THE CHILDREN'S BOOK OF BIRDS
[Illustration: BARN SWALLOW]
THE CHILDREN'S BOOK OF BIRDS
BY
OLIVE THORNE MILLER
WITH SIXTEEN COLORED PLATES AND MANY OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
COPYRIGHT, 1899 AND 1901, BY H. M. MILLER
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
PREFACE
THE CHILDREN'S BOOK OF BIRDS combines under a single cover the First and
Second Books of Birds, originally published in 1899 and 1901
respectively and still popular with children in and out of school and
with other beginners in the study of birds.
The book is intended to interest young people in the ways and habits of
birds and to stimulate them to further study. It has grown out of my
experience in talking to schools. From the youngest kindergarten scholar
to boys and girls of sixteen and eighteen, I have never failed to find
young people intensely interested so long as I would tell them about bow
the birds live.
Some of the results of these talks that have come to my knowledge have
been astonishing and far-reaching, such as that of one boy of seven or
eight, who persuaded the village boys around his summer home to give up
taking eggs and killing birds, and watch them instead, and who was
dubbed "Professor" by his eager followers. The effect has always been to
make children love and respect the living bird.
It has therefore seemed to me that what is needed at first is not the
science of ornithology,--however diluted,--but some account of the life
and habits, to arouse sympathy and interest in the living bird, neither
as a target nor as a producer of eggs, but as a fellow-creature whose
acquaintance it would be pleasant to make.
Naturally I have drawn on my own observations for much of the matter
contained in this book, but these have been supplemented by consultation
of recognized authorities in the various fields of ornithology.
In each bird family treated of in the Second Book I have given accounts
of species to be found in the South and West as well as in the Eastern
States, and I have selected the most common or typical species of each
family. In cases where it was possible, I have chosen species
represented in the different sections of the country, not only because
the family traits are better shown, but because it is more encouraging
to a beginner to become acquainted with birds he can see almost
anywhere. When familiar with these, he will be able to identify and
study the rarer species.
OLIVE THORNE MILLER.
CONTENTS
FIRST BOOK
I. WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW 1
II. WHEN THEY COME IN THE SPRING 3
THE NESTLING
III. THE BIRD'S HOME 9
IV. THE BABY BIRD 13
V. HOW HE IS FED 17
VI. HIS FIRST SUIT 21
VII. HOW HE CHANGES HIS CLOTHES 25
VIII. HIS FIRST FLIGHT 29
IX. HIS EDUCATION 33
X. SOME OF HIS LESSONS 37
THE BIRD GROWN UP
XI. THE BIRD'S LANGUAGE 43
XII. WHAT HE EATS 48
XIII. MORE ABOUT HIS FOOD 52
XIV. WHERE HE SLEEPS 57
XV. HIS TRAVELS 61
XVI. HIS WINTER HOME 66
XVII. HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS 70
XVIII. HIS KINDNESS TO OTHERS 74
XIX. HIS AFFECTIONS 78
XX. HIS INTELLIGENCE 83
HOW HE IS MADE
XXI. HIS BODY 91
XXII. HIS BEAK AND TONGUE 95
XXIII. HIS EYES AND EARS 100
XXIV. HIS FEET AND LEGS 105
XXV. HIS WINGS AND TAIL 109
XXVI. HIS DRESS 114
XXVII. DIFFERENT COLORED SUITS 118
HIS RELATIONS WITH US
XXVIII. HOW HE WORKS FOR US 125
XXIX. HOW TO ATTRACT HIM ABOUT OUR HOMES 131
XXX. HOW TO STUDY HIM 136
SECOND BOOK
I. WHAT IS A BIRD FAMILY? 1
II. THE THRUSH FAMILY 5
