|This well-known species inhabits the eastern portions of the United
States from the Atlantic to the Rocky Mountains, being replaced in the
territory west of the great central plains by a well-marked variety.
In the British Provinces it has not been observed to attain a higher
northern range than Nova Scotia. Although rather common in the maritime
portions of its somewhat extended habitat, yet it is less so than in
regions farther inland.
Being a permanent resident among us, there is no reason why the
enthusiastic lover of birds should not render himself familiar with its
history. In its own native haunts, notwithstanding, the shyness which
seems to characterize its nature, ample opportunities are afforded.
From early morning until sunset, except when concerned with domestic
relations, but more especially during the season when winter rules the
year, its presence may be seen and heard.
When first noticed, its peculiar winding movements around the trunks and
branches of trees, in every conceivable direction and position, cannot
fail to rivet the attention, and excite surprise. It recalls to mind
many of the motions which the smaller Woodpeckers and Titmice assume. To
a novice a word of explanation as to the cause thereof may be necessary.
But to one who has been accustomed to using his eyes and ears aright,
the solution to the problem soon becomes apparent. The loud, sonorous
tap against the hardened bark, and the listening attitude which the
bird takes on, are the key to the mystery. Let but the stir of some
hibernating insect, or the perforations of an undermining grub, be
heard, and in almost the twinkling of an eye, its whereabouts is
discovered, and the thoughtless culprit dragged out and made to pay the
penalty of an inglorious death for such rashness. Quite as often the
detection of food is due to the keen vision which these birds possess as
to that of a well-trained ear, for in their persistent and indefatigable
searchings in crack and crevice, the most apparently lifeless beetle, or
even the death-like ovum of the same, does not escape their scrutinizing
gaze.
Should the reader, in his rural walks, visit the haunts of the
Nuthatches, it is more than likely that his presence would be greeted by
the strong nasal cry of _honk-honk_, which these birds are accustomed to
emit, at somewhat regular intervals, while foraging. Not that they adopt
this method of accosting their human brethren upon such occasions, but
what we mean is, that the birds will be heard, in most instances, before
there are any bodily manifestations. Even after one has located with
tolerable precision the tree from which emanated the sounds, a few
minutes will generally elapse before the authors thereof are clearly
outlined against the dark background of the bark. To insure success,
without waste of time, the eyes should be directed upward, as the middle
and higher branches of the tallest trees are usually chosen for the
purposes of feeding, the lowermost being seldom resorted to.
Besides the larvæ of beetles, mature forms of elaters and buprestians
constitute a large share of their winter diet. As winter lapses into
spring, and there is a consequent increase in the numbers, as well as
kinds of insects, their bill of fare is enlarged, certain new species of
coleoptera and a few ants being added thereto. When the tulip-tree is in
blossom in May, many may be seen delving into its floral treasures for
the numerous small insects which are attracted thither. Earlier, the
cone-like fruit is visited, and rifled of its samara-shaped seeds. By
some writers it is claimed that, like its European congener, our species
collects and stores away the fruits of nut-bearing trees. This is an
undisputed fact, as different species of acorns have been seen securely
wedged in between the bark and outer woody layers of trees, and
Nuthatches in positions as to lead to the suspicion that they had placed
them there. In fine, birds have been seen engaged in this identical
business.
Their favorite food being insects, in all their different stages, where
abundance of them exist they seldom stray for any considerable distance
from their accustomed woods during the breeding-season. When snow or ice
debars them from access to the trunk and branches of trees, they have
been known to visit houses and out-buildings for the requisite food, and
even to hunt among the leaves upon the ground of sheltered localities
for the seeds of plants. Ordinarily dry, high thickets are preferred to
the noise and bustle of human life. It is chiefly at such times that the
sexes part company, and seem engrossed by the most selfish feelings.
While remarkably fond of the joys of the table, as evidenced by the
industry and perseverance with which they pursue their gastronomic
exploits, they are not so thoroughly epicurean in their lives as to
forget the claims of affection. Their devotion to each other is
nearly unbounded, and is scarcely excelled, if at all, by that which
characterizes our smaller Titmice. This feeling of love, as is natural
to suppose, cannot fail to lead to an early assumption of conjugal
relations. Accordingly we find that preparations for this work are
entered into early. About the time that the Warblers are beginning
to make the woods and fields lively with their exhilarating songs
and diversions, these loving, sympathetic beings, already mated, are
beginning to look themselves out a home. Like the Woodpeckers and
Chickadees, they sometimes excavate a hole in the decayed trunk or
branch of a forest-tree, or in the solid wood itself. Usually, however,
they search for one already prepared, either in the trunk of a tree, in
the creviced wall of an out-building, or in a hollow rail in a fence.
In any event, more or less work of construction is necessary. When the
labor of excavation has commenced, the birds work by turns. The one not
thus occupied waits upon its mate, and carries out the chips that are
made, to a safe distance from the nest. The cavities thus made vary in
depth, some being not more than ten inches deep, while others are nearly
one and a half feet. The entrance thereto is generally wide enough to
admit of easy entrance, but towards the bottom the cavity expands into
a sort of room. In the North these chambers are lined with warm and soft
materials, such as hair, feathers, wool, down and fur, which are loosely
thrown together. Audubon affirms that they build no nest, which may
have been true in his day, but the statement is not borne out by recent
observations. A nest in the writer's collection, from the South, offers
no material variation from specimens from the most northern localities.
In the selection of a cavity the birds sometimes make mistakes, as
instanced by E. W. Nelson, Esq., in his valuable pamphlet on the Birds
of Northeastern Illinois. In this case the Nuthatches had selected
for nesting purposes a knot hole in a large oak, at a height of about
twenty-five feet from the ground. The hole was large enough to admit the
human hand, and several inches in depth. Within were the remnants of a
squirrel's nest, which nearly filled the cavity. After working steadily
for about a week until the nest was nearly ready for occupancy, a pair
of flying-squirrels, the previous owners of the hollow, seized the
premises, and the birds, despondent and aggrieved, were compelled to
move elsewhere. Had these patient little builders been aware of the
method which their European cousin adopts to keep out unfriendly
intruders--namely, that of plastering up the entrance to their nest, and
thus contracting the opening, they would have been spared the pains of
seeing their nearly furnished compartment occupied by creatures of the
remotest kinship.
