United States, and are met with as far north as the Saskatchewan River,
where, according to Dr RICHARDSON, some of them spend the winter,
none have yet been seen nearer the shores of the Atlantic than the
head waters of the Red River in Louisiana, where they were seen in
abundance by the lamented Colonel PIKE, then a lieutenant in the United
States’ army. His notice, although already published by WILSON, so
well describes the habits of this species, that I repeat it here with
pleasure. “Our horses,” he says, “were obliged to scrape the snow away
to obtain their miserable pittance; and, to increase their misfortune,
the poor animals were attacked by the Magpies, who, attracted by the
scent of their sore backs, alighted on them, and, in defiance of their
wincing and kicking, picked many places quite raw; the difficulty of
procuring food rendering those birds so bold as to alight on our men’s
arms, and eat meat out of their hands.” To CLARKE and LEWIS, however,
is due the first introduction of this bird into the Fauna of the United
States. These intrepid travellers first observed the Magpie near the
great bend of the Missouri, although it was known to have been obtained
at the fur-trading factories of the Hudson’s Bay Company.
There is a difference of opinion as to the identity of the Magpie of
America and that of Europe. THOMAS NUTTALL, who has seen those of both
countries, as well as their nests, and observed their habits, assures
me, that he looks upon them as clearly of the same species. Captain
SABINE thought differently, and CHARLES BONAPARTE, after remarking in
his “Observations on the Nomenclature of WILSON,” that “it is not a
little singular that this species, which is so common in every part
of Europe, should be confined in its range on this continent to the
western and northern regions,” thus plainly indicating his belief of
their identity, names it, in a list of European and North American
Birds, published in London in April 1838, “_Pica Hudsonica_. Nob.” the
European bird being at the same time ticketed “_Pica melanoleuca_.”
Mr SWAINSON, in the Fauna Boreali-Americana, remarks on comparing
them:—“We cannot perceive the slightest difference whereon to build
even the character of a variety, much less a species;” and this truly
is my own opinion.
The following notice regarding our bird was given me by my friend
THOMAS NUTTALL:—“On the 15th of July, arriving at the borders of the
Shoshonee, or Snake River, we first met with the Common Magpie on our
route, mostly accompanied by the Raven, but there were no Crows. The
young birds were so familiar and greedy, approaching the encampment
in quest of food, as to be easily taken by the Indian boys, when they
soon become reconciled to savage domesticity. The old birds were
sufficiently shy, but the young were observed hopping and croaking
around us, and tugging at any offal of flesh meat thrown out, like
so many vultures. Differing so far from the proscribed and persecuted
Magpies of Europe, these, at least the young, seemed evidently to court
the advantages of society in supplying them with food, and betrayed
scarcely any alarm on our approach. If chased off for an instant,
they returned the next, and their monotonous and gluttonous croak was
heard around us at all hours of the day. The dryness of the season,
and the scarcity of insects and small birds, urged them no doubt to
this unusual familiarity with their doubtful friend and frequent enemy,
man. By the borders of streams in the central table-land of the Rocky
Mountains, in several places we saw the old nests of the Magpie, made
usually in low but thick bushes in the usual manner, barricaded over
and floored with interlaced twigs. We scarcely ever saw them at all
in the heavy forests of the Lower Columbia, any more than the Platte
and Missouri, in all which places they are merely accidental visitors.
They are not uncommon, however, in the vicinity of Monterey in Upper
California. Their common call is _pay pay_, and the usual low social
chatter when approaching their companions. I one day observed a small
flock, and among the fraternity heard one chattering familiarly in the
varied tune of the Cat-bird, as he sat on a bough by the water, where
birds might become his prey. At another time I observed a flock of
young Magpies boldly persecuting other birds, and chasing even Pigeon
Hawks.”
