|The range of the American Goldfinch is nearly co-extensive with the
vast continent of North America. Its range seems to he, in a great
measure, determined by the presence of the cottonwood, willow and the
various compositaceous plants upon the seeds of which it largely
depends for a living. From the Atlantic to the Pacific it is found, and
northward from the Mexic borders to the fur countries of the British
possessions. It is abundant both in Texas and the Indian Territory, but
in the vicinity of Vera Cruz it seems to be a stranger, as no mention
is made of it by Sumichrast. Dr. Newberry encountered it while passing
through the inland portions of Oregon and California, remote from
civilized life, and Dr. Cooper on the Columbia, and in maritime
situations in close proximity to its mouth. Dr. Suckley was unable to
find it about Puget Sound, although at infinite pains to discover its
presence. Dr. Coues failed to meet with it in Arizona, and Mr. Ridgway
was surprised at the notable scarcity of it in Central California. For
the hot interior valleys of this State, as well as the cooler mountain
ranges, it seems to affect great dislike, although it was observed by
Ridgway to be nesting in the Uintah Mountains.
Generally, where it is found at all, it exists in great abundance.
In some portions of its habitat it is not a permanent resident, but
migrates southward with the approach of cold weather, only to resume its
northern journey again with the recurrence of another spring. In British
America it is a late summer visitor, and departs early in September. It
is a migrant in the northern parts of New England, and the same may
be true of places situated in corresponding latitudes, while in the
southern districts it remains through the entire year. In Eastern
Pennsylvania, if the weather be not extremely severe, paired
individuals, and even flocks of a half-dozen or more, may be met with
in sheltered localities. In early autumn larger bodies of birds are met
with, and the same is true in April, when there is an increased supply
of food. When the ground is covered with snow, and the trees laden with
ice and sleet, they lead very nomadic lives, and are often compelled to
seek the habitations of man where they freely mingle with the Snowbirds
and Sparrows, to receive their share of refuse from the kitchen. They
now become exceedingly tame, and can be approached without difficulty.
While partaking of our hospitalities, this Finch disdains not its
natural food. It will lay siege to a honeysuckle, if in fruit, and gorge
itself to satiety--a berry for which it manifests great fondness.
The seeds of the radish, and of the various species of amaranths and
pigweeds that grow in our midst, are also sought after, and devoured in
vast numbers. In woods various species of coniferous seeds, the mast of
the black beech, and the seeds of grasses form an important part of its
diet. When the red maples are in blossom, dozens of these birds will
settle down in the trees, and feast for hours upon the tender stamens
and pistils, and the small insects which are attracted thither. As the
season advances, and the apple and cherry come into bloom, the same fate
awaits them. To the gardener they are sources of annoyance. They visit
the garden when the soil has been broken, apparently for the writhing,
scampering beings unearthed, but avowedly for the freshly-sown,
delicious salad-seeds, every grain of which they pilfer, unless driven
away by force. Later on they revel in high life, for the dandelion,
thistles and sunflowers have perfected their fruits. Although chiefly a
granivorous species, the Goldfinch does not subsist entirely upon seeds,
but destroys vast numbers of insects in all their different stages.
Various measuring-worms, diptera, ants and plant-lice are destroyed,
which, doubtless, largely-outweigh the mischief which they commit.
Late in April the large flocks dissolve into smaller ones. It is a
common thing to see two males and one female in company, the former
lavishing the most endearing attentions upon the latter, and both,
simultaneously, regaling her with the sweetest music. Thus affairs go
on for some time, when, out of pure mischief, she selects one of
the suitors, and just as he begins to feel his bosom glow with
self-satisfied pride, she turns her back upon him, and flies to the
other, who all the while has been pouring his soul away in the ecstasies
of song. These cruel flirtations are kept up for a couple of days
before a final choice is effected. It seems to require great effort and
condescension upon the part of the successful suitor to retain his hold
upon her affections; for she is likely to waver in the interval of time
between mating and nidification, and give her heart to another. The
labors of nest-building so completely engross her thoughts, that
the tendency to flirtation has not time to manifest itself, and soon
disappears altogether.
The wedded couple, however, do not seem to be in much haste about
nesting, but ramble over the country in search of food, ever and anon,
as though seeking rest from labor, perching upon a tree-branch, where
the male pours into the ear of his less-favored partner, with all the
impassioned eloquence of his being, the story of his love. While thus
engaged, he is wont to turn towards the object of his affection, as if
to ascertain the effects of his well-chosen roundelay. A low, soft note,
expressed by the dissyllabic word _twë-yah_, is her only response of
recognition and approval. The song of the male is very difficult to
convey in human language. It is loud and clear in intonation, and rivals
the variously modulated strains of the Canary. Like the latter he has
the faculty of lowering and raising the voice, so that one moment the
notes seem borne from a great distance on the wings of gently-murmuring
zephyrs, while the very next they ring out upon the air with tenfold
greater volume of tone and intensity. In confinement he becomes
exceedingly familiar and tractable, and with proper care soon becomes a
valuable singer. A friend of ours once possessed a male which he reared
from the nest.
This bird was taught to keep time with the lateral movements of the
index finger, and to increase and decrease the volume of sound with
the elevation and depression of the same. In a state of repose a simple
_twe_, uttered softly and slowly at measured intervals, is its only
note. While pillaging the garden these birds give expression to sounds
which Nuttall has likened to _'mày-bê, 'mây-bê_. In their quarrels,
which commonly occur when small parties are on the wing, there is heard
one loud, confused medley of discordant chirpings, which seems, as a
recent writer once remarked, as though some were pleading for peace,
while the others were clamorous for the fray.
About the fifteenth of June, sometimes as early as the middle of the
preceding month, the birds settle down to the business which has brought
them together. Some time is spent in the selection of a suitable tree,
and in fixing upon a position. One tree after another is visited, before
one is found which combines the requisites of shelter, security and
convenience. When the birds make up their minds to build in an orchard,
a pear-tree is usually their choice. In other situations a seeming
preference is manifested for the maple and willow. Perhaps, any tree
where numerous small branches radiate, nearly in the same circle, from a
common stem, will be found to be available. The height of the nest
above the ground is usually about fifteen feet. Occasionally, greater
elevations are taken. Sometimes a horizontal branch with divergent twigs
is chosen, instead of one that is nearly vertical.