American Robin 6
Hermit Thrush 11
III. THE KINGLET AND GNATCATCHER FAMILY 14
Ruby-crowned Kinglet 14
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher 16
IV. THE NUTHATCH AND CHICKADEE FAMILY 18
White-breasted Nuthatch 18
Red-breasted Nuthatch 20
Chickadee 22
Tufted Titmouse 24
V. THE CREEPER FAMILY 27
Brown Creeper 27
VI. THE CAVE-DWELLING FAMILY (First Branch) 30
House Wren 31
VII. THE CAVE-DWELLING FAMILY (Second Branch) 34
Mockingbird 34
Catbird 37
Thrasher 40
VIII. THE DIPPER FAMILY 42
American Dipper 42
IX. THE WAGTAIL FAMILY 46
Sprague's Pipit 46
X. THE WARBLER FAMILY 49
Yellow Warbler 50
Oven-bird 52
Yellow-breasted Chat 53
XI. THE VIREO FAMILY 55
Yellow-throated Vireo 56
Warbling Vireo 57
XII. THE SHRIKE FAMILY 59
Loggerhead Shrike 59
XIII. THE WAXWING FAMILY 63
Cedar-bird 63
Phainopepla 67
XIV. THE SWALLOW FAMILY 69
Barn Swallow 69
Cliff Swallow, or Eave Swallow 72
Purple Martin 72
XV. THE TANAGER FAMILY 75
Scarlet Tanager 75
Summer Tanager 78
Louisiana Tanager 78
XVI. THE SPARROW AND FINCH FAMILY 80
SPARROWS
Song Sparrow 81
FINCHES
Goldfinch 82
Towhee, or Chewink 84
XVII. THE GROSBEAK BRANCH 86
Rose-breasted Grosbeak 86
Black-headed Grosbeak 88
Cardinal Grosbeak, or Cardinal 88
XVIII. THE CROSSBILL BRANCH 91
American Crossbill 91
White-winged Crossbill 92
XIX. THE BLACKBIRD FAMILY 94
MARSH BLACKBIRDS
Red-winged Blackbird 94
Cowbird 98
XX. THE MEADOW STARLINGS 100
Meadowlark 100
Western Meadowlark 102
XXI. THE ORIOLE BRANCH 104
Baltimore Oriole 104
Orchard Oriole 107
Arizona Hooded Oriole 108
XXII. THE CROW-BLACKBIRD BRANCH 110
Purple Grackle 112
Bronzed Grackle 112
Brewer's Blackbird 113
XXIII. THE CROW FAMILY 117
American Crow 117
Blue Jay 121
Steller's Jay 126
American Magpie 126
XXIV. THE LARK FAMILY 131
Horned Lark 131
Prairie Horned Lark 131
XXV. THE FLYCATCHING FAMILY 135
Kingbird 136
Arkansas Kingbird 140
Wood Pewee 140
Western Wood Pewee 142
XXVI. THE HUMMING FAMILY 143
Ruby-throated Hummingbird 144
Anna's Hummingbird 149
XXVII. THE SWIFT FAMILY 150
Chimney Swift 150
XXVIII. THE GOATSUCKER FAMILY 155
Whip-poor-will 155
Chuck-will's-widow 157
Poor-will 157
Nighthawk 158
XXIX. THE WOODPECKER FAMILY 160
Northern Flicker 161
Red-shafted Flicker 162
Red-headed Woodpecker 165
Californian Woodpecker 167
XXX. THE KINGFISHER FAMILY 170
Belted Kingfisher 170
XXXI. THE CUCKOO FAMILY 174
Yellow-billed Cuckoo 174
XXXII. THE OWL FAMILY 178
Screech Owl 180
Burrowing Owl 182
XXXIII. THE BARN OWL FAMILY 185
American Barn Owl 185
XXXIV. THE HAWK AND EAGLE FAMILY 188
American Sparrow Hawk 189
American Osprey, or Fish Hawk 190
Bald Eagle 192
XXXV. THE SCAVENGER FAMILY 194
Turkey Vulture 194
APPENDIX
Characters of the North American Representatives of the
Families mentioned in this Book 197
INDEX 205
ILLUSTRATIONS
BARN SWALLOW (colored) _Frontispiece_
FIRST BOOK
BALTIMORE ORIOLE AND NEST (colored) 10
REDSTARTS (FEMALE ON NEST) (colored) 14
RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD--MALE, FEMALE, AND
NEST WITH YOUNG 18
YOUNG WOOD THRUSH 22
AMERICAN GOLDFINCH (colored) 26
BLUEBIRD (colored) 38
INDIGO-BIRD 46
AMERICAN ROBIN (colored) 60
CHEWINK 76
HOUSE WREN 80
FLICKER 86
WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH 96
LESSER YELLOWLEGS 106
BROWN THRASHER 112
BLACK AND WHITE WARBLER 120
CEDAR-BIRD (colored) 126
SCARLET TANAGER--MALE AND FEMALE 142
SECOND BOOK
HERMIT THRUSH 10
RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET 14
CHICKADEE 22
BROWN CREEPER (colored) 28