By the first of May, or thereabouts, the female commences to deposit her
complement of six eggs, which she does in as many consecutive days. She
now immediately enters upon the process of incubation, and after twelve
days of close sitting, brings forth her tender brood. All the time
that she is thus occupied, the male is very assiduous in his efforts to
lighten her cares and solace her ennui. He supplies her with food,
and when released from such labor, spends the most of his time in the
vicinity of the nest. A score of times during the course of the day,
perhaps, she is summoned to the mouth of the hole to receive some choice
hit of food, or the endearments and caresses of her idolizing partner.
At the approach of danger he does not desert her, but fearlessly
intervenes to give the necessary warning. If the nest is disturbed, his
quiet, peaceable disposition will not suffer him to make the slightest
defence. His only object seems to reach some place of safety, from
which, when attained, he can survey the contemplated demolition. With
the female the case is different. So strongly attached to her home
is she, that she is not prone to leave it, even under the most trying
circumstances. A case is cited by Maynard of a nest having been found
in a partially decayed apple-tree by Mr. Brewster. In order to effect an
entrance for the hand, and thus secure the female, the latter gentleman
was compelled to enlarge the opening. The bird struggled vigorously to
escape, but when liberated, returned at once to her eggs. Several times
was she taken out, and as often re-entered her domicile the moment she
was at large.
Both parents are strongly attached to the young, and provide them with
an abundance of healthy food, of a somewhat varied character, which they
receive, soon after they are hatched, by climbing to the opening of the
nest. This food consists chiefly, at first, of different kinds of grubs;
but after the first week, beetles and ants are fed, and relished with a
gusto. When about two weeks old they venture out upon the trunk to try
their legs and claws, while their wings are acquiring development and
strength, but retire to the nest when the weather is unpleasant, and at
nights. A few days more, and they are prepared to earn their own living,
after the peculiar fashion of the race.
Young male birds do not immediately put on the plumage of the paternal
sire, and it is probable that this condition is not attained until the
following spring. In the fall they resemble the mother, who differs from
her lord only in having the black of the head glossed with ashy. The
latter is ashy-blue above, with top of head and neck black. The under
parts, and sides of the head to a brief space above the eye, are white.
The under tail-coverts, as well as tibial feathers, are brown, while
the concealed primaries are white. The bill is rather long, stout
and awlshaped. The length is six inches, and the wing about three and
three-quarters.
The eggs have a white ground in blown specimens, but when fresh they
show a beautiful roseate tinge, with a tendency to a reddish hue, which
is apparently due to the ferruginous and purplish spots and blotches
with which they are so closely covered. Considerable variations of size
prevail in these markings, from fine points to well-pronounced blotches,
and there is also noticeable a predominance of the reddish-brown colors.
The average dimensions of several sets before us, from half a dozen
localities, are .80 by .62 inches. Single specimens may occasionally be
found which, like Mr. Samuels's Adirondack specimen, may have a length
of .70 of an inch, and a width of .57, but such are certainly abnormal
productions. While the rule in our Northern States seems to be,
according to the concurrent testimony of numerous writers, but a
single brood annually, yet there is reason to believe that in the
warm, semi-tropical sections of our country, the species may prove
double-brooded.
Whether our species could ever be domesticated or not, it is impossible
to say. But there is no doubt that, under similar circumstances, the
same confiding tameness would be shown, as the interesting descriptions
given in English works tell us is exhibited by the European species. The
latter, we are told, when treated with kindness, will come regularly to
be fed. Individuals have been known to approach within a foot of their
benefactor, and even to capture bits of food thrown to them before the
latter could have time to reach the ground.
[Illustration: 316]
Plate XXXVII.--MELEAGRIS GALLOPAVO VAR. AMERICANA, (Bartr.) Coues.--Wild
Turkey.
|A few years more this handsome bird, which was at one time found in
great abundance over nearly the whole of the Eastern Province of the
United States, will be numbered with the things that were. Its final
extinction is only a question of time, and that not very remote. In the
days of Audubon it was found along the entire range of the Alleghanies,
where individuals do still exist, but they have been so molested by
man, that they can only be approached with the greatest difficulty. At
present they are quite abundant in the unsettled parts of our Southern
and Western States, and in the regions drained by the Mississippi and
Missouri rivers. In New England it has probably become extinct. The same
may doubtless be predicated of portions of our Middle Atlantic States.
To be sure there are localities where individuals may occasionally be
observed, but with the construction of railroads, and the settlement
of the country which invariably follows, we may expect the same fate to
overtake them. Dr. Woodhouse met with the species in abundance in all
the timbered portions of Texas and the Indian Territory, and Mr. Dresser
found it common enough in the districts of Mexico and Texas which he
visited. This was especially the case on the rivers between San Antonio
and the Rio Grande.
Not migratory in the sense in which many of our smaller species are, yet
these birds are addicted to roaming from one locality to another. These
movements always occur in flocks of varying numbers, and have reference
to food-matters. Where the supply of mast becomes exhausted, an advance
is ordered towards richer pastures. If there is an abundance of food,
the large flocks dissolve into smaller ones, composed of individuals of
all ages and sexes. A paucity of the same, brought about by deep snows,
induces the birds to approach the haunts of man, where they obtain a
subsistence by consorting with the poultry, or by entering the open
doors of corn-cribs.
When the young are nearly grown, in October, the adult females--which
dwell apart from their lords, each at the head of her numerous
family--gather in the rich bottom-lands of our Western rivers. These
families unite with others, until parties of seventies and eighties are
the final results. The old males associate in parties of from twenty to
a hundred, and move simultaneously into the same territories, but are
carefully avoided by the mother-birds, on account of the hatred which
the former bear towards their nearly grown children. This un parental
disposition, which leads the males to destroy their offspring, is more
especially vented upon the young males, and is doubtless inspired by
jealousy.
The migration are mostly made on foot. But when a stream intervened; a
stay of one or two days upon its banks occurs before any attempt is made
to cross. The manouvres of the old males are then rather ludicrous.