Than the nest of the Thistle Bird, as this species is sometimes called,
no more beautiful structure of the basket in form and the felted in
texture is known to exist. In shape it is symmetrical, delicately and
neatly woven, and skilfully and securely fastened to the forked twigs
between which it is placed. In beauty of design, and elegance of finish,
it is a perfect model of architectural skill. A structure before us from
Philadelphia may be considered as typical. It is placed in a crotch,
and held _in situ_ by four small nearly upright branches, which are
partially wrought into the fabric. The outside is composed of the
tassels of the common chestnut, stems of knotweed, leaves, fragments
of fungus, interwoven with an excess of flax-like fabrics and vegetable
wool. The inside is lined with divers shreds of dandelion and thistle,
neatly and compactly felted. The external diameter and height are each
two and a half inches, and the cavity two at the rim and the same in
depth.
A nest from Union County, Pa., nearly two hundred miles distant from
the former locality, varies materially in size and in the character of
composing materials. When found it was placed between two horizontal
twigs joined at right angles to another, to which it was firmly attached
by hempen fibres. On the right of the nest further security was afforded
by a vertical twig, to which it was bound by similar cords. Fine
roots of grasses, spiders' webs, cotton string, twisted and untwisted
yellowish hempen cords, nicely and evenly felted, constituted the
exterior. Within there was a lining of yellow rootlets and white
horse-hairs, the latter in excess. The nest is hemispherical, and
measures three inches in width, and the same in height. The cavity is
two inches in diameter and of equal depth. This nest was discovered
about the fifteenth of August, and contained a brood of tender
fledglings.
Another fabric is somewhat exceptional in position. It rests upon a
horizontal limb, and is still further supported by three inclined twigs
on the one side, to which it is fastened by strings and the ravellings
of colored cottony fabrics. The exterior is made of raw cotton, animal
wool, hempen strings, vegetable fibres, rootlets of grasses, rather
ingeniously interwoven. Interiorly there is a strange commingling of
wool and horsehairs. The bottom of the cavity is hardly covered, the
twig which forms the basis of the structure being clearly discernible.
in external diameter it measures two and a half inches, and in depth but
two; the width and depth of the cavity are identical, being about one
and three-fourths inches.
In New England, according to Samuels, the nest of this species is built
of soft strips of the cedar and grape-vine bark, which are elaborately
woven into a compact structure around a deep hollow, which is softly
lined with the down of thistles, and, occasionally, with a few feathers.
After the completion of the nest, which ordinarily requires the united
efforts of both birds for six days to accomplish, the female, on the
following day, begins to deposit her eggs. These to the number of five
are laid at the rate of one a day. Incubation commences on the day
subsequent to the last deposit, and lasts for ten days. This duty
devolves exclusively upon the female. The only part which the male
performs is the indirect one of providing his companion with suitable
nourishment. When not thus engaged he cheers the tedium of her task by
an agreeable ditty. By some writers he is considered more of a dandy
than a family man, as he spends the greater portion of his time with his
fellows in the pursuit of food, in the arrangement of his toilet, or in
the pleasures of the bath. Our experience is different. While he takes
no direct part in the incubating process, his affection for his mate,
and his constant desire to please her, prove him to be, in every sense,
a model companion. When their home is assailed, he does not sneak away,
and allow his partner to bear the brunt of the battle to be waged in
its defence, but comes boldly to the front, and with loud clamors,
angry gesticulations, and wide open jaws, unites with her to expel the
intruder. Where frequent interferences occur, the birds are often
forced to forsake their nest, and seek other quarters. This perhaps will
account for the fact that nests with eggs are sometimes found as late as
the fifteenth of July, and others with young birds during the last week
of August. Such delays are doubtless of common occurrence.
The destruction of a nest while incubation is progressing, most
generally leads to the renewal of the attempt in some other place.
The desire for offspring will often be found to triumph over the most
insuperable difficulties. We have known instances where the same pair
had been thwarted four times in succession, and as often renewed the
attempt. An unfortunate male or female may sometimes be doomed to lead
the life of a celibate, by reason of the scarcity of individuals of the
opposite sex. Perhaps an event has occurred which has altered the status
of affairs. A male has died, and his partner is compelled to break up
house-keeping, or seek another. If she does the latter, her companion
may be a widower, or one that has been unable to enter into matrimonial
relations for the reasons already assigned. Not willing to father the
responsibilities of another, the old home, and its once precious charges
if there be any, must be abandoned, and another domicile constructed
and peopled. The mating being effected, a suitable spot chosen, a
home prepared, and the subsequent duties of oviposition and incubation
successfully passed through, all of which requiring time, it is not
remarkable that nests should be found so late in the season.
Coming back from this necessary digression, the young are from eleven to
twelve days old when they leave the nest. The addition of a week or ten
days to this period finds them sufficiently matured to attend to their
own wants. At first they are fed by the parents upon various soft-bodied
insects, which they glean from the branches and foliage of trees, but
later on, butterflies and various species of andrena and halictus are
brought to them. When able to provide for themselves, they consort
with their parents, and subsist with them on various kinds of seeds and
berries.
The young do not acquire their full plumage until the following spring.
Their characteristic dress in the fall nearly resembles that of the
adult female. It is reddish-olive above, and fulvous-yellow below.
Across the coverts there are to be seen two broad bands, and broad
edges of pale rufus to the last half of the secondaries. The female is
yellowish-gray above, greenish-yellow below, and is devoid of the black
on the forehead. The adult male has a bright gamboge-yellow dress, which
is in a great measure relieved of its sameness by the black crown,
wings and tail. A still further variegation is noticeable in the lesser
wing-coverts, lower edges of the greater ones, ends of secondaries
and tertiaries, inner margins of tail-feathers, upper and
lower tail-coverts, and tibia, which are white. In the winter a
yellowish-brown color replaces the yellow, the wings and tail become
browner, and the black of the crown is lacking. The under parts take on
an ashy-brown hue, which passes into white behind, and yellowish along
the throat. The entire length of the mature birds is five and a quarter
inches, while that of the wing is three.
The eggs of this species, when fresh, are white, with a slight roseate
tinge. In blown specimens they show a faint bluish hue. Their nearest
counterparts are Lawrence's Goldfinch, from which they are scarcely
distinguishable. They are usually four in number, although five
sometimes occur, and in shape are oval. Their dimensions vary even in
the same nest-full. Specimens from New England vary from .68 by .53 to .63
by 50 inches. Others from California measure .60 by 50. Pennsylvania
eggs have an average measurement of .66 by .53. Considerable diversity
of opinion exists as to the number of broods annually raised. Nuttall
alleges that they raise two, but seems to base his assertion upon
the fact that nests are found from the first of July to the middle
of September, which in our estimation is wholly accounted for by
explanations given above. The mass of writers, however, differ from
him, and believe the species to raise but a single brood annually. In
Pennsylvania and New Jersey, we can safely say that not a single case
has occurred to us of double-broodedness.