CATBIRD 36
AMERICAN DIPPER 42
SPRAGUE'S PIPIT 46
YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT (colored) 52
YELLOW-THROATED VIREO AND NEST 56
LOGGERHEAD SHRIKE 60
SCARLET TANAGER (colored) 76
ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK (colored) 86
CARDINAL 90
RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD 94
MEADOWLARK (colored) 100
BLUE JAY 122
AMERICAN MAGPIE (colored) 126
DESERT HORNED LARK 132
KINGBIRD (colored) 136
NIGHTHAWK 158
DOWNY WOODPECKER 166
BELTED KINGFISHER (colored) 170
YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO 174
SCREECH OWL 180
SPARROW HAWK 188
AMERICAN OSPREY, OR FISH HAWK (colored) 192
Eight of the sixteen colored plates are from drawings
by Louis Agassiz Fuertes, and these are signed with
his name. The other colored plates and the
twenty-eight plain half-tones are from photographs of
mounted specimens, many of which are in the collection
of the Museum of Comparative Zoölogy, in Cambridge,
Massachusetts, and are reproduced by permission.
The First Book also contains twenty cuts in the text.
FIRST BOOK
THE FIRST BOOK OF BIRDS
I
WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW
BIRDS seem to be the happiest creatures on earth, yet they have none of
what we call the comforts of life.
They have no houses to live in, no beds to sleep on, no breakfast and
dinner provided for them.
This book is to tell something about them; where they live and what they
eat, where they sleep, how they get their beautiful dress, and many
other things. But no one can tell all about their lives and habits, for
no one knows all their ways.
Men who study dead birds can tell how they are made, how their bones are
put together, and how many feathers there are in the wings and tail. Of
course it is well to know these things. But to see how birds live is
much more interesting than to look at dead ones.
It is pleasant to see how mother birds build their nests, and how they
take care of their nestlings. It is charming to see the young ones when
they begin to fly, and to know how they are taught to find their food,
and to keep out of danger, and to sing, and everything young birds need
to know.
Then when they are grown up, it is interesting to find out where they go
in winter, and why they do not stay with us all the year round.
One who goes into the field to watch and study their ways will be
surprised to find how much like people they act. And after studying
living birds, he will never want to kill them. It will seem to him
almost like murder.
II
WHEN THEY COME IN THE SPRING
IN the long, cold winter of the New England and Middle States, not many
birds are usually seen. In the cities there is always the English
sparrow, and in the country, now and then a chickadee, or a woodpecker,
or a small flock of goldfinches.
But very early in the spring, long before grass is green, even while
snow is on the ground, the birds begin to come.
Some morning a robin will appear, standing up very straight on a fence
or tree, showing his bright red breast and black cap, flirting his tail,
and looking as if he were glad to be back in his old home.
Then perhaps the same day will come the hoarse chack of a blackbird, and
two or three will fly over and alight in a big bare tree, looking, it
may be, for a good place to build a bird city.
Soon will be heard the sweet little song of the song sparrow or the
bluebird, and then we shall know that summer is coming, for these are
the first birds of spring.