The following characteristic account of the habits of the Magpie as
observed in Scotland, I have extracted from my friend MACGILLIVRAY’s
“History of British Birds.” “It is generally distributed in Britain,
being more or less common in all the cultivated and wooded districts
of England and Scotland, both in the interior and along the coast,
although nowhere numerous, on account of the hostility of gamekeepers,
gardeners, and sportsmen of all degrees. There, on the old ash that
overshadows the farm-yard, you may see a pair, one perched on the
topmost twig, the other hopping among the branches, uttering an
incessant clatter of short hard notes, scarcely resembling any thing
else in nature, but withal not unpleasant, at least to the lover of
birds. How gracefully she of the top twig swings in the breeze! Off
she starts, and directing her flight towards the fir wood opposite,
proceeds with a steady, moderately rapid, but rather heavy flight,
performed by quick beats of her apparently short wings, intermitted for
a moment at intervals. Chattering by the way, she seems to call her
mate after her; but he, intent on something which he has spied, hops
downwards from twig to branch, and descends to the ground. Raising his
body as high as possible, and carrying his tail inclined upwards, to
avoid contact with the moist grass, he walks a few paces, and spying an
earthworm half protruded from its hole, drags it out by a sudden jerk,
breaks it in pieces, and swallows it. Now, under the hedge he has found
a snail, which he will presently detach from its shell. But something
among the bushes has startled him, and lightly he springs upwards,
chattering the while, to regain his favourite tree. It is a cat, which,
not less frightened than himself, runs off toward the house. The Magpie
again descends, steps slowly over the green, looking from side to
side, stops and listens, advances rapidly by a succession of leaps,
and encounters a whole brood of chickens, with their mother at their
heels. Were they unprotected, how deliciously would the Magpie feast,
but alas, it is vain to think of it, for with fury in her eye, bristled
plumage, and loud clamour, headlong rushes the hen, overturning two
of her younglings, when the enemy suddenly wheels round, avoiding the
encounter, and flies off after his mate.
There again, you perceive them in the meadow, as they walk about, with
elevated tails, looking for something eatable, although apparently
with little success. By the hedge afar off are two boys with a gun,
endeavouring to creep up to a flock of plovers on the other side. But
the Magpies have observed them, and presently rising fly directly over
the field, chattering vehemently, on which the whole flock takes to
wing, and the disappointed sportsmen sheer off in another direction.
The food of the Magpie consists of testaceous mollusca, slugs, larvæ,
worms, young birds, eggs, small quadrupeds, carrion, sometimes grain
and fruits of different kinds, in search of which it frequents the
fields, hedges, thickets, and orchards, occasionally visits the
farm-yard, prowls among the stacks, perches on the house-top, whence
it sallies at times, and examines the dunghill and places around.
Although it searches for larvæ and worms in the ploughed fields, it
never ventures, like the Rook, and several species of Gull, to follow
the plough as it turns over each successive furrow. It has been accused
of picking the eyes of lambs and sickly sheep, I think with injustice;
but it sometimes carries off a chicken or duckling, and sucks an egg
that may have been dropt abroad.
It is extremely shy and vigilant in the vicinity of towns, where it
is much molested, but less so in country places, although even there
it is readily alarmed. When one pursues it openly, it flits along the
walls and hedges, shifts from tree to tree, and at length flies off to
a distance. Yet it requires all its vigilance to preserve its life;
for, as it destroys the eggs and young of game birds, it is keenly
pursued by keepers and sportsmen, so that one might marvel to find
it maintaining its ground as a species, and yet it is not apparently
diminishing in most parts of the country.
On the ground it generally walks in the same manner as the Crows, but
occasionally leaps in a sidelong direction. The sounds which it emits
are a sort of chuckling cry or chatter, which it utters when alarmed,
as well as when it wishes to apprize other birds of danger. On the
appearance of a fox, a cat, or other unfriendly animal, it never ceases
hovering about it, and alarming the neighbourhood by its cries, until
the enemy has slunk away out of sight.