It may be thought strange that these birds should, as a rule, be so
dilatory in their movements, so far as the assumption of matrimonial
relations is concerned, being even behind the generality of our
Warblers, which are not so well-adapted to the climate as they An
explanation of the matter has been attempted by Dr. Brewer. He seems to
think that the cause is attributable to the scarcity of proper aliment
for the young in early summer. The greater abundance of insects found
in July, especially in their larval stages, which must necessarily
constitute a fair percentage of their diet at first, would seem to
contradict such a statement. Our experience goes to show that more nests
with young birds are found from the middle of June to about the tenth
of July than at any subsequent period, just at the time when insect life
riots in luxuriance.
[Illustration: 359]
Plate XLII.--BUTORIDES VIRESCENS, (Linn.) Baird.--Green Heron.
|Contemned by man, and characterized by the most inappropriate and
disgusting nickname, with which almost every one who is conversant with
the species must be familiar, our subject asks nothing at the hands of
humankind, but rather avoids cultivated scenes, and seems to thrive best
where civilization has neither sown nor reaped. Within the precincts
of grassy pools and almost impenetrable morasses, where dangerous odors
exhale, and myriads of slimy creatures drag their slow lengths along, or
startle the shades of night with their bass murmuring? the Green Heron
delights to dwell. Here he pursues his craft in the society of his
friends and near relatives.
Early in April the birds reach the Middle Atlantic States, from their
Southern marshy homes, and soon afterwards are found in New England,
and other portions to the westward. Their limit in this direction is
somewhat circumscribed. The silence of writers upon the subject conduces
to the inference that they are not found west of the Rocky Mountains,
and the absence of mention by the parties connected with the different
government expeditions, shows that they are not to be met with in
regions which they visited. In the extreme southern and eastern parts of
the region of the Missouri, however, they are to be met with. McIlwraith
observed them in Canada West; and in the West Indies, Mexico, and
from Central America to Venezuela, they are known to abound. They are
mentioned by Gosse in his explorations, and Cory saw them in abundance,
during the breeding-season, in the Bahamas. It is possible that many of
these denizens of tropical countries migrate to the United States,
and associate with their northern brethren that winter in our Southern
States, and even pursue their journey to colder latitudes.
For nearly a month after its arrival the Heron is a solitary feeder, and
seems to care for naught but the gratification of appetite. Knee-deep in
some small stagnant stream or pool, or in the midst of sylvan glade
or reedy marsh, he may be seen awaiting his prey. His movements are
characterized by remarkable artfulness and skill. The extreme caution
evinced by the game he seeks, and its facility to elude pursuit,
presuppose the possession of a nicety of address, and of celerity of
action. When on the lookout for minnows, and other small fish, he takes
up his position by the side of the ditch, and with his long-reaching
neck contracted over his breast, prepared for duty, he waits, in
statue-like repose, the appearance thereof. The keen, flashing eye
bespeaks the anxiety reigning within. He has not long to watch. Soon a
luckless little fellow approaches the bank cautiously, when, with one
stroke of the bill, as unerring and sudden as that of the blow of a
rattlesnake, he is transfixed, and ere he has time to contemplate the
condition of affairs, is swallowed entire. Worms, aquatic larvæ and
small crabs are eagerly hunted, and captured with wonderful adroitness.
It is, however, when in quest of frogs, that he displays the exceeding
cunning of which he is capable. These subtle, wary creatures are
difficult to surprise, and plunge into the water and mire on the
slightest noise or alarm. A few moments elapse before they are
sufficiently assured to venture to the surface again, but when they are,
the movement is always performed with great caution and circumspection.
While the frog is recovering from its fright, the Heron is laying his
plans on the oozy flat above. Fixing his penetrating gaze upon the spot
where his game disappeared, he steals slowly forward, and patiently
awaits the first appearance of the bronzy head, at the sight of which,
with almost lightning-like movement, he deals the unfortunate blow; the
squirming, wriggling mass of matter is jerked from its watery bath, only
to be dashed to death upon stones, and eaten at leisure.
The life of the Heron is not the dull, prosy, slavish one which many
writers have pictured, as it is always attended with a certain amount
of excitement which gives spice and zest thereto. The abundance of
reptilian and other life to be found in places which these birds visit,
and the comparative ease with which it is seemingly obtained,
render existence a pleasure rather than a burden. They are not the
over-anxious, indigent race of beings which their general appearance
would lead us to suspect. Living in the midst of plenty, although
unsurrounded by green bowers and luscious viands, such as lure their
apparently better favored brethren--the rich, gifted oscines--they are
pleased with their lot, and doubtless would scorn to exchange it for
others. Their lean, lank natures, as commonly supposed, have nothing
whatever to do with the character of their surroundings, but are a wise
and fitting illustration of the law of design which is everywhere to be
seen in Nature.
Of all our Herons, this species displays the least shyness. When
disturbed, it mounts upward with a hollow, guttural cry, but soon
alights, cranes its neck, and if danger is not threatening, settles back
into its usual quiescent state. Either while walking or standing, on
such occasions, it is noticed to jet the tail, a habit which it indulges
in at somewhat regular periods. In addition to the ordinary scream,
other notes are emitted, which resemble the syllables _'k'w, 'k'w,
'k'w_. These succeed the others so closely that they may be considered a
part of the same call-note of alarm.
Many birds usher in the dawn of the matrimonial period with music. But
such is not the case with the present species. To be sure there may be
heard the same cries with which it is wont to greet intruding footsteps.
The principal indications of its return may be noticed in the preference
which the sexes have for each other, and in their endearing behavior.
They no longer seek to dwell apart. A week at most is thus spent, when
the friendship formed invariably ripens into the stronger feeling of
love. This ordinarily happens from the twentieth of April to about the
tenth of May. Having mated, the party start off in search of a swampy
woods, where, among the branches of some tree, they place their rude
domicile.
Some live apart, but the rule is to dwell in companies. It is common to
find them and the Night Heron living together on friendly terms.
The nest is entirely built of sticks, with finer ones on the inside,
is the work of both birds, and occupies but a short time in building,
usually not more than two days. The eggs are deposited at the rate of
one a day, chiefly on consecutive days. Incubation commences shortly
after the eggs are laid, and is mainly the result of the female, who,
for nearly eighteen days, is a very assiduous sitter. While she is thus
occupied the male is a faithful guardian and protector. He administers
to her his choicest captures, and warns her of coming danger. When the
nest is molested both birds hover near the tree, but beyond the reach
of danger, and by the most deafening screams, seek to drive away the
assailant, but they never venture upon an attack. If the nest has been
despoiled, they immediately set to work to repair it; or, if rifled of
its treasures, do not long bewail the loss, but proceed to replenish it.