Day after day, as the snow melts away and the sunshine grows hotter,
more birds will come. One day a catbird or two, another day an oriole in
black and gold, and another day a pert little wren. So it will go on,
till by the time June comes in, all our birds will be back with us, very
busy, hopping around in our bushes and trees, making their nests all
about, and singing the whole day long.
Almost the first thing every bird thinks of, when he comes to us, is
making the nest. For summer is the only time in his life that a bird has
a home.
He does not need a house to live in. He cares nothing for a roof to
cover him, because when the sun is hot, he has the broad green leaves on
the trees to shade him. And when it rains his neat feather coat is like
a waterproof that lets the drops run off, leaving him warm and dry under
it.
He does not need a dining-room, because he eats wherever he finds his
food, and he wants no kitchen, because he prefers his food raw.
He has no use for a bedroom, because he can sleep on any twig; the whole
world is his bedroom.
He cares nothing for closets and bureaus, because he has only one suit
of clothes at a time, and he washes and dries that without taking it
off.
He wants no fire to keep him warm, for when it is too cold he spreads
his wings and flies to a warmer place. A bird has really no need of a
house,--excepting when he is a baby, before his eyes are open, or his
feathers have come, or his wings have grown. While he is blind, naked,
and hungry, he must have a warm, snug cradle.
So when the bird fathers and mothers come in the spring the first thing
they do is to find good places and build nice cradles, for they are very
fond of their little ones. They spend the spring and summer in working
for them, keeping them warm, feeding them till they are grown up, and
then teaching them to fly and to take care of themselves, so that when
summer is gone they will be ready to go with the other birds to their
winter home.
THE NESTLING
III
THE BIRD'S HOME
EACH bird mother has her own way of making the nest, but there is one
thing almost all of them try to do, and that is to hide it.
They cannot put their little homes out in plain sight, as we do our
houses, because so many creatures want to rob them. Squirrels and snakes
and rats, and some big birds, and cats and many others, like to eat eggs
and young birds.
So most birds try, first of all, to find good hiding-places. Some tiny
warblers go to the tops of the tallest trees, and hide the nest among
the leaves. Orioles hang the swinging cradle at the end of a branch,
where cats and snakes and naughty boys cannot come. Song sparrows tuck
the little home in a tuft of weeds, on the ground, and bobolinks hide it
in the deep grass.
After a safe place is found, they have to get something to build of.
They hunt all about and gather small twigs, or grass stems, or fine
rootlets, and pull narrow strips of bark off the grapevines and the
birch-trees, or they pick up strings and horsehairs, and many other
things. Robins and swallows use mud.
[Illustration: BALTIMORE ORIOLE AND NEST]
As they go on building, the mother bird gets inside and turns around and
around to make it fit her form, and be smooth and comfortable for her to
sit in.
When a nest is made, it must be lined. Then some birds go to the chicken
yard, and pick up feathers, and others find horsehairs. Some of them
pull off the soft down that grows on plants, or get bits of wool from
the sheep pasture, or old leaves from the woods, and make it soft and
warm inside.
Some bird homes are only platforms, where it seems as if the eggs must
roll off, and others are deep burrows, or holes in the ground, where no
one can get in. Some are dainty baskets hung between two twigs, and
others are tiny cups of felt with lichens outside.
Each species of bird builds in its own way. There are as many different
ways to make nests as there are kinds of birds to make them.
Then after all the trouble birds have taken to build a nest, they seldom
use it a second time. If a pair have two broods in a season, they almost
always build a new one for each family.
A few birds, such as eagles, owls, and sometimes orioles, and others,
repair the home and use it again, and woodpeckers sometimes nest in the
old holes. But generally, after the young birds have flown, we may be
sure the nest will not be wanted again.
When the nest is finished, the eggs are laid in it, one by one. We all
know how pretty birds' eggs are. Some are snowy white, some are delicate
pink, and some blue. Many have tiny dots and specks on them, and a few
are covered with queer-looking streaks and lines. But pretty as they
are, I think no one would be so cruel as to take them away from the poor
little mother, if he remembered that her young ones are inside them, and
that she loves them as his own mother loves him.