It generally keeps in pairs all the year round, accompanies its young
for some weeks after they first come abroad, and after the breeding
season retires at night to the copses or woods, where sometimes a
considerable number meet together. It begins to construct its nest
early in March, selecting as its site the top of some tall tree,
a poplar, an ash, an elm, sometimes a willow, or a beech; or, in
defect of such in a favourite locality, placing it in a thick bush of
hawthorn, holly, or other low tree, or even in a hedge. It is a large,
and therefore generally very conspicuous fabric, of a spheroidal or
elliptical form, composed first of a layer of twigs, on which is laid a
quantity of mud; then a dome of twigs, frequently hawthorn or sloe, but
as often of any other kind, loosely but securely interlaced; while the
bottom of the interior is lined with fibrous roots; and there is left
in the side an aperture not much larger than is barely sufficient to
admit the bird. The eggs are from three to six, and differ considerably
in form and colouring. In general, they are regularly ovate, or a
little pointed, about an inch and five-twelfths long, eleven and a half
twelfths or an inch across; but sometimes more elongated by one-twelfth
of an inch, or abbreviated by nearly the same quantity. Frequently they
are pale green freckled all over with umber-brown and light purple, and
sometimes pale blue or bluish-white, or greenish-white, with smaller
spots and dots of the same dark colours, so as very nearly to resemble
the eggs of the Jay, which however are smaller.
CORVUS PICA, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 157.—_Lath._
Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 162—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synopsis of
Birds of United States, p. 57.—_Richards. and Swains._ Fauna
Bor.-Amer. vol. ii. p. 292.
CORVUS HUDSONIUS, _Sabine_, Frankl. Journ. p. 671.
MAGPIE, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. i. p. 219.
Adult Male. Plate CCCLVII. Fig. 1.
Bill rather shorter than the head, straight, robust, compressed; upper
mandible with the dorsal line convex and declinate, the sides convex,
the edges sharp, with a slight notch close to the tip, which is rather
sharp; lower mandible straight, the angle rather long and wide, the
dorsal outline very slightly convex and ascending, the sides convex,
the edges sharp and inclinate. Nostrils basal, lateral, roundish,
covered by bristly feathers, which are directed forwards.
Head large, ovate; eyes of moderate size; neck rather short; body
compact. Legs of moderate length, strong; tarsus with seven large
anterior scutella, and two long plates behind, meeting so as to form
a sharp edge. Toes stout, with large scutella, separated almost to the
base; first very strong; lateral toes nearly equal, third considerably
longer. Claws strong, arched, compressed, sharp, the third with the
inner edge somewhat dilated.
Plumage full, soft, blended; stiff bristly feathers with disunited
barbs over the nostrils, some of them extending nearly half the
length of the bill; feathers on the throat with the shaft downy, and
prolonged. Wings of moderate length, much rounded; the first quill
very short, extremely narrow, and falciform, the second two inches and
four-twelfths longer, and about the same length as the ninth; the third
an inch and a quarter longer than the second, and four-twelfths shorter
than the fourth, which is the longest by half a twelfth or so. The tail
is very long, much graduated, the lateral feather being four inches and
nine-twelfths shorter than the middle.
Bill and feet black. Iris dark brown. The plumage of the head, neck,
fore part of the breast and back, black, the feathers on the latter
part being very long, and although rising between the shoulders
extending nearly to the rump; the top of the head, and the back,
glossed with green, the neck tinged with blue, the shafts of the
throat-feathers grey. The feathers on the middle of the back are
greyish-white, those behind tipped with black; rum and tail-coverts
bluish-black. The scapulars are white; the smaller wing-coverts
black, the secondary coverts, alula, and primary coverts splendent
with bronzed green; primaries black, glossed with green, their
inner webs white excepting at the end and for some way along the
margin; secondaries bright blue changing to green, their inner
webs greenish-black. Tail splendent with bright green, changing to
greenish-yellow, purplish-red, bluish-purple and dark green at the
end; the inner webs chiefly greenish-black, but with various tints.
The breast and sides are pure white; legs, abdominal region, lower
tail-coverts, and lower wing-coverts black.
Length to end of tail 18-1/2 inches, to end of wings 11-3/8; extent of
wings 22-1/2; wing from flexure 8; tail 10-1/2; bill along the ridge
1-(4-1/2)/12; tarsus 1-(10-1/2)/12; first toe 8/12, its claw 10/12;
middle toe 1-2/12, its claw 6/12.
Adult Female. Plate CCCLVII.
The Female is similar to the male, and little inferior in size.