Like most of its family, this species places the nest high up in tall
trees, although instances have occurred where they were not more than
twenty feet from the ground. The young birds are carefully attended and
fed by the parents, and do not leave the nest until they are able to
fly, which is the case when they are from four to five weeks old. Their
food consists at first of worms, larvæ of dragon-flies and aquatic
beetles. But as they increase in age, fresh-water crabs, lizards,
frogs, grasshoppers, etc., are brought to them in large numbers. They
do not mature until the next season. At first they have the head less
crested than the adult. The back is devoid of the characteristic long
plumes, but has the same glossy greenish color. The neck is simply
reddish-brown, while the entire under parts have the white somewhat
variegated with dark brown.
The eggs of these birds are from three to four in number, oblong-oval in
form, and of a pale light-blue color. The largest egg in a set of
four before us measures 1.55 inches in length, and 1.19 in width; the
smallest 1.50 in length, and 1.13 in width. Throughout its entire range
the species is single-brooded.
[Illustration: 365]
Plate XLIII.--CYANOCITTA CRISTATA, (Linn.) Strickl.--Blue Jay.
|This abundant, beautiful and familiar bird is a resident of the
eastern half of North America, from the Atlantic west to Kansas, Eastern
Nebraska and Dakota, and from Florida and Texas on the south to the 56th
parallel of north latitude. Wherever met with it breeds in greater or
less numbers, according as its presence is welcomed or rejected by the
imperious lords of creation, and food is readily or with difficulty
obtained.
Few species show more striking peculiarities of conduct, and none
scarcely exhibit as much sagacity and intelligence. Within its natural
haunts it is exceedingly shy and suspicious, and is hardly approachable.
Frequent intercourse with man, however, has, in some sections, modified
its disposition, and, as a necessary consequence, confidence has taken
the place of distrust. This is substantiated by its tendency to nest in
places contiguous to the dwellings of man. In Eastern Pennsylvania, a
decade ago, it was quite a common occurrence to find a score of birds
nesting in a square mile of territory, but, at the present time, the
collector considers himself very fortunate if he encounters one-fifth
of this number within the same area, and these only in localities whose
solitude is seldom unbroken by the tread of human footsteps. In the
wooded regions of Iowa, Mr. Allen found this species quite as
trustful as the Black-capped Titmouse, and in Illinois, reduced to a
semi-domesticated condition. Within the former State a pair of birds
were found nidificating under the window of a house, in a lilac-bush,
and this, too, in one of the most prominent and frequented streets of
the town of Richmond.
A curious behavior marks the species' first acquaintance with human
society. The movements of man are followed with noteworthy pertinacity,
the slightest action being carefully scanned, but our feathered friend
never ventures too near at first. After frequent interviews at a wary
distance, if undisturbed, he gradually approaches nearer and nearer, and
in time comes to regard him with kindly favor. Sometimes these advances
are received with coldness, and the most bitter persecutions occur. When
such is the case, the Jay takes a dislike to man, and shuns his society.
In his rural retreats this bird is the enemy of the hunter, and often
provokes his ire and vengeance by its tantalizing behavior. When he is
in pursuit of game, it takes great delight in following him, and, by its
seemingly distressing cries, seeks to warn its feathered neighbors of
approaching danger.
Though occasionally found within cultivated regions, yet these birds
affect the shelter of dense forests, where they can pursue their craft
with undismayed tranquillity. It is in such quarters that they are
mostly to be seen in winter, searching for the eggs of insects. When
there is a scarcity of such diet, the fruits of the oak, beech, birch
and pine are hunted and devoured. Large numbers of beetles, some
terrestrial in habits, also contribute largely to their sustenance. With
the return of spring, insect life is more rife, and we find them feeding
upon grasshoppers and caterpillars of every description. Like the Crow,
the Jay is pre-eminently omnivorous, although preferring animal to
vegetable matters. In the gratification of its appetite for the former,
it is led to destroy the eggs and young of smaller birds, and even to
kill those that are full-grown. Such merciless conduct detracts from its
general good character, and often conduces to its destruction. But the
good which it accomplishes, as evidenced above, outweighs in tenfold
proportion the mischief committed, and should encourage us to desist
from our persecutions, and accord to it a generous welcome. Its
depredations upon the garden and farm are so trivial, that they do not
warrant the abuse which thoughtless farmers are wont to lavish upon
these feathered benefactors. To favor our readers with some idea of the
good which has been accomplished in some portions of the country, we
cannot do better than give the substance of Dr. Kirtland's estimate of
its character, as given by Dr. Brewer. When the former gentleman first
settled upon his farm he observed that every wild cherry and apple tree
was well-nigh denuded of its leaves by the tent-caterpillar. The evil
was so widespread that all efforts to counteract it seemed hopeless. At
this crisis the Jays made their appearance and established colonies. The
caterpillar constituted a ready diet for their young, and was preyed
upon so extensively, that in a short time, not one was seen in the
neighborhood.
Whilst feeding, the Jay is both silent and vigilant, save when
disturbed, when he signifies his discontent by a harsh, petulant cry,
which sounds like _djay, jay, jay_. In his more complaisant humor, he
is by no means an unmusical fellow, but gives expression to a series of
vocal sounds which for variety beauty and harmony are truely creditable,
and, as Nutall happily notes are by no means unpleasant, and fall in
harmoniously with the cadence of the feathered choristers around him, so
as to form a finishing part to the general music of the grove. Wilson
likens him, among singing-birds, to the trumpeter of the band. His notes
are anything but monotonous. At one time he screams with all his power
as if actuated by some terrible impulse, and, almost the next instant,
greets you with notes as soft and pensive as those of the Bluebird,
but to be only followed by others that fairly shock the ear with their
unutterable harshness. The latter have been observed to resemble the
syllables _whèèo-whèèo-wieeo_, but the sweet bell-like note almost
baffles the powers of description His powers of mimicry, though
different from those of the Mocking-bird can hardly excelled by that
species. The cries of the Sparrow Hawk are imitated with great pleasure,
and so accurately does he mimic the harsh screams of the Red-shouldered
and Red-tailed Hawks, that the smaller birds seek their coverts in
dismay, and the poultry are thrown into the greatest consternation. When
reared from the nest these birds make interesting pets, and in due time
learn to simulate every sound they hear not even excepting those of the
human voice. A case is cited by Wilson of an individual that had been
raised by a South Carolinian, which evinced remarkable intelligence, and
which possessed nearly the loquacity of some of the Parrots. It could
pronounce several words with remarkable distinctness, and when called,
would respond to its name in quite a sociable manner. By fanciers the
Jay is esteemed the most ingenious, artful and teachable bird with which
they have met.