I have heard people say that birds do not care for their eggs. Let me
tell you what a little chickadee mother did when a man tried to steal
the eggs out of her nest.
The nest was in a hole in an old stump, and the man could not get his
hand in, so he had to take them out one at a time with a little scoop.
At first the mother flew at him and tried to drive him away. Then
chickadees and other birds who lived near came to help her. All flew
about his face with cries, so that he had to use one hand to keep them
away from his eyes. But still he went on taking out the eggs.
At last the little mother was so wild with grief that she dashed into
the hole and sat there in the doorway, right before his face. He could
not get another egg without hurting her, and he was ashamed to do that.
This was as brave in the tiny creature as it would be for a human mother
to throw herself before a fierce, hungry tiger. Do you think she did not
care for her eggs?
IV
THE BABY BIRD
A BABY bird, as you know, always comes out of an egg. And beautiful as
these eggs are, they are most interesting when you think that each one
holds a tiny bird.
Eggs are not all alike, of course. One the size of a bean is large
enough to hold a hummingbird baby, till it is old enough to come out.
But the young ostrich needs a shell nearly as big as your head. So there
are all sizes of eggs to fit the different sizes of birds.
If you should break a fresh egg you would not see a bird, for it would
not be formed at that time. After the egg is laid in its soft bed, it
has to be kept warm for many days, and that is why the mother bird sits
on her nest so quietly. She is keeping the eggs warm, so that the little
ones will form and grow, till they are as big as the shells can hold.
While the mother is sitting her mate does all he can to help, though
each species has its own way. The blue jay brings food to his mate, so
that she need not leave the nest at all, and many others do so. But the
kingbird father simply watches the nest to protect it while the mother
goes for food. A redstart gets into the nest himself, to keep the eggs
warm while his mate is gone, and a goldfinch coaxes his mate to go off
with him for a lunch, leaving nest and eggs to take care of themselves.
[Illustration: REDSTARTS (FEMALE ON NEST)]
Another thing the father birds do is to sing. This is the time when we
hear so much bird song. The singers have little to do but to wait, and
so they please themselves, and their mates, and us too, by singing a
great deal.
When the little birds begin to be cramped, and find their cradle too
tight, they peck at the shell with a sort of tooth that grows on the end
of the beak, and is called the "egg tooth." This soon breaks the shell,
and they come out. Then the mother or father carefully picks up the
pieces of shell, carries them off, and throws them away, leaving only
the little ones in the nest. Perhaps you have found these broken shells
on the ground sometimes, and could not guess how they came there. When
the birdlings break out of their prison they do not all look the same.
Ducks and geese and chickens and quails, and other birds who live on
the ground, as well as hawks and owls, are dressed in pretty suits of
down. They have their eyes open, and the ground birds are ready to run
about at once.
A man who studied birds, once saw a young duck get its first suit of
down. He picked up the egg just as the little bird inside was trying to
get out. In a few minutes the shell fell apart, and out stepped the
duckling on his hand. It seemed to be covered with coarse black hairs,
which in a moment began to burst open, one by one, and out of each came
a soft fluff of down. So in a few minutes, while the man stood there and
held him, the little duck was all covered with his pretty dress.
But most birds hatched in nests in trees and bushes, like robins and
bluebirds, are very different. When they come out of their shells they
are naked, have their eyes shut, and look as if they were nearly all
mouth. A young hummingbird looks about as big as a honey bee, and a
robin baby not much bigger than the eggshell he came out of.
They lie flat down in the nest, seeming to be asleep most of the time.
All they want is to be warm and to be fed.
To keep them warm, the mother sits on them a great part of the time, and
for the first few days of their lives, the father often brings most of
the food. Sometimes he gives it to the mother, and she feeds the little
ones. But sometimes she gets off the nest, and flies away to rest, and
get something to eat for herself, while he feeds the nestlings.
There is one bird father who--it is thought--never comes to the nest,
either to watch the eggs or to help feed the nestlings. That is our
hummingbird, the ruby throat.
