of building such a bulky domicile does not fall to the lot
of the female solely, but is the result of the combined labor of both
birds, who prosecute their task with commendable diligence and patience
for a period of five days, when they are rewarded with the sight of
a finished home. Nothing now remains to be done but to furnish the
capacious apartment with its wee, spotted treasures. This cannot be
commenced immediately, as sufficient time must be allowed for the walls
to become properly seasoned. Two or three days at the utmost are all
that are necessary. On the fourth day the female deposits her first
jewel, and, where not interrupted, renews the same duty day by day,
until she has furnished her allotted quota. She immediately commences
the incubating process, occasionally not before the succeeding day,
and for ten long days is thus engaged, when the appearance of the young
reminds her that the labor is ended. While thus employed the male,
actuated by the purest affection, administers to her necessities with
commendable alacrity. He only forsakes her for food. When the nest is
assailed, by the most pitiful cries and the practise of various ruses,
he endeavors to lead his enemies away from it. His stratagems often
succeed with the unsophisticated, but with the professional collector
they are of little avail.
The young are carefully nurtured. Their food consists of the larvæ of
small beetles, caterpillars of various kinds, and diptera. At the age of
twelve days they are able to leave the nest, but remain under parental
surveillance for a week longer, when they are obliged to shift for
themselves, being permitted, however, to enjoy the society of their
parents. Early in September, both young and old take their departure,
the greater portion retiring to Mexico, Guatemala and the West Indies,
while a few remain along our southern borders.
The plumage of the young bird is brownish-olive above, with a tendency
to stronger virescence on the rump and tail. The eyelids and entire
lower parts are a light buff, which is relieved by a tinge of yellow on
breast and lower tail-coverts. The male in the spring is olive-green,
somewhat grayer anteriorly, and has the forehead and a broad band
through the eye to the neck a pure black, margined superiorly with
grayish-ash. The chin, throat, breast, under tail-coverts and edge of
wing bright yellow, passing into whitish in the abdominal region. The
wings and tail are slightly olive, and devoid of marks. The bill is
black, and the feet flesh-colored. In the female, during the same
season, the crown is generally brownish, the black and ash on the head
wanting, and the yellow of the under parts pale and restricted. From its
congeneric brethren this species differs in the absence of a clear ash
upon the throat. Its length is about four and three-fourths inches, wing
two and one-fifth, and tail two and three-tenths.
The eggs of the Yellow-Throat range from four to six in number, the
complement doubtless depending upon locality, and the peculiarity of the
female. In Eastern Pennsylvania, Southern New Jersey and Delaware
never more than four have been found in a nest, and this has been the
experience of others from even the most widely separated localities.
In color the eggs are a beautiful crystalline-white, and are dotted and
blotched around the larger extremity with reddish-brown and dark umber.
Specimens are often found with curiously-shaped lines and dashes of
remarkable fineness. Their size varies with latitude, the largest coming
from Kansas, and the smallest from Georgia. The average measurement
of several sets from four different localities is .04 by .53 inches.
We incline to the opinion that but a single brood is annually raised,
although there may be instances where more than one has been observed.
In most cases, where the birds have been late in rearing their young,
the hasty collector, and even recorder of facts, may conclude that he
has a sure proof of his position. Careful watching, carried through
a decade, has convinced us that in Philadelphia the species is
single-brooded. Like most of our smaller birds, the nest of this species
does not escape the visits of the Cowbird, who, taking advantage of the
absence of its owners, embraces the opportunity of depositing two of her
own eggs, which she trusts the female Yellow-Throat will adopt and rear
as her own.
[Illustration: 308]