A peculiarity of the species, deserving mention, is the habit of the
sexes to go together during the winter, showing that some kind of
attachment exists, even at the period when many birds, not gregarious,
find it most to their interest to lead solitary lives. This disposition
to go in pairs may be the beginning of a tendency to gregariousness,
such as prevails among some of its near cousins, or it may be considered
as the last vestige of a habit that was once predominant. Cases have
been observed where the sexes dwelt apart, which leads to the suspicion
that the species is surely and inevitably gravitating towards such a
state. In the season of cold and scarcity, when most of our resident
birds are too much concerned with the procurement of food to permit the
social relations to have a moment's sway, the life of a celibate seems
to be more fitting, and in very many cases is one of preference. While
these birds thus continue to keep together, possibly through force of
long-established habit, yet they do not manifest the slightest tendency
to matrimony, until Nature has sufficiently recovered from torpor to
insure a living for their offspring. Not very fastidious in
appetite, and easy to please, almost any kind of insect diet answers.
Consequently, with the early dawning of April, but never later than
the fifteenth of the month, a change comes over them. Less anxiety is
manifested for food-matters, and more friendly relations established.
The sexes consort together much, and after a few days of courtship,
which business is seemingly unmarked by any great display of form,
settle down to the prosy realities of life. Nidification is now entered
into with commendable zeal. For this purpose a forest or orchard tree is
generally chosen, although a low bush is sometimes made subservient. In
retired localities a preference is shown for the pine. The selection of
a site never consumes much time. With old birds it requires careful and
diligent searching for a day or two, but in the ease of inexperienced
individuals, the time may be protracted for nearly a week. Where
permitted to rear their progeny unmolested, a strong attachment is shown
for the same neighborhood, and instances occur where the same pair dwell
and breed in some cherished haunt for several years in succession.
In the construction of a home both birds labor with the utmost
diligence. They are usually about three days thus occupied, each bird
taking an equal share in the task. The nest is anything but elaborate
in its mechanism, and has little to recommend it in artistic design and
beauty. It is a strong, coarse structure, placed upon a branch over a
crotch, sometimes held in position by adjoining twigs, and is composed
of sticks rudely and firmly interwoven. Inside there is usually a lining
of dark fibrous roots. In proportions it is almost equal to the nest of
the Purple Grackle.
The domicile being completed, on the following day, sometimes not
so soon, the female begins to lay, at the rate of one egg a day, her
complement of eggs. This is usually five, although nests have been
found with six, and others more rarely with four. Incubation is closely
attendant upon oviposition, and generally dates from the day following
the last deposit. This business is the sole labor of the female for
about seventeen days. While she is thus occupied the male encourages her
by his presence, or when not foraging, guards the spot from intrusion.
He is a very jealous husband, and will not permit any of the feathered
denizens of the woods to approach, without resenting it in the most
determined manner, and inflicting severe punishment. Human interference
is greeted with loud and angry cries, and the infuriated bird is with
difficulty beaten off.
In Texas, according to Dr. Lincecum, the nest is built of mud, a
substance which is rarely utilized in more northern localities. In
situations contiguous to houses, rags of calico, cotton thread, and
other similar materials, form a very cosy and suitable lining. Such
places are chosen on account of the protection against Hawks which they
secure. A single brood is annually raised, and but four eggs constitute
a setting. In the abdomen of a female which he dissected there were
found one hundred and fifty ova, and from this and the preceding datum,
he was led to the inference that the natural life of the Jay was thirty
years.
When the young birds make their appearance they are welcomed with
demonstrations of great joy by the parents. The latter manifest much
solicitude for their safety, and attend to their demands with the most
sedulous devotion. They watch over them with unwearying vigilance, and
actually imperil their own lives when their helpless charges are in
danger. Earthworms, caterpillars, moths of various kinds, beetles,
grasshoppers, acorns, berries, etc., make a voluminous bill of fare, but
they are always carefully chosen to suit the age and condition of life.
Both birds are seldom absent together in search of food. When three
weeks old, the young quit the nest, and a fortnight later, are able to
gain their own living.
In the drawing we have delineated the appearances which the sexes
present when they have attained their full dress. The female, which is
shown considerably in the background, is duller than her lord and, in
the natural state, is somewhat smaller. The mature male is purplish-gray
below, with a tendency to whitening on the throat, belly and crissum.
This is diversified by a black band across the lower throat, which is
continued up the sides of the neck and head to a space behind the crest,
and, also, by a black frontlet with a whitish border. The wings and
tail are a rich blue, with bars of black. The greater wing-coverts,
secondaries and tail feathers, the central excepted, are broadly tipped
with unsullied white, and the tail is much rounded. The bill and feet
are black, and the iris of the eye of a hazel color. The length is about
twelve and a quarter inches, wing five and thirteen-twentieths, and tail
five and three-quarters.
The eggs are rounded-oval in contour, obtuse, and pretty nearly equal at
both extremities. They are brownish-olive on the ground, in most cases,
although some specimens show a decided olive-drab color. A few darker
olive-brown spots, however, relieve the monotony of the background. The
average size is about 1.16 inches in length, and .85 in width. We have
seen some that varied from 1.04 to 1.21 in length, and in breadth
from .81 to .89 of an inch.
[Illustration: 373]
Plate XLIV.--TELMATODYTES PALUSTRIS, (Wils.) Baird.--Long-billed Marsh
Wren.
|The above species is restricted to Eastern North America. It ranges
from the Atlantic westward to the Missouri, and from Massachusetts
to Florida. On our western shores, and in the Middle Provinces of the
United States, a closely-allied form takes its place. In Maine and New
Hampshire it is notably absent, but in Massachusetts and Vermont and
thence southward through New England, where suitable localities exist,
it is more or less common. Austin F. Park, of Troy, N. Y., gives it a
common breeder in that locality, and the same may be affirmed, on the
authority of Rathbun, to be the case in the central portions of the
State. In Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware we have found it most
abundant during the nesting season. Throughout the Southern States some
remain to breed, but the greater number go northward for this purpose.
Ridgway states it to be an occasional resident, at least, in the
southern counties of Illinois, but farther north a summer sojourner. In
the vicinity of Cincinnati, according to Langdon, it seems to be
merely a vernal migrant, but possibly spends its summer in the northern
counties of Ohio, or in Michigan and Wisconsin. It cannot be denied
admission to Minnesota, as is clearly proved by ornithologists from
that section. Its occurrences have been noted in Kansas and Colorado by
various parties, but it is likely that such references may be set down
to the Tule Wren.
The Long-bill spends the winter on our southern border and southward,
and only takes up its migratory course when the weather has settled
into the blandishments of spring. The grand movement commences about
the first week of April, and it is not long before the birds have spread
themselves over the country. They reach the Potomac about the middle
of the month, Pennsylvania towards the close, and New England about the
first of May. When the season is forward, individuals are often met with
in the latitude of Philadelphia and Central New York early in April.