We do not know the reason for this, and it is not fair to say hard
things about him until we do. It may be that he thinks his shining ruby
would show the hiding-place of the nest, or it may be that the little
mother is not willing to have any help. I think this last is the real
reason, for she has a great deal of spirit, and always drives away
others from her feeding-places.
Young birds grow very fast, and soon feathers begin to come out all over
them. They are not very pretty at this time.
V
HOW HE IS FED
SOON after the young bird comes out of the egg, he begins to be hungry.
All day long, whenever the father or mother comes near, he opens his
great mouth as wide as he can, to have it filled, and the moment he gets
his voice he cries for food.
Then the old birds have to work hard. Three or four hungry nestlings can
keep both father and mother busy from morning till night, hunting for
caterpillars and beetles and grubs and other things to feed them. It
seems as if the little fellows never could get enough to eat. Each
swallow baby wants seven or eight hundred small flies every day, and a
baby robin needs more earthworms in a day than you can hold in your hand
at once.
At this time you will see robins hunting over the lawn, and carrying
great beakfuls of worms up to the nest. Bluebirds you will find looking
in the grass, and sparrows hopping about on the ground, all seeking
soft worms and grubs and insects for the nestlings; and they are so busy
they do not get much time for singing.
[Illustration: RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD]
At this time the orioles go all over the orchard trees looking for tiny
worms, and little warblers seek them under every leaf.
Woodpeckers find the insects hidden behind the bark of trees, by cutting
holes through it. Chickadees and nuthatches pick the tiniest insect eggs
out of the crevices, and flickers hunt everywhere for ants.
As soon as one of the old birds has his mouth full, he flies to the nest
to feed the young.
But not all birds feed in the same way. A robin just drops a big
earthworm, or a part of one, into the gaping baby mouth. Many other
birds do so also. Sometimes, when an insect is too big or too hard, they
beat it till it is soft, or break it up, before giving it to a little
one.
But hummingbird mothers and flicker mothers have a different way. When
they collect the food they swallow it, as if they wanted it for
themselves. Then they go to the nest, and jerk it up again in mouthfuls,
and feed the nestlings. This is called feeding by "regurgitation," or
"throwing up."
The way they give the food is very curious. They push their long beaks
into the nestling's throat, and poke the food far down; so the young
one does not even have the trouble of swallowing.
This looks as if it must hurt, but the nestling seems to like it, and is
always ready for more. The pigeon mother lets the young one poke his
beak down her throat, and get the food for himself.
If the food is hard, like corn, birds who feed in this way let it stay
in the crop till it is soft and better fitted for tender throats, before
they give it out.
It is comical to see a nest full of little birds when the father or
mother comes with food. All stretch up and open their big mouths as wide
as they can, and if they are old enough, they cry as if they were
starving.
Some birds bring food enough for all in the nest, every time they come.
A cedar-bird, feeding wild cherries, brought five of them every time,
one for each of the five nestlings. One cherry was held in his mouth,
but the other four were down his throat, and had to be jerked up one by
one.
Other birds bring only one mouthful at a time, and when there are five
or six in the nest, they have to make as many journeys before all are
fed.
Some persons who have studied birds think that each nestling is fed in
its turn; but they look so much alike, and are so close together, that
it is hard to tell, and I am not sure that it is so.
I will tell you a story I have heard about feeding little birds. A child
picked up a young goldfinch who had fallen out of the nest. He took him
home and put him into the canary's cage, which was hanging on the front
porch.
Soon the family heard a great noise among the birds, and went out to see
what was the matter. The baby goldfinch had hopped on to a perch in the
cage, and seemed to be afraid to come down, though the old birds had
brought food for him, and were calling him to take it.
The canary looked on a while, and then all at once he flew to the wires
and took the food from the birds outside; then he went back to the perch
beside the little one and gave it to him. This he did many times.
The next day another young goldfinch was picked up and put in the cage,
and the canary took food from the parents and fed both.
After a few days the old birds came with a third little one, and as all
were now old enough to fly, the cage door was opened, and they all flew
away.