Five American specimens compared with several European, present no
appearances indicative of a specific difference. Some individuals of
both countries are larger than others, and the tail differs much in
length, according to age or the growth of the feathers. The largest
specimen in my possession, presented to me by Dr RICHARDSON, and marked
as shot by Mr DRUMMOND, measures as follows:—Length to end of tail
20-1/2 inches; bill along the ridge 1-7/12; tail 11-3/4; wing from
flexure 8-9/12; tarsus 2; middle toe 1-1/12, its claw (7-1/2)/12. In
this individual the feathers on the fore neck are white for more than
half their length from the base. In the other specimens this white part
is fainter or light grey, and of less extent.
PINE GROSBEAK.
_PYRRHULA ENUCLEATOR_, TEMM.
PLATE CCCLVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.
In WILSON’s time, this beautiful bird was rare in Pennsylvania; but
since then it has occasionally been seen in considerable numbers,
and in the winter of 1836 my young friend J. TRUDEAU, M. D. procured
several in the vicinity of Philadelphia. That season also they were
abundant in the States of New York and Massachusetts. Some have been
procured near the mouth of the Big Guyandotte on the Ohio; and Mr
NUTTALL has observed it on the lower parts of the Missouri. I have
ascertained it to be a constant resident in the State of Maine, and
have met with it on several islands in the Bay of Fundy, as well as in
Newfoundland and Labrador. Dr RICHARDSON mentions it as having been
observed by the Expedition in the 50th parallel, and as a constant
resident at Hudson’s Bay. It is indeed the hardiest bird of its tribe
yet discovered in North America, where even the Rose-breasted Grosbeak,
though found during summer in Newfoundland and Labrador, removes in
autumn to countries farther south than the Texas, where as late as the
middle of May I saw many in their richest plumage.
The Pine Grosbeak is a charming songster. Well do I remember how
delighted I felt, while lying on the moss-clad rocks of Newfoundland,
near St George’s Bay, I listened to its continuous lay, so late as
the middle of August, particularly about sunset. I was reminded of the
pleasure I had formerly enjoyed on the banks of the clear Mohawk, under
nearly similar circumstances, when lending an attentive ear to the
mellow notes of another Grosbeak. But, Reader, at Newfoundland I was
still farther removed from my beloved family; the scenery around was
thrice wilder and more magnificent. The stupendous dark granite rocks,
fronting the north, as if bidding defiance to the wintry tempests,
brought a chillness to my heart, as I thought of the hardships endured
by those intrepid travellers who, for the advancement of science,
had braved the horrors of the polar winter. The glowing tints of the
western sky, and the brightening stars twinkling over the waters of the
great Gulf, rivetted me to the spot, and the longer I gazed, the more
I wished to remain; but darkness was suddenly produced by the advance
of a mass of damp fog, the bird ceased its song, and all around seemed
transformed into chaos. Silently I groped my way to the beach, and soon
reached the Ripley.
The young gentlemen of my party, accompanied by my son JOHN WOODHOUSE,
and a Newfoundland Indian, had gone into the interior in search of Rein
Deer, but returned the following afternoon, having found the flies and
musquitoes intolerable. My son brought a number of Pine Grosbeaks, of
different sexes, young and adult, but all the latter in moult, and
patched with dark red, ash, black and white. It was curious to see
how covered with sores the legs of the old birds of both sexes were.
These sores or excrescences are, I believe, produced by the resinous
matter of the fir-trees on which they obtain their food. Some specimens
had the hinder part of the tarsi more than double the usual size, the
excrescences could not be removed by the hand, and I was surprised
that the birds had not found means of ridding themselves of such an
inconvenience. One of the figures in my plate represents the form of
these sores.
I was assured that during mild winters, the Pine Grosbeak is found
in the forests of Newfoundland in considerable numbers, and that some
remain during the most severe cold. A lady who had resided there many
years, and who was fond of birds, assured me that she had kept several
males in cages; that they soon became familiar, would sing during the
night, and fed on all sorts of fruits and berries during the summer,
and on seeds of various kinds in winter; that they were fond of
bathing, but liable to cramps; and that they died of sores produced
around their eyes and the base of the upper mandible. I have observed
the same to happen to the Cardinal and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks.