Upon its arrival it seeks inland swamps, or the brackish marshes of the
seashore, where, amid the splatterdocks of the former, and reeds of the
latter, it finds suitable shelter. Here day in and day out, during their
entire stay, these birds pursue the even tenor of their lives, happy and
contented, never caring, like many of their remoter kin, for the charmed
circle of man. Active, energetic and buoyant with life and hope, they
skip about the tall, rank vegetation, in every conceivable direction,
in quest of insects. Their food consists of grasshoppers, small aquatic
grubs, and such like, which they capture with considerable dexterity. If
you should be unconsciously led to the favorite haunts of the species,
you at once become aware of its presence by the lively, chattering song
which emanates from within, and, ere long, you are repaid, if you take
any special pains to insinuate yourself within the reeds, by a sight
of the quaint, little creature, as he dodges, like some grotesque
apparition, in and out among the interlacing grasses. This song, which
has been compared by Wilson to a low crackling sound, somewhat analogous
to air bubbles forcing their way through boggy ground, and by Audubon,
to the grating noise of a rusty hinge, is most difficult of expression.
It resembles more nearly the sounds of an insect than those of a bird,
and is a low, harsh cry, lacking both harmony and force of expression.
As these birds reach their breeding-grounds early in May, and instantly
repair to nest-building, it is safe to assume that mating had been
celebrated in their far-off southern homes, or is a matter that is
entered into with but little show or affectation. Frequent visits to
their haunts, at such times when one would expect to gain information
on this point, have always been rewarded by seeing the busy creatures
at work upon their nest. Their early movements are so secret and
mysterious, that we hardly know anything of their presence except when
they are colonized for the summer.
The labor of building is entered into with considerable alacrity, and is
mainly the result of the combined action of both birds, for a period of
five or six days. The exact time is hard to estimate, and is dependent
upon the character of the structure, position, and the industry and
patience of the architects. When the nest is placed horizontally upon
the ground in the midst of a clump of sedges, it is loosely constructed,
and costs but three days of steady workmanship. But when elevated to
the tops of tussocks, or to the branches of shrubs and trees, where
more compactness and finish are necessary, the time is essentially
protracted. The disposition to nest in trees and bushes, which is now
a prominent feature of the species, looks, at first sight, as if there
would be, at an early day, an abandonment of old sites, and the taking
on of new relations. While the species has thus gained a great advantage
in lifting up its nest beyond the power of the waters to do it harm, it
has, by selecting such growths in close contiguity to marshes, shown
its predilection for such places, by reason of the facilities which they
afford for food-detection.
Brewer describes the nest as being placed in low bushes, at a height of
but a few feet from the ground. This is true in certain localities,
but where there is a scarcity of such growths, as is the case where
salt-water marshes abound, then the birds are compelled to resort to
the sedges. In Atlantic County, N. J., in the summer of 1874, as many as
fifty nests were seen and examined thus built, in less than an acre of
ground. The same distinguished writer, in speaking of their composition,
says "they are made externally of coarse sedges firmly interwoven, the
interstices being cemented with clay or mud." And further, that the
upper side of the entrance is "protected from the rain by a projecting
edge." This may be true in certain places, but careful examinations of
a score of nests from as many localities, remotely situated from each
other, fail to show the existence of argillaceous or other elements,
much less the trace of anything that might be exaggerated into a
roof. Audubon describes it as being built among sedges, and as usually
constructed in part of the sedges among which it is placed, a fact which
we have repeatedly confirmed. Usually, when built along the margins of
streams, or by the seashore, the nests are placed from two to two and a
half feet high, so as to be beyond the reach of ordinary tides. Again,
nidification commences at a time when there is little danger to be
apprehended. But should there be an extraordinary rise of waters, and
their home be destroyed, then like true Trojans, when the tide has
subsided, they set zealously to work, and repair the damage. If
irreparable, they succumb to fate, or rear their domicile anew. In
selecting such a site for purposes of nesting, they must run the risk
of having it submerged or demolished, but the chances against such
a catastrophe's occurring, are numerous. These nests of ours, we are
convinced, can withstand the beatings of a summer shower, as well as any
whose walls are mud-cemented.
While some birds excel in singing, others are differently gifted, and
show talents as peculiar and remarkable. Such is the case with the
subject of our sketch. Denied the power of song, he has developed his
faculties in the direction of architecture, not the least interesting
part of his history being his curious habit of nidification. For
convenience, comfort and durability his nest has few equals. It is a
large bulky affair, in shape resembling a cocoanut, and is composed of
the tops of coarse reeds and grasses woven together. This globe-like,
hollow body is secured to the upright stems of the growing reeds,
several of which usually pass through its substance, and supports
a little hole on the side, which looks forward and down into a cosy
chamber, that is well lined with finer leaves of grasses, the dermis of
weeds, and a mixture of soft feathers and wool. In many specimens which
we have met with from time to time, the opening is nearly concealed by
the enveloping grasses, which seem to be purposely arranged with this
object in view. Preparatory to entering the nest, the' stalks are thrust
aside, and are as carefully readjusted when the bird is once there. On
retiring, the same movements are necessary. The flexibility of the grass
aids the birds very materially in these operations.
While most of the nests we have examined correspond in the main with the
above description, we have occasionally met with some which constituted
a noteworthy exception. These structures bear a close resemblance to
those of the Maryland Yellow-throat in configuration, being nearly
oven-shaped. In these cases the openings were large, about two inches in
diameter, and occupied the anterior aspect. The materials of composition
differed but little, on the outside, from those which are generally
found in the typical nest, but, within, they consisted of fine grasses
and silk-like threads of vegetable origin. This nest was placed on the
ground.
The most beautiful nest which we have ever seen was obtained in the
summer of 1878, in the vicinity of Philadelphia, by Isaac Reiff, Esq.
It was placed upon a willow branch, at the height of about fifteen feet
from the ground, and was newly built. In shape it was nearly globular,
four and a half by five inches in the two diameters, and was woven of
the broad leaves of a species of scirpus, closely and evenly, and had
the interstices seamed with brownish down. The opening was hung with
a thin, delicate curtain of gauze, of the same material, which was
continued within, forming a thick bedding of the softest texture, of
which the most voluptuous sybarite might envy its fortunate possessor.
In shape and composition the nests which are found on bushes, bear a
striking resemblance to the one just described, but usually lack its
neat and elegant finish.
