(_Regulus calendula_) Kinglet family
_Called also_: RUBY-CROWNED WREN; RUBY-CROWNED WARBLER
(Illustration facing p. 187)
_Length_--4.25 to 4.5 inches. About two inches smaller than
the English sparrow.
_Male_--Upper parts grayish olive-green, brighter nearer the
tail; wings and tail dusky, edged with yellowish olive. Two
whitish wing-bars. Breast and underneath light yellowish gray.
In the adult male a vermilion spot on crown of his ash-gray
head.
_Female_--Similar, but without the vermilion crest.
_Range_--North America. Breeds from northern United States
northward. Winters from southern limits of its breeding range
to Central America and Mexico.
_Migrations_--October. April. Rarely a winter resident at the
North. Most common during its migrations.
A trifle larger than the golden-crowned kinglet, with a vermilion
crest instead of a yellow and flame one, and with a decided preference
for a warmer winter climate, and the ruby-crown's chief distinguishing
characteristics are told. These rather confusing relatives would be
less puzzling if it were the habit of either to keep quiet long enough
to focus the opera-glasses on their crowns, which it only rarely is
while some particularly promising haunt of insects that lurk beneath
the rough bark of the evergreens has to be thoroughly explored. At all
other times both kinglets keep up an incessant fluttering and
twinkling among the twigs and leaves at the ends of the branches,
jerking their tiny bodies from twig to twig in the shrubbery, hanging
head downward, like a nuthatch, and most industriously feeding every
second upon the tiny insects and larvA| hidden beneath the bark and
leaves. They seem to be the feathered expression of perpetual motion.
And how dainty and charming these tiny sprites are! They are not at
all shy; you may approach them quite close if you will, for the birds
are simply too intent on their business to be concerned with yours.
If a sharp lookout be kept for these ruby-crowned migrants, that too
often slip away to the south before we know they have come, we notice
that they appear about a fortnight ahead of the golden-crested
species, since the mild, soft air of our Indian summer is exactly to
their liking. At this season there is nothing in the bird's "thin,
metallic call-note, like a vibrating wire," to indicate that he is one
of our finest songsters. But listen for him during the spring
migration, when a love-song is already ripening in his tiny throat.
What a volume of rich, lyrical melody pours from the Norway spruce,
where the little musician is simply practising to perfect the richer,
fuller song that he sings to his nesting mate in the far north! The
volume is really tremendous, coming from so tiny a throat. Those who
have heard it in northern Canada describe it as a flute-like and
mellow warble full of intricate phrases past the imitating. Dr. Coues
says of it: "The kinglet's exquisite vocalization defies description."
Curiously enough, the nest of this bird, that is not at all rare, has
been discovered only six times. It would appear to be over-large for
the tiny bird, until we remember that kinglets are wont to have a
numerous progeny in their pensile, globular home. It is made of light,
flimsy material--moss, strips of bark, and plant-fibre well knit
together and closely lined with feathers, which must be a grateful
addition to the babies, where they are reared in evergreens in cold,
northern woods.