Few birds indeed can lay claim to such beautiful and varied dress as
our native paroquet. But for this dress and for certain habits which
will be spoken of more particularly a little later, he has had to pay a
most severe penalty. Once an abundant bird over the whole southeastern
portion of the country, ranging commonly as far north as southern Ohio
and Illinois, and sometimes even as far north as southern Michigan and
New York, and as far west as eastern Colorado, his numbers and range
have been reduced to a few individuals in the wilds of the Indian
Territory and the adjacent parts of Texas, and the fastnesses of the
Florida swamps. The region over which he ranged so numerously in
advance of civilization, suffers a distinct loss in his extermination.
It is hardly fair to lay the blame for the disappearance of this bird
solely at the door of the plume-hunters and collectors, for it must be
admitted that the paroquet was a real menace to the fruit-grower and
farmer when he was abundant. Even his extreme fondness for the fruit of
the cockle-bur, thistle, and a few other noxious plants, could hardly
atone for the complete ruin of the apple crop, or his serious inroads
upon the wheat or corn field. One could not stand tamely by while a
flock of these birds, with all their beauty, stripped his orchard of
every blossom and bud.
The food of the paroquet was entirely vegetable, consisting of the seed
of the cockle-bur, as already stated, sycamore and cypress seed, pecan
and beech nuts, the fruit of the pawpaw, mulberries, wild grapes and
various other wild fruits as well as cultivated fruits, the seeds of
pine cones and the burgrass. Grains of various kinds were eaten while
in the milk, and Mr. Frank M. Chapman found them eating the seeds of
thistles. So varied a diet enabled these birds to pass the winter in
the northern parts of their range as well as farther south. It has
been stated that paroquets have been found hibernating in hollow trees
in the coldest winters. If they were actually found in such places they
were undoubtedly simply taking refuge from some severe storm, to issue
forth again when it had passed.
The paroquet's strong, hooked beak was probably so formed for the
cutting of stems and husks of plants and the crushing of seeds and
nuts, but he also finds it useful in climbing about trees as an aid to
his yoked feet, and as a partial support while he sleeps in some hollow
tree, the bill being hooked over a projection or into a convenient
crevice.
Major Charles E. Bendire describes the flight as undulating, like
that of the woodpeckers, but very swift, accompanied by a continuous
chattering while on the wing. The birds remain together in flocks
of from six to twenty individuals (before they became so scarce, by
hundreds), and are very devoted to each other. The cries of a wounded
companion will always recall the whole flock to his aid, thus enabling
the hunter to kill every bird in the flock. It is this characteristic,
no doubt, which has very largely caused the rapid disappearance of the
birds before advancing civilization.
The nesting-habits of the paroquet are in some doubt, but the evidence
seems to indicate that the birds may rear their brood either in a
cavity in a tree or build a slight nest after the fashion of the
mourning-dove. Such nests seem to be largely confined to the cypress
swamps of Florida. The eggs, several of which have been secured from
birds in confinement, are pure glossy white, smooth, and rather
ovate in shape, somewhat larger than those of the mourning-dove, and
averaging 1.39 × 1.07 of an inch.
These birds seem to nest in colonies, a fact which led Major Bendire to
suggest that when the colonies were very large the birds were forced to
build open nests from a lack of suitable nesting-places in cavities.
The cry is described as "shrill and disagreeable, a kind of grating,
metallic shriek." One call resembles the shrill cry of a goose. They
sometimes give utterance to low conversational notes while perched.
It seems almost incredible that scarcely more than half a century
has witnessed the passing of a once abundant species of our native
bird. Like the bison, the paroquet has been swept away by the rushing
tide of progress, leaving only fading memories where once they were
characteristic features of the landscape. We may congratulate ourselves
that there are few of our birds and mammals that find it so impossible
to survive the advance of civilization.