The number of structures that may sometimes be seen in a small stretch
of marshy ground, within a few paces of each other, is so astounding,
and apparently so disproportionate to the size of the community
inhabiting it, as to lead to the suspicion that more nests are
constructed than are really needed, the idea being that the nervous,
energetic males keep up building operations while the females are
incubating, as a sort of pastime, or because they have nothing else to
do, and must have some employment for their excessive animal spirits.
However this may be, the old nests remain intact a year or so before
they crumble to pieces, which doubtless will, in a measure, account for
the large numbers that are often to be seen.
The nest having been completed, a few days are allowed for drying before
the female essays to deposit her chocolate-colored treasures, some six
to nine in number. A day is allowed for each egg, usually, but we have
found nests which showed that more than one had been laid on some days,
but these were exceptional cases. The female is the first to incubate.
When tired of the duty, she summons her companion, who is never far
away, and resigns the care to him, while she strays off to a short
distance for food and recreation. At such times, the males are
exceedingly pugnacious, and will not allow any trespassers. The females,
on the contrary, are less demonstrative. After fourteen days of close
sitting and vigilance, the young appear, and need the most assiduous
attentions. And such they receive. Few parents are more devoted. From
early morning until night, the one or the other is on the go, in quest
of some juicy morsel of insect-food for their keen appetites. And what
is their reward? In a fortnight, a whole nest-full of bright, rollicking
and chirping children. Proud of their charges, they still continue to
care for them a week longer, when they lead them one by one out of the
nursery, and introduce them to the world. The young are now old enough
to encounter the dangers and trials of life, while the parents not
contented with having successfully raised one family, after a brief
season of repose, depart to a spot close-by, where they immediately rear
another domicile, which they people as before. This occurs late in June,
or early in July.
The eggs of this Wren are oval in shape; occasionally, spheroidal.
They are generally marked, quite profusely, with blotches of deep
chocolate-brown, so as to present an almost uniform appearance.
Sometimes, a darker area is seen at the larger extremity, or around it.
Again, specimens are met with which display a whitish ground, thickly
dotted with chocolate, or a nearly uniform brownish-white surface, with
a few of the characteristic blotches remaining, as if the color had been
washed out. The average length of a set of nine before us is .65 inches,
and average breadth .50, It is quite common to find a very large number
of eggs, diminutive specimens, called "runt" eggs, which measure only .53
by .46.
[Illustration: 381]
Plate XLV.--COCCYZUS AMERICANUS, (Linn.) Bp.--Yellow-billed Cuckoo.
|The subject, whose habits we are about to introduce to our readers, has
a wide range, and is variously distributed. It is found from Florida to
Canada, and westward from the Atlantic to California. Audubon met with
it along the Mississippi River, the upper branches of the Arkansas, and
also in Upper Canada. Dr. Woodhouse found it quite common in New Mexico,
Texas and the Indian Territory. In Nebraska it appears to be exceedingly
rare, as it was only seen on two occasions by Ridgway in the summer
of 1867. Wilson traced it north to Lake Ontario, from the Choctaw and
Chickasaw nations. Outside of the United States, on the south, it has
been observed by various parties: Newton, upon St. Croix Island; Gosse,
in Jamaica; Salvin, in Central America; Lembeye, in Cuba; and even as
far south as Buenos Ayres.
Respecting its eastern record of distribution, writers on ornithology
are pretty generally agreed. West of the Rocky Mountains, its range is
not so well made out. Early observers accredited it to Oregon, but,
in recent times, there has not appeared any confirmation of their
statements. Its presence, even in California, was for a long time
doubted, and it was thought that, as the notes of the Burrowing Owl
resembled those of the Cuckoo, many may have been deceived thereby. So
close is the likeness, that Dr. Coues acknowledges that he would have
been deluded himself, had he not been forewarned. According to Cooper
the noise produced by the Spade-footed Toad exhibits marked similarity.
But there is now no longer any hesitancy in including it in the
avi-fauna of that State.
We are first apprised of the coming of this species into our midst
by the peculiar notes which it emits. These sound like the syllables
_koo-koo-koo_. As they are probably more frequently uttered on the
approach of falling weather than at any other time, both it and its
nearest relation--the Black-billed Cuckoo--have received the vulgar
appellation of "Rain Crow" for the same uncouth guttural notes are
uttered, in the same plaintive manner, and on similar occasions, by both
birds, with this exception, however, that the Yellow-billed is noisier,
and more forcible in its expressions.
From its first advent late in April, or early in May, until it takes up
the line of flight southward in September, this bird startles us by its
eccentric behavior. Though remarkably shy and unsociable, it is less
so than its congener. In Eastern Pennsylvania, it seldom inhabits high,
open woods, for which the latter has a fondness, but manifests a strong
preference for low hedges along the borders of fields and public roads,
or an isolated pine or apple tree in orchard or garden. In the latter
place it is as often seen in the lower, as in the upper, branches.
Places remote therefrom, in other States, show a marked change in this
respect. Not only does it betray an instinctive dread of man, by seeking
the summits of the tallest trees in loose woods, or those of large
shade-trees in our city parks, but it also studies how best to conceal
itself from his gaze. Though ordinarily hidden birds, but when in search
of the various winged insects which contribute to their sustenance, they
show rather conspicuously. But they are oftener heard than seen. When
ready to change their position, they maintain a long silence, and being
assured that the coast is clear, stealthily glide from their perches,
and on rapid, noiseless pinions, wend their flight to the coveted spot.
On attaining which, they stand like statues for a long time, utter their
famous cry, and when surfeited with the sights about them, renew
their flight. Thus they keep it up until called to desist therefrom by
household duties.
Few species manifest more strongly the faculty of curiosity. When
nestled in umbrageous security, so artfully concealed as to elude
the keen gaze of detection, this bird is wont to eye everything with
inquisitiveness and distrust. Peering down upon you through the dense
foliage, there is nothing in its looks to command your pity; but you
are reminded of one who has been guilty of wrong, and who fears the
consequences. Where accustomed to man, a radical change seems to come
over its demeanor. The eye looks out with a milder expression. When
we remember that, like the Jays, these birds are abandoned thieves
who pilfer the eggs of other and weaker birds, and even devour their
helpless offspring, we are not surprised that they should be so sneaking
in their actions, and cowardlike. But when the mating period arrives,
one would think that the arousing of the hitherto dormant amatory forces
into normal activity, would tend to soften their natures, and call
into play a better state of feelings. So it does, but only so far as
to reconcile the sexes to each other, and force them to forsake their
selfish lives. Towards other species they still preserve the same
unfriendly relations.