They parade themselves up and down the banks, utter to each other
their characteristic gobble, as if to raise their courage to the point
necessary to surmount the barrier. The females and the young assume
in less degree the same demeanor. After this lengthy preparation, both
young and old mount to the summit of a tall tree, and at the leader's
signal, wing their flight for the opposite shore. Some, however,
overcome by fatigue, drop into the water. These, with wings
close-pressed to the body and expanded tail, call their legs into
vigorous action, and soon gain the shore, where they are at length able
to extricate themselves from the perilous situation. If the stream
is wide, the birds are often thrown into a state of bewilderment, and
become easy victims to the hunter's rifle. Advantage is not only
taken of these movements, but from the fact that the birds are hard to
approach in the daytime, many a gunner by watching where they roost,
on clear, moonlight evenings is often able to secure two or three plump
fellows for his trouble. Like our domestic Turkey, these birds roost on
trees as high up as possible. Various contrivances are often adopted to
lure them to their destruction. In the spring, a very common practise is
to imitate the voice of the female by drawing the air through one of the
wing-joints, the second usually, the sound produced being immediately
answered by the male, who ventures out of his place of concealment, only
to be shot. The cry of the Barred Owl is also imitated in localities
which these birds frequent at night, with the most happy results. A trap
known as a Turkey-pen is a very common mode of capture in some parts of
the country. This is a covered enclosure, made of small trees of various
sizes and of moderate heights. At one end a small opening is left,
through which is dug a slight trench, sloping gradually from each
extremity to the centre, and continued outwardly for a brief space. For
a short distance from the enclosure a passage-way is constructed. This,
with the interior of the pen, and a narrow tract of land stretching into
the forest, is scattered with corn. Attracted by the grain, the birds
follow it into the enclosure, and when once there, become bewildered,
or lack the intelligence necessary to make their exit. While in this
predicament, many are captured. .
But as the love-season approaches, man abandons the amusements of the
chase, and these severely persecuted creatures are allowed a chance to
cultivate social relations. Early in February the males present their
suits, but at first meet with little favor. Still they persist, until
their patience is rewarded with success. When these amours commence,
the sexes are dwelling apart. If a call is emitted by a perching female
within hearing of a male, a response is returned in a voice akin to the
sounds with which our domestic bird greets any ordinary noise. But let
the female utter the same note while on the ground, and she is soon
besieged by several of her masculine admirers, each striving to
demonstrate the sincerity of his affection. With wide-spread, erected
tails, depressed and quivering wings, and head gracefully poised and
carried well back upon the shoulders, they parade themselves with great
pomp in front of the females, who regard such movements, for the nonce,
with listlessness or disfavor. All the while the males are thus engaged,
they give expression to their feelings in a succession of peculiar
puffs. Considerable excitement often attends these love-affairs.
Especially is this the case when some hitherto listless female becomes
impressed with the pleadings of a particular male. This is the signal
for the fiercest encounters, which usually result in some one or more
of the participants being killed. When one rival has thus destroyed
another, the surviving party, as if feeling remorse, caresses the fallen
one with the ten derest affection.
Having mated, the union thus formed usually lasts during the season,
although instances are recorded where the same male has been known to
possess more than one partner. The female is endued with finer feelings
than her lord and, when concerned with domestic relations, continues to
keep her treasures hid, well knowing the propensity which he manifests
for destroying the same. Consequently, the selection and building of
a nest fall exclusive to her lot. At the close of the love-season, the
males cease to gobble, and being considerably emaciated, desert the
females, and go off by themselves. When they have recuperated their
energies, they return, and reunite in small flocks.
About the middle of April the females prepare their nests in secluded
localities. These are placed upon the ground, and consist of a few dry
leaves placed in a depression by the side of a prostrate log, under a
mass of brushwood in a thicket, within the precincts of a corn-brake,
or in such places as afford the necessary shelter. Dry spots are always
selected. Suited with locality, the female deposits her eggs daily
until the entire complement is raised, when she enters the nest, and for
nearly four weeks is a close sitter. When she leaves it for food, she
always takes the precaution to cover her eggs with leaves, to guard
against detection. Small islands are frequently chosen for nesting
purposes. The large masses of driftwood which accumulate about their
heads, are said to give them security from their numerous enemies.
So closely attached to home is the female, that she will not leave it
unless in peril. The approach of human footsteps is unheeded, where no
danger is to be apprehended. Its discovery by man is not considered as
sufficient cause for desertion, but she is known to forsake it when
the egg's have been broken. In such cases another nest is prepared, but
otherwise only one brood is annually raised. The most friendly feelings
are known to exist among the females during the breeding-season. Several
hens have been known to deposit their eggs in the same nest, and rear
their broods together. Audubon once met with forty-two eggs in a single
nest, the labors of three females, one of whom being always on guard.
When the eggs are nearly hatched, the female remains a very vigilant
watcher, and will leave the nest under no circumstances. In short, she
has often permitted herself to be captured rather than endanger her
treasures. Weak, delicate creatures as the young are, it is doubtful
that they could extricate themselves from their calcareous coverings,
were it not for the timely efforts of the parent. Not only in this
manner does she show her love, but also by fondling and drying them, and
assisting them to leave the nest. Her cares are now quite manifold.
She must needs lead them into suitable feeding pastures, teach them to
distinguish good from bad food, and protect them from enemies. Besides,
she is careful to keep them from getting wet, which is detrimental to
their early lives. At the age of two weeks, they follow the mother with
facility, roost upon the same bough with her at night, and seek their
food in the daytime. Their diet at first consists of small berries of
different kinds, and insects. To this somewhat restricted bill of fare,
grass, corn, seeds, fruit, beetles, tadpoles and lizards are added, as
they weekly mature. The dry leaves of the woods are turned over with
their feet, for they are somewhat rasorial in their habits. Like their
parents, the young are able to go for several days without food, which
is occasionally the case after a heavy fall of snow. At such times, in
the unsettled parts of our country, both young and old associate with
domesticated birds, when quarrels often ensue, which chiefly result in
favor of the former. Attempts to tame these birds have been made, but
with only partial success. Under confinement birds are apt to lose the
brilliancy of their plumage in the third generation, and display in
places an intermingling of white feathers throughout the pale brown
which they then assume. In the cut accurate representations of the sexes
appear, the female differing from the male in being of smaller size, in
having less brilliant colors, in the much smaller fleshy protuberance
above the base of the bill, and in the absence usually of the pencil
of bristles on the breast, and of spur. From the Mexican variety--the
supposed parent of the tame species--it differs in having the upper
tail-coverts chestnut, but without the light tips, and in having the
ends of the tail feathers scarcely paler, instead of brownish-yellow
or whitish. The male bird ranges from forty-eight to fifty inches in
length, and weighs from sixteen to thirty-five pounds. The wing is
twenty-one inches long, and the tail eighteen and a half. The female is
smaller proportionally, and weighs about thirteen pounds.