The flight of this bird is undulating and smooth, performed in a direct
line when it is migrating, at a considerable height above the forests,
and in groups of from five to ten individuals. They alight frequently
during the day, on such trees as are opening their buds or blossoms.
At such times they are extremely gentle, and easily approached, are
extremely fond of bathing, and whether on the ground or on branches,
move by short leaps. I have been much surprised to see, on my having
fired, those that were untouched, fly directly towards me, until within
a few feet, and then slide off and alight on the lower branches of the
nearest tree, where, standing as erect as little Hawks, they gazed
upon me as if I were an object quite new, and of whose nature they
were ignorant. They are easily caught under snow-shoes put up with a
figure of four, around the wood-cutters camps, in the State of Maine,
and are said to afford good eating. Their food consists of the buds
and seeds of almost all sorts of trees. Occasionally also they seize a
passing insect. I once knew one of these sweet songsters, which, in the
evening, as soon as the lamp was lighted in the room where its cage was
hung, would instantly tune its voice anew.
My kind friend THOMAS M’CULLOCH of Pictou in Nova Scotia, has sent me
the following notice, which I trust will prove as interesting to you
as it has been to me. “Last winter the snow was exceedingly deep, and
the storms so frequent and violent that many birds must have perished
in consequence of the scarcity of food. The Pine Grosbeaks being driven
from the woods, collected about the barns in great numbers, and even
in the streets of Pictou they frequently alighted in search of food.
A pair of these birds which had been recently taken were brought me
by a friend, but they were in such a poor emaciated condition, that I
almost despaired of being able to preserve them alive. Being anxious,
however, to note for you the changes of their plumage, I determined to
make the attempt; but notwithstanding all my care, they died a few days
after they came into my possession. Shortly after, I received a male
in splendid plumage, but so emaciated that he seemed little else than
a mass of feathers. By more cautious feeding, however, he soon regained
his flesh, and became so tame as to eat from my hand without the least
appearance of fear. To reconcile him gradually to confinement, he was
permitted to fly about my bedroom, and upon rising in the morning, the
first thing I did was to give him a small quantity of seed. But three
mornings in succession I happened to lie rather later than usual, and
each morning I was aroused by the bird fluttering upon my shoulder,
and calling for his usual allowance. The third morning, I allowed him
to flutter about me some time before shewing any symptom of being
awake, but he no sooner observed that his object was effected than
he retired to the window and waited patiently until I arose. As the
spring approached, he used to whistle occasionally in the morning,
and his notes, like those of his relative the Rose-breasted Grosbeak,
were exceedingly rich and full. About the time, however, when the
species began to remove to the north, his former familiarity entirely
disappeared. During the day he never rested a moment, but continued to
run from one side of the window to the other, seeking a way of escape,
and frequently during the night, when the moonlight would fall upon the
window, I was awakened by him dashing against the glass. The desire of
liberty seemed at last to absorb every other feeling, and during four
days I could not detect the least diminution in the quantity of his
food, while at the same time he filled the house with a piteous wailing
cry, which no person could hear without feeling for the poor captive.
Unable to resist his appeals, I gave him his release; but when this
was attained he seemed very careless of availing himself of it. Having
perched upon the top of a tree in front of the house, he arranged
his feathers, and looked about him for a short time. He then alighted
by the door, and I was at last obliged to drive him away, lest some
accident should befall him.
“These birds are subject to a curious disease, which I have never seen
in any other. Irregularly shaped whitish masses are formed upon the
legs and feet. To the eye these lumps appear not unlike pieces of lime;
but when broken, the interior presents a congeries of minute cells, as
regularly and beautifully formed as those of a honey-comb. Sometimes,
though rarely, I have seen the whole of the legs and feet covered with
this substance, and when the crust was broken, the bone was bare, and
the sinews seemed almost altogether to have lost the power of moving
the feet. An acquaintance of mine kept one of these birds during the
summer months. It became quite tame, but at last it lost the power
of its legs and died. By this person I was informed that his Grosbeak
usually sang during a thunder-storm, or when rain was falling on the
house.”