The male, who arrives ten days before the female, is the first to
experience a desire for a change of life. Tired of aimless wanderings,
he goes off in search of a companion. He is not long in finding one. A
recital of his love, in his own peculiar fashion, soon gains a willing
listener, and business is settled in an instant. There is none of that
amusing frivolity which is known to mark the actions of many of our
feathered creatures. He proposes, she accepts, and the matrimonial knot
is tied, at least, for another season. While the sexes do not manifest
any apparent regard for each other for two or three weeks after their
first arrival, being chiefly absorbed in the procurement of food, yet
they do not wholly desert each other, but feed within calling distance.
From long observations, continued through nearly two decades, we are led
to believe that the same birds mate annually, unless prevented by the
death of one or the other.
In the choice of a tree these birds are somewhat fastidious in some
localities. A preference is often manifested for some species of
evergreen, but not unfrequently are they tempted to nest in an osage
orange, a barberry bush, a thorn, or an apple. The kind of a bush or
tree will doubtless be found to vary with locality. While engaged in
looking for a suitable nesting place, the male is very attentive to his
partner, and cannot brook her absence. He watches with jealous eye her
every movement, and follows her in all her journeyings. Though usually
quite cowardly, he is at these times very brave, and will venture to
attack any bird that happens near. But as his cowardice is proverbial,
he rarely succeeds with birds of his own size, and is often compelled to
retire from the battle discomfited.
When a tree is chosen, the happy pair proceed to build their loose,
rickety dwelling upon a forked or horizontal branch, at elevations
varying from five to seldom more than twenty feet, according to our
experience. The nest may be compared to a miniature Crow's. It is
mainly composed of small sticks and some grasses, artlessly and loosely
interlaced, and so unsubstantial, that it scarcely survives the season.
The cavity is quite shallow. The dimensions vary somewhat with the
locality, but a specimen before us measures seven inches in diameter,
and about three in height. The cavity is nearly four inches wide,
and less than one in depth. The construction of such a loose affair
ordinarily requires but two days, and is the result of the united
efforts of both birds, working with commendable patience and zeal, but
not continuously.
As soon as the domicile is finished, the female, after a day spent in
congratulating her lord upon their combined success, proceeds to furnish
it. This business continues for many days, varying according to the
number of eggs laid, and the irregularity in time of laying, eggs being
frequently deposited about the time that others are hatching. Nests are
often found with a single fresh egg in each, another partly incubated,
a newly-hatched bird, and one or more young still further advanced.
But, as a rule, only a single egg is daily deposited. Incubation, in
the latitude of Philadelphia, often commences when only two eggs are
deposited, but instances are recorded where such was the case after the
first extrusion, the female depositing others as the process goes on.
This seems like a strange fancy of hers, but evidently shows great
forethought and prevision.
The rude house which is built for the accommodation of the eggs, being
open and much exposed, and made of seemingly unsuitable materials, fails
to provide the necessary protection, and thus is necessitated close and
arduous sitting by both birds. The hatching of a few young birds at the
time when eggs are being laid, secures the continued warmth necessary
for development, and thus materially aids parental exertions. In many
instances the eggs are deposited before the incubating process has
commenced. The time required for hatching is about fourteen days.
While this business is progressing, the male, when not upon the nest,
seldom forsakes his partner, save to provide himself and her with food.
Perched upon a small limb close-by, he seems all vigilance, and is in
constant readiness to reply to her calls. Feelings of the most devoted
affection are mutually exchanged. If the eggs are handled, prior to the
assumption of incubation, the birds are apt to desert the nest; but when
this has commenced, the female is so attached to her young that she will
almost permit herself to be captured rather than leave them. If forced
to vacate, we have never known her to precipitate herself upon the
ground, and seek, by her fluttering and personation of lameness, to draw
the intruder away, as Nuttall affirms, but have always observed her to
take a position upon a tree in the immediate vicinity, where she would
sit silently and demurely contemplating the purposed desecration. Mr.
Newton, in his paper on the habits of the birds of St. Croix Island,
testifies to the conjugal affection which is evinced by these birds. On
one occasion a male had been killed. The female, attracted by his shriek
as he fell to the ground, appeared upon the scene, and showed the most
intense anxiety.
In the summer of 1872, a nest of this species was placed upon a tree
within full view of our window, from which the minutest details of the
every-day life of these birds could be closely studied. Children in
their plays would frequently pass under the tree while the birds were
engaged in breeding, but the latter were so intent upon the work that
their presence was unheeded. The nest was completed, eggs were deposited
and hatched, and the young matured, the parent birds evidently feeling
as secure as in more retired situations. On this occasion it was
discovered that when the young were all hatched together, the duty of
feeding devolved upon one or the other parent, both never being absent
from the nest at the same time. But, on the other hand, where the young
are hatched at irregular intervals, the non-incubating bird assumes the
duty of providing nourishment both for his mate and early-hatched young,
while the other is occupied with the cares of incubation. When the young
are able to quit the nest, which they do in little more than a fortnight
after hatching, the parents hail the event with great joy. Their efforts
to induce them from the nest at first are rather amusing, and evince
extreme patience and thorough good-will. But when the step is once
taken, their odd, curious gestures betoken the highest pleasure
and satisfaction. The young are now almost old enough to care for
themselves.
Never more than a single brood is annually raised in Pennsylvania,
although Mr. Nuttall affirms that several are brought out, according
to his observations. His opinion appears to have been based upon the
discovery of eggs as late as August 28. In some localities this may be
so, but we cannot find any record thereof. The same distinguished writer
has recorded the finding of a Cuckoo's egg in the nest of a Catbird, and
another as late as the fifteenth of July, in a Robin's nest. These were
considered at first as rare, if not incredible instances, but latterly,
we have some well-authenticated cases of such parasitism. These
observations, coupled with others equally as important which have been
recorded, tend to show a close relationship between our American Cuckoo
and their not very distant European brother.
The eggs of this bird are oblong-oval, less spherical than those of the
Black-bill, and have an equal obtuseness at each end. They are of light
bluish-green color, and, like those of the other, are quite apt to fade
on exposure to light, thus rendering them difficult of distinction. The
average measurement is 1.22 inches in length, and .94 in width, although
specimens are occasionally found which show marked variations in size,
some being smaller, but few exceeding these dimensions.
[Illustration: 389]
Plate XLVI.--ICTERIA VIRENS, (Linn.) Baird.--Yellow-breasted Chat.
|Probably no species possesses greater peculiarities of voice, manners
and habits than the one we are about to notice. Somewhat terrestrial
in life, frequenting tangled vines and brambles, it seemingly abhors
publicity, and is best pleased when under concealment. When hid away
in its almost inaccessible retreats it is hard to locate, and this
difficulty is enhanced by its wonderful powers of ventriloquism. It is a
restless being, however, delighting in new sights and scenes, and though
its movements are well-timed and silent, yet it does not always escape
detection.