The eggs are usually from eight to fifteen in number, but sometimes
amount to eighteen, and even twenty. They are of an elongate oval form,
obtuse at one extremity, and pointed at the other. Their ground-color is
a dark cream, and there are pretty generally scattered over the surface
rounded spots of umber-brown. In dimensions they are apt to differ,
even in the same nest-full. Specimens vary from 2.25 to 2.58 inches in
length, and from 1.74 to 1.89 in width. In no portion of its habitat
is the species other than single-brooded, although nests with eggs
are occasionally found in June, but these are due to delays caused by
various contingencies.
[Illustration: 324]
Plate XXXVIII.--CHÆTURA PELASGICA, (Linn.) Baird.--Chimney Swift.
|This species chiefly confines its migrations to the eastern portions
of North America, from the Atlantic westward to the eastern base of the
Rocky Mountains, and northward to the 50th parallel of latitude. In the
fur-bearing countries it is probably a stranger, as no mention is made
of it by Dr. Richardson in his explorations. Mr. Say met with it at
Pembina, on the Red River, in Northern Minnesota; Mr. Allen, in great
abundance, in Kansas; but it is doubtful as to its occurrence in New
Mexico, notwithstanding the high authority of Dr. Woodhouse, as later
observers are silent upon the subject. It has also been claimed by
the last-mentioned traveler as being found in parts of Texas, but Mr.
Dresser was unable to take it, and it does not appear that it has ever
been met with by the naturalists of any of our Western expeditions.
The accounts given by early writers of its presence along the Pacific
region, it is now decided, pertain not to this species, but to a
distinct and closely allied one. Respecting its winter-quarters we are
in the dark. It is not likely that it remains in any portion of the
United States during the autumnal and brumal months, not to any great
extent, if it does at all, as it has been observed by Allen entering
Florida during the latter days of March. Lawrence, Salvin and Sclater,
as well as other writers of note on the birds of Mexico, Central America
and the West Indies, make no mention of it. Its southern journey usually
occurs about the middle of September, seldom later, and is performed
with so much silence and suddenness, that we are only made aware of
the vacancy which their departure has produced, by the missing of their
confused yet pleasant chatterings at morn and night.
Their vernal advent is marked with the same quietness, and is as much a
source of mystery and surprise.
Upon its arrival in the United States late in March, it diffuses itself
in various directions throughout the country, reaching the Central and
Northern States about the middle of April usually, but, sometimes, when
the season has been very much retarded, not before the beginning of the
following month. Its entrance into Canada is not looked for until near
the close of April--the birds apparently timing their movements with the
sun's northward advancement. From Virginia to Canada, along the Atlantic
seaboard, and the same is true of our Western States, where the presence
of man is seen and felt, these dusky denizens of the air are wont to
take up their abode. The chimneys of our houses, especially those that'
are not called into constant requisition, afford them convenient and
comfortable quarters. So accustomed to their odd little ways and notions
have we become, that on each recurrence of the breeding-season we
naturally look for their coming with as much interest and pleasure as to
that of a long absent friend. Their jolly, sociable disposition wins our
regard and esteem, and has so completely interwoven their fortunes with
our own, that their loss would be keenly felt and universally bewailed.
In habits they are widely different from their trans-Atlantic brethren,
who display considerable shyness, and breed in caves, or ruined or
deserted dwellings.
Since the occupancy of this country by civilized beings, a most
wonderful change has been effected in their behavior. Their primitive
breeding places have been exchanged for the cosy, soot-begrimmed
chimney. To be sure there are localities where breeding is still carried
on in hollow trees as of yore, but such places are now but occasionally
occupied in the older parts of the country, and merely for roosting
purposes. In certain portions of New Brunswick, according to Mr. George
A. Boardman, birds still nest in decayed tree-hollows. Even where
chimneys are to be found individuals have been known to select places
remote therefrom. The writer last mentioned once met with a nest that
was built against a board in an old log-house. It was not the lack of a
chimney that conduced to this peculiar deviation, as we are led to
infer of the existence of one somewhat remotely situated from what that
observer says. Where there is no danger to be apprehended from enemies,
a position like the one described, affords the requisite advantages. In
buildings that are freely used by man, persistence in this habit might
be attended with results, which would be escaped by nidification in
chimneys. In Southeastern Illinois Mr. Ridgway discovered a nest in a
hollow sycamore-tree, and also another securely fastened to a plank of
an out-building. Mr. Allen met it in Kansas, breeding in hollow trees,
for which it seemed to manifest a decided preference. In long-settled
sections the species has been forced by circumstances to resort to
chimneys, or else abandon the country. In but a single instance have we
known from actual experience the nest to be built against the rafter of
a deserted out-building.
Nesting usually commences within a week after the birds have reached the
accustomed haunts. Whether mating is accomplished preparatory to leaving
their southern homes, or subsequent thereto, we are not prepared to
assert, but incline to the belief that they arrive already paired, since
we have never been able to observe the sexes engaged in their amours.
Perhaps these are performed within the sheltering walls of the flues
which they choose for their homes. The labor of nest-building requires
the united efforts of the builders for three days. The structure is a
rather curious and remarkable affair. Its composition consists of small
twigs, nearly uniform in dimensions, which are severed from the living
branches of trees, by the birds while upon wing, with considerable
dexterity and adroitness. They sweep upon the coveted twig much after
the fashion of a hawk in rushing upon its prey. These twigs are fastened
to each other by the saliva of the builders, and by the same cement the
entire fabric is made to adhere to the side of the chimney in which
it is placed. This saliva, after a slight exposure, hardens into a
glue-like material, which becomes as firm as the branches it joins
together. In separating these nests from their reposing surfaces we
have even known fragments of the bricks to give way, rather than the
cementing substance. When rendered moist by long-continued rains, they
often become precipitated to the bottom of the chimney solely by the
weight of their own contents. In such emergencies the young cling with
considerable tenacity to the chimney-side by means of bill and claw.
In configuration the nest resembles a neat, semi-circular basket, and
measures about three and a half inches in diameter, one and a half
in width, and about one in depth. Some are found to exceed the above
dimensions, and others to fall considerably short of them. Building
operations are ordinarily entered into during the early morning
hours while the air is cool, the birds then working with praiseworthy
diligence, but seldom during the hot, summer noontide. All the time the
work is going on the builders are the happiest of creatures, and judging
from the continual chatter which they make, there is never an angry word
spoken, nor a quarrel indulged in with each other, or with any of their
near neighbors who occupy the same chimney. Their lives seem to be as
gay and felicitous as the days are long.
A few days elapse after the completion of the fabric, not usually more
than two, in which mutual congratulations are passed. Then comes the
drama in which the female is the principal actor--namely, the laying of
the eggs. This requires four days, in ordinary instances, one egg being
deposited daily. Incubation then succeeds, and lasts for eleven days.
Here the female displays her true motherly instinct. She enters the
nest, and with unwearied perseverance continues thereon, save during
brief intervals of absence in quest of food, until she has achieved
her heart's desire. The male is said to relieve her, but if such is the
case, we have never been a witness of the fact. But while keeping aloof
from such fatiguing duty, he is nevertheless a very faithful and devoted
father when the young have quit their narrow prison-houses and welcomed
the light of a new life. He is now as solicitous for their safety and
well-being as the mother, and in case of molestation, unites his cries
with hers to frighten away the intruder, or to cause him to desist
from any assault he may have in contemplation. When twelve days old the
little Swifts are able to climb to the summit of the chimney and
receive their food. This always occurs a few days before their wings are
sufficiently developed for flight. Even while quite young, in case of
accident to the nest, they are able to make their way to the top of the
chimney. In some cases they are carried beyond the reach or notice of
their parents. When such occur they stubbornly refuse, human assistance,
although uttering the most pitiful cries of hunger. When placed upon the
roof contiguous to their native chimney, Dr. Brewer has known them
to descend to its base, and there receive parental attention. In a
fortnight they leave the nest, and are able to care for themselves. As
this species is double-brooded in Pennsylvania the young are necessarily
forced to self-maintenance at an early age, the thoughts of the
parents being engrossed with preparations for a second family. These
arrangements are perfected about the middle of June. In New England, and
further north, but one brood is raised.
Like the old birds, the young are crepuscular rather than nocturnal in
their habits, preferring to hunt for their prey early in the morning
and late in the afternoon, or during cloudy weather. At times these
predatory excursions occur at noonday in the broad glare of a full-orbed
sun. The period for hunting is apparently regulated by the abundance or
scarcity of appropriate insects. The adult birds, when with young,
have often been known to protract their search for food long after
night-fall. Caterpillars, diptera, beetles and lepidoptera of various
kinds, constitute their _menu_, vast numbers of injurious, as well
as beneficial species, being destroyed. Mature insects are chiefly in
demand, which the birds, from being constantly on the wing, procure
without much difficulty. Their flight then is varied and difficult of
description. It consists of rapid sailing, and divers turnings, with
occasional quickly repeated strokes of the wings. They never rest except
in their roosting-places, to the walls of which they cling with great
tenacity, being partially supported by their rigid tails. When tired of
flight, they seek their homes, which they enter by falling headforemost,
without any apparent concern. Their only note in these gastronomic
explorations is a simple _chip_, uttered with considerable force, and at
times so quickly, as to give rise to a confused twittering.
In the days of Wilson these birds were known, in the more unsettled
parts of the country, to repose in large hollow trees, which were
open at the top. Swallow Trees, as these roosting-places were commonly
designated by country people, were fancifully supposed to be the
winter-quarters of the Swifts, where, in vast heaps, they slept away the
winter in a condition of torpidity, and whence, on the return of spring,
they came forth to enliven us with their animated expressions. But in
the present enlightened age, the intelligent take no stock in these
statements, but consign such rubbish to the domain of oblivion. With
the ignorant and superstitious it is different. They are invested
with peculiar charms, which make them matters of pleasant reflection.
Attempts have recently been made to revive these beliefs, but with slim
chances of success. An instance may occur where some hapless individual
has been left behind by his companions, and been forced to seek
protection from the inclemency of the season in the cavities of trees,
as the result of a sad emergency, which the vivid imagination of some
visionary person might magnify into a hundred birds, but of such a case,
we have no authentic knowledge.
For the benefit of those of our readers who have never examined these
birds closely, but only while in flight, we shall mention a few of the
characters by which they are readily distinguished by the real student
of Nature. The same description will apply to the female as to the male,
as her resemblance in plumage is so strong as to baffle the critical eye
of the systematist to point out any well-marked distinctions. Both birds
have a sooty-brown dress, which, however, is not uniform. The throat,
from the breast to the bill, is considerably lighter than the general
color, the rump a trifle paler, while above there is a slight greenish
cast. Their length is five and a quarter inches, wing five and
one-tenth, and tail two and three-twentieths.
The eggs of these birds are somewhat elliptical, rather less obtuse at
one extremity than the other. Their ground is a pure, unspotted white,
and in dimensions they vary but little. The average measurement from
five localities is .77 by .52 inches.
[Illustration: 332]
Plate XXXIX.--OXYECHUS VOCIFERUS, (Linn.) Reich.--Killdeer.
|The above species is one of the most abundant, the most widely
distributed, as well as the best known of all our Plovers. It is
a denizen of the whole of temperate North America, where suitable
localities abound, and, unlike the most of its kin, breeds pretty
generally in the United States. Throughout the Missouri region, and
even as far west as Salt Lake, Utah, it has been observed by parties
connected with the different exploring expeditions of the National
Government. It is found in the West Indies, and in the fall extends its
migrations into Central and South America, where it passes the winter.
These journeys are chiefly performed at night, not quietly, however,
but with considerable clamor. In the time of Wilson it never entirely
deserted the United States during the season of snow and ice, but
retired to the seashore, where it managed to eke out an existence. No
sooner had the rivers been released from their icy fetters than their
shrill cries would be heard as they wended their way high overhead, or
nestled among the partially submerged meadows that lined their banks.
This was mainly the case in the South Atlantic States, where, amid the
rice-fields they were to be seen in February and March.
With the return of mild weather our Southern friends, having their
ranks possibly swollen by fresh accessions from sunnier climes, diffuse
themselves over the higher latitudes. While some remain in the vicinity
of the sea, and establish their homes in dry, sandy fields, the
majority, as though tired of its wearisome monotone, strike for the
interior, and lay claim to a piece of newly ploughed ground, or to some
low stretch of laud, devoid of vegetation, and covered with shallow
pools. Their arrival in the old haunts generally dates from the
twentieth of April to about the middle of May, and is quite true to time
in any given locality. For a short time subsequent thereto the sexes
are concerned with the procurement of food, and may be observed wading
knee-deep in the water of gravelly brooks and sandy streams for aquatic
insects which contribute largely to their maintenance. While fond of
such pursuits, the inclination to bathe within the limpid element to
which they resort, is one which they cannot very well resist, for these
ablutions are of frequent daily occurrence, and are enjoyed with great
satisfaction. When disengaged from such occupations, they squat upon the
ground, or stand erect upon both legs. If disturbed they seek to escape
by running, or by vigorous application of the wings. Their alarm, on
these occasions, is best shown by the peculiar cries of _killdeer,
kildeer_ which they emit. These expressions are sometimes varied to _te
te de dit_, or simply _te dit_.
When the sexes have grown weary of surfeiting, they seem to come
together by common consent, and, without much pomp or show, enter into
marital relations. The union thus formed is one of purest devotion,
based upon mutual sympathy and affection. Jealous of his spouse, the
male throws around her his aegis of protection, and stands ready to
wreak vengeance upon any of his feathered brethren who should dare
intrude upon her presence, or offer her the slightest insult. While thus
regardful of her honor, he is none the less thoughtful of her comfort
and wants, and seems ever ready to obey her slightest mandates,
whether expressed by word or gesture. When she is ready to nestle, he
accompanies her in her explorations, and assists in the selection of a
site for a home. This business is seldom delayed later than the middle
of May, and, although of immense moment, is protracted but for a brief
period. The spot chosen for a nest is a barren field by the seaside, a
piece of ploughed ground, or some pool-ridden, grass-lacking plain in
the interior. The nest is usually a slight hollow, and is lined with
bits of grass, straw, sea-weed, pebbles, or such other substances as may
be convenient to the builders. In some cases the birds evidently go to
considerable trouble, and manifest a taste for the beautiful. A case in
point is given by Wilson. In one of his travels he came across a nest
that was literally paved with oyster and clam shells, and which, in
addition, was neatly surrounded by a wall of the same, closely and
curiously arranged. These birds were doubtless possessed of higher
mental capacities than are common to their tribe, or they would not have
gone to so much pains to beautify and improve their domicile. Again,
nests are often found which do not show the least vestige of a lining.
Scarcity of materials, or absolute lack thereof, might be offered as an
explanation of the circumstance, but we have observed such apparently
incomplete abodes in situations where there could have been no
difficulty in procuring the necessary articles. Such-a simple affair,
as the nest ordinarily is, cannot certainly occupy the builders for any
great length of time. Consequently, we find that the female is ready to
commence laying on the day succeeding the establishment of her home.
Her complement of eggs being but four, usually at the expiration of the
fourth day, she is prepared to incubate. Like most birds that lay their
eggs in similar situations, the heated sand or pebbles have much to do
with the hatching-process. This is presumably the case in fair weather.
On cloudy days, during stormy weather, and at nights, it is necessary
that they should be covered. Upon the female devolves this duty, and
right cheerfully does she assume it. The time required to hatch the eggs
depends upon various circumstances, such as seasonal warmth, condition
of weather, and devotion of the sitting-bird. At any rate, in about
sixteen days from the time of the deposit of the last egg, the young
birds are ready to appear. Their deliverance is hailed with joy. Nothing
can exceed the attachment of the parents to their charges. Let the nest
be approached by a person, and the birds resort to various expedients
to draw him away from the spot, or to infuse a feeling of fear into his
bosom. They beat the air above his head with swiftly-plying pinions, or
run along the ground with counterfeited lameness, uttering incessantly
and loudly their shrill, but unmistakable call-notes. These movements
are kept up for a long time, until the enemy is led over considerable
scope of country, and the young are safe in places of concealment. The
latter are fed upon insects of various kinds which the birds obtain
in places they visit. Besides those which inhabit water, grasshoppers,
crickets, beetles, worms, etc., form a large percentage of their food.
Being somewhat crepuscular in habit, not many of the insects which
affect twilight escape their close scrutiny.
The young are soon able to take care of themselves, but instead of
deserting the family-circle when arrived at the age of responsibility in
bird-life, they continue to frequent the same haunts with their parents,
and, at the close of summer, descend with them to the seashore (thus
constituting the small flocks which we then observe), or retire with
them beyond our borders, to try their fortunes in brighter and more
prolific regions. Whether they attain the adult plumage in the autumn,
or in the following spring, it is not in our power to say; but when the
birds make their appearance during the latter season, it is difficult
to distinguish the young from their older brethren. By referring to the
picture a strong similarity will be found to exist between the sexes.
The rump and upper tail-coverts are of an orange-brown color; the tail
feathers are white at base and tip, with a suffusion of orange-brown for
a portion of their length, and marked with from one to three black bars.
The secondary wing-feathers are mostly white, while the primaries have
simply a white space. There is a black band across the forehead, and
two broader ones on the neck and breast. The bill is black, and the feet
pale grayish-blue. The length is about ten inches, wing six, and tail
three and one-half.
The eggs are pyriform in shape, somewhat elongated, creamy-buff in
ground, and marked with numerous speckles, blotches and scratches of a
dark-brown color, which are larger and more generally distributed around
the greater end, although abundant over the entire surface. The actual
measurements of a set before us are as follows: 1.53 by 1.05, 1.50 by
1.06, 1.45 by 1.04, and 1.43 by 1.09 inches, giving an average size of
1.48 by 1.06 to an egg. The species is single-brooded.
[Illustration: 328]
Plate XL.--QUISCALUS PURPUREUS, (Bartram) Licht.--Purple Grackle.
|Not to be familiar with this species, which country folk usually club
the Crow Blackbird, would argue an amount of ignorance and stupidity,
hardly excusable. We doubt whether there is a single boy, who is
old enough to exercise his observing faculties, that has not had his
attention called to these creatures--their strange manoeuvres and shrill
cries--as they cast their shadows across his path, or noisily perch
high-up in the trees that shelter his father's roof in the sweet
springtime. Of course there are localities where these birds do not
abound. But throughout the extended range of the species, it seems to
be well known, and by some is nearly as severely persecuted as its
very near cousin--the Common Crow--which it strongly resembles. It is
a denizen of the eastern parts of North America, from the Gulf coast on
the south to Labrador, Hudson's Bay and the Saskatchewan. On the west,
the Rockies intercept its progress, and form an insuperable barrier.
Various writers have accredited it to California, but the evidence rests
on an insufficient basis.
In the lower counties of Virginia, Georgia and the Carolinas, immense
armies of the birds, running up into the thousands, pass the winter.
From these quarters they take up the line of flight when the weather
warrants, and spread themselves over the country, reaching the Middle
States about the fifteenth of March, the New England a fortnight later,
and the Northwest on or about the same time. So strongly are they
attached to the old haunts that, when once arrived, they endure the
greatest inconvenience of weather and hunger, rather than desert them.
We have known them to appear in the midst of a violent snow-storm,
although somewhat disconcerted however, but apparently as jolly as
when fair weather prevails. The snow has little dread for them, but if
long-standing, often puts them to the direst extremity so far as food
is concerned. But they manage to live through the ordeal, some at least,
and carry out their nature-appointed projects.
Seldom do we observe in our Northern States very large flocks of these
birds during the vernal migration, but loose, scattered parties of a
hundred, or less. Upon arrival they keep aloof from wooded regions,
and manifest a predilection for ploughed fields and meadows, where they
destroy large quantities of worms and beetles. Few species are more
hated by the farmer. This hatred is to be attributed to the injuries
which it commits. When the corn has been planted, it visits the fields
in great numbers, and makes terrible havoc with the hardly germinated
grains. It does not stop here. The tender blades themselves, as soon
as they have sought the light, are seized by the caitiffs, for the
treasures which they hold concealed in the earth. The grains are
detached, and the blades are scattered to the winds. So fond of this
diet are these birds, that they defy the efforts of the husbandman
to check their devastations. Ingenious, devices in the guise of
scare-crows, and even the shot-gun, have no fears for them. Driven
from one section of the field, they instantly seek another remote from
danger, and ply their nefarious occupation with remarkable industry.
When in ear, invested with its close-fitting wrapper of husks, the corn
is not then safe, for the birds strip off the cover with the bill, and
extract it from the cob. At first these attacks are made with great
caution, but love of appetite soon triumphs-over fear and every other
feeling, and a spirit of reckless boldness succeeds. In the Southern
States, in the winter, they visit the corn-crib in swarms, and coolly
peck the partially dried grains from the cobs through the air-openings
along its sides. When denied such luxuries, they collect in the woods,
and feed upon the mast of the beech and the fruit of the oak. While
condemned as a nuisance and a pest to agricultural industry, on
account of these repeated devastations, they are possessed of many good
qualities which should commend them to public favor. For a long time
after their arrival their fare consists entirely of grub-worms, and
other injurious insects, which they pick up from the loosened soil, or
search for in their hidden retreats. So persistently do they glean, that
they do not hesitate to scratch the soil aside with their feet. What
would be the fate of the corn if the grubworm were allowed to run riot,
we do not presume to say. But when we come to consider the thousands of
these creatures that are annually destroyed by the Grackles, we question
whether the destruction and waste perpetrated by the birds would be
one-half as great as the insidious worms would have wrought had they
been permitted to carry on their work unchecked. Our experience has been
that the benefits derived from these birds largely outweigh the mischief
which they commit.
When disturbed in the midst of its pillaging, the Grackle is known to
emit a harsh, unmusical sound, expressive of anger and vexation, which
may be aptly likened to _thïc-kè-yâh_, slowly repeated and at rather
long intervals. Impatience may be denoted by the dissyllable _të-oo_
pronounced as a sharp whistle. The ordinary call-note, which may be
heard by an individual that has lost sight of his companions, or when
one bird wishes to call the attention of the flock to something that is
then transpiring, is a simple _tchuck_. Among the variety of its natural
notes, there is often heard a somewhat strange and affected sibillation,
which Nuttall compares to that of the Starling. This sound, which
resembles the word _wôttïtshee_, twice repeated, is often accompanied by
a peculiar whistle. Strictly speaking, these birds may be considered as
songless.
In some instances, when we are favored with an early spring, the
Grackles have been known to visit us during the first week of March, and
to commence nesting about the fifteenth of the month, but then only in
sheltered localities on the south slopes of hills. On the branches of
coniferous trees they are then accustomed to place their nests. Usually
but a single brood is annually raised, but when mating commences early,
a second brood has been known to appear early in July. Nidification,
however, ordinarily commences from the twentieth to the twenty-eighth of
April-This is always preceded by a brief period of courtship. When the
sexes are prepared to enter upon the new relation, the event is always
announced by the loud and almost deafening clamor which the birds
emit while circling in endless confusion above the roosting-tree. This
usually occurs in the early morning, when they have shaken off the toils
of sleep, and in the evening twilight before seeking rest. In the middle
of the day comparative silence prevails. But when the weather is cloudy
the noise and turmoil are kept up for nearly the entire day. They all
seem to be in a perfect furore of excitement, and, to the inexperienced
person, a crowd of angry and infuriated birds. This scene is enacted
every day for nearly a week, when the tumultuous rabble, so to speak,
dissolves into pairs, and silence reigns once more.
Where suitable trees exist, a preference being manifested for those of
the pine family, as many as fifty nests are often to be seen in the same
clump. My son, Alan F. Gentry, actually took three nests from one tree,
all within a few feet of each other, besides one nest of the Robin, and
another of the Dove. This shows the social character of the species, as
well as the friendship which it evinces towards others. Individual cases
have been met with where birds have manifested selfish dispositions, as
shown by their preference for solitary situations, and their desire to
dwell alone. Where the birds live together in communities the utmost
good-will everywhere abounds. The very wicked character which is
attributed to the Grackles, has been imputed to the whole species, on
account of the mean behavior of some of its members. Like the Common
Crow, some of these fellows show great fondness for birds' eggs and
tender fledglings, many of which, especially those of the Robin, are
heartlessly destroyed. Coward-like, these villainous wretches lurk in
the vicinity of the home they wish to pillage, until its occupants are
safe out of sight, when they pounce upon it with great speed, seize
an egg or a young bird, and beat a precipitate retreat. But wary and
vigilant as they generally are, they are sometimes caught in the act,
and forced to seek safety in flight from the impetuous attacks of the
enraged owners. We have been aware of this fondness for eggs for many
years, but the carnivorous propensity which is doubtless the outgrowth
of the other, has been observed by us frequently since 1876. Where the
birds dwell together in well-regulated societies, there is no desire
to interfere with their neighbors of different family-connections who
choose to take up their abodes within their territory. These assaults
are always made by their less social brethren whose selfish propensities
lead them to pass comparatively isolated lives.
In the selection of a nesting-tree very little time is wasted, the
birds mostly visiting the same neighborhood year after year where not
interfered with. The building of a home is a labor of more moment, and
generally requires the united efforts of both sexes for a period of six
days. The birds are diligent mechanics, and confine their operations to
certain hours of the day, chiefly in the cool of the morning and late
in the afternoon. The process of building being remarkably slow, the
materials have time to dry out in a great measure when the female is
ready to lay. Where the materials are somewhat free from mud, which
sometimes happens, opposition commences on the day following the
completion of the structure. Otherwise three or four days necessarily
elapse before this business is assumed. The eggs are laid one at a time
on each consecutive day. Incubation immediately follows, and is the sole
work of the female for sixteen days. The male contributes his part
to the success of the wearisome undertaking by providing her with
nourishment. At other times, he is in the immediate neighborhood, and
warns her of danger. Should the nest be approached, the female glides
out of it, and seeks, with the assistance of her partner, by loud
clamors and angry gestures, to drive the intruder away. So venturesome
do they become, that they have been seen to fly close to the head of
an assailant, as though with fury-darting eyes and wide-open jaws
they intended to resent the insult. Where the offender has been one in
feathered dress, we have known several pairs to come to the assistance
of their besieged friends, when the utmost confusion and excitement
would prevail. Such is the bravery often displayed, in encounters with
human foes, that victory has often crowned the efforts of the birds.
In some sections of the country these birds are said to nest in low
bushes, but we have invariably found them in tall trees, at heights
varying from fifty to sixty feet. In the second volume of the "American
Naturalist," a nest is described by a writer residing in Newark, N. J.,
which was built inside the spire of a church, and also another which was
placed in a martin-house from which the lawful owners had been expelled.
Wilson tells us that in his day it was quite a common occurrence for
these birds to nidificate in the interstices of the nests of the Fish
Hawk, when the latter builds in localities which they frequent. Several
pairs are said to occupy at the same time one of these structures, and
the most perfect harmony to exist between them and their royal cousin.
Audubon claims to have found nests of the Grackle in hollow trees, which
has also been the experience of William Brewster, Esq., in Northern
Maine, but it is highly probable that these accounts refer to the
Bronzed Grackle.
The nest is usually placed in a crotch close to the main axis of the
tree in which it is built, sometimes on a branch at some distance
therefrom, and is held _in situ_ by others. It is a bulky affair,
irregular in shape, and has no claims to architectural beauty. It is
coarsely but firmly built of twigs, dry plants and other substances,
interwoven with strong stems of grasses which have been picked up from
pools of mud, considerable quantities of which being still adherent.
This mud renders them exceedingly weighty, and besides serving to keep
them in position, also tends to agglutinate the elements of composition
more compactly together. Internally, a few fine grasses are found, which
make a rather cosy chamber. The external diameter measures seven inches,
and the height about six, while the cavity, which is very shallow
considering the size of the birds, is four inches in width, and but two
in depth.
When the eggs are hatched the event is hailed with demonstrations of
joy, and the parents watch over their helpless charges with more than
ordinary solicitude. Such vigorous feeders are they, that both the
male and the female are frequently compelled to be absent from the
nest simultaneously in the procurement of food. Grubs, earthworms,
caterpillars, and berries of various kinds, form a considerable part
of their diet. It is only when the birds dwell in communities that both
sexes are absent together. Where the pairs dwell singly, the one sex
alternates with the other. When sixteen days old the young quit the
nest, but are still cared for by the parents for an additional period of
ten days, when they are forced to seek their own livelihood. Both
young and old continue together in the old haunts until the close
of September, or the advent of October, when the changes which are
everywhere visible throughout the domain of Nature, warn them that it is
time to take their departure for milder regions. Accordingly, the small
flocks which are everywhere to be seen, gather into larger ones, and,
as by a given signal, with many an expression of sorrow and regret, wend
their way leisurely southward. Arriving in their winter-homes, these
bodies do not immediately break up into smaller parties, but maintain
themselves intact. How long they thus continue, we are unable to say.
Wilson met with one of these vast armies on the banks of the Roanoke
River, on the twentieth of January. When surprised it rose from the
surrounding fields with a noise like thunder, and when settled down upon
the road and fences, which they literally covered, gave everything the
appearance of being invested with a mantle of black; and when they again
rose and descended upon the skirts of high-timbered thickets whole
trees from their summits to the lowermost branches seemed draped as with
mourning, while their notes and screaming resounded like the far-off
murmurings of a huge cataract, but with a more musical cadence. In
the autumn, according to some authorities, and also at the approach of
winter, numerous flocks, which have been foraging in the distance during
the day, may be seen returning to their homes in the reeds to roost. As
each detachment nears its station, in straggling, scattering groups, it
is observed to sweep round the marsh in circling flight, until the note
of the leader, who has been sent to reconnoitre the ground, is heard,
when they all descend and take their stations.
In the drawing beautiful and accurate representations of these Grackles
appear. The male is readily identified, and may be known by the intense
warmth of his bronzy, purplish or violet dress. This iridescence is
variable, and seems dependent upon age, season and other circumstances.
The female is blackish-brown, and sometimes quite lustrous. The bill,
tarsi and toes are pure black, and the iris sulphur-yellow. The male
differs from his partner in size, being from twelve to thirteen inches
in length, while the latter ranges from eleven to twelve. In dimensions
of wing and tail there are also perceptible differences, the former
averaging five and two-thirds inches, and the latter five and one-third
in the male. The young is entirely of a uniform slaty-brown color, with
absence of gloss.
The eggs of this species are variable in number. Nests with four, five
and six eggs have been found, but most generally the two former. The
ground is also subject to changes, specimens being seen with a deep
rusty-brown color, and others with one of light greenish-white. It is
a rare occurrence to meet with the two forms in the same nest-full; the
latter being the predominant hue. Eggs with the brown background have in
addition to the black and dark-brown streaks and dashes which cover the
other type, chiefly about the larger extremity, a number of confluent,
cloudy blotches of deeper shades of the same color. These markings
are singularly grotesque in their pattern, and often bear strong
resemblances to letters, figures and other characters. In measurement,
eggs from the same locality, and even from the same clutch, show
considerable differences. In New England specimens are sometimes
obtained which measure 1.30 by .88, and others 1.18 by .84 of an inch.
Brewer gives the average size as 1.25 by .90. Specimens from Eastern
Pennsylvania offer as much variableness. A clutch before us shows the
following dimensions: 1.18 by .86, 1.15 by .87, 1.15 by .87, 1.13 by
.88 and 1.12 by .84. Other specimens from the same locality average
1.24 by .90. The Purple Grackle is quite easily tamed, and when
confined to the cage utters its brief stock of notes with great
freedom. It has also been taught to articulate certain words with
considerable distinctness.
[Illustration: 348]