VI
HIS FIRST SUIT
SOME birds that live on the ground--as I told you--have dresses of down
to begin with. These little fellows have no warm nest to stay in, but
run around almost as soon as they come out of the egg. Young ducks and
geese wear this baby suit for weeks, before they begin to put on their
feather coats.
Young birds that spend most of their time in the water, like grebes, and
others that live in a cold country, have the down very thick and fine,
like heavy underclothes, to keep them dry and warm.
Birds whose home is underground, like the kingfisher, or in the trunk of
a tree, like the woodpecker, have hardly any down at all. They need no
baby clothes in their warm cradles.
Robins and most other song birds have only a little down on them, and
very soon the feathers begin to grow.
When the tiny quills push themselves up, they look like little white
pins sticking out all over. Each bit of down grows out of a little
raised place on the skin that looks like a pimple, and the feather comes
out of the same.
[Illustration: YOUNG WOOD THRUSH]
As the feather grows, the bit of down clings to it till it is broken
off. Sometimes it holds on till the feather is well out. We can often
see down sticking to a young bird's feathers.
The little feathers grow very fast, and before he is ready to fly a
young bird is well covered. Birds hatched with their eyes open, and
already dressed, who have to run and fly very soon, get their wing
feathers early; but birds who live many days in the nest, like robins
and bluebirds, do not get theirs till they are nearly grown.
The tail feathers are the last to come to full length, and you will
notice that most birds just out of the nest have very dumpy tails.
A bird's first suit of feathers is called his nestling plumage. In some
families it is just like the dress of the grown-up birds, but in others
it is not at all like that. It is usually worn only a few weeks, for the
young one outgrows it, and needs a new and bigger one before winter.
When a bird is fully dressed, his body is entirely covered, and it looks
as if the feathers grew close to each other all over him. But it is not
so. The feathers grow in patterns, called "feather tracts," with
spaces of bare skin between them. These bare places do not show, because
the feathers lap over each other and cover them.
The pattern of the feather tracts is not the same in all birds. A few
birds of the Ostrich family have feathers all over the body.
There is another curious thing about the nestling plumage. You would
expect a young bird to look like his father or mother; and some of them
do. Many nestlings are dressed exactly like their mothers; and not until
they are a year old do the young males get a coat like their father's.
Some of them, indeed, do not have their grown-up suits for two or three
years.
Then, again, many young birds have dresses different from both parents.
Young robins have speckled breasts, and spots on the shoulders, which
the old birds have not.
When the father and mother are dressed alike, as the song sparrows are,
the young birds generally differ from both of them. When the father and
mother are different, like orioles or bluebirds, the young are usually
like the mother the first season. In some cases the father, mother, and
young are almost exactly alike.
Birds who live on the ground need dresses of dull colors, or they would
not be very safe. The ostrich mother, who makes her nest in plain sight
on the sand, is dressed in grayish brown. When she sits on the eggs, she
lays her long neck flat on the ground before her; then she looks like
one of the ant-hills that are common on the plains of Africa, where she
lives.
The South American ostrich, or rhea, fluffs out her feathers and looks
like a heap of dry grass. The male ostrich is dressed in showy black and
white, and he stays away all day, but takes care of the nest at night,
when his striking colors cannot be seen.
VII
HOW HE CHANGES HIS CLOTHES
IT takes a bird weeks to put on a new suit of clothes. He has nothing
but his feathers to protect him from cold and wet, and as feathers
cannot grow out in a minute, he would be left naked, and suffer, if he
lost them all at once. So he changes his dress one or two feathers at a
time.
Some day a feather will drop from each wing. If you could look, you
would see that new ones had started out in the same place, and pushed
the old ones off. When the new ones are pretty well grown another pair
will fall out.
If all dropped out at once, besides suffering with cold he would not be
able to fly, and he could not get his living, and anybody could catch
him. But losing only one from each side at a time, he always has enough
to fly with.
It is the same way with his tail feathers. He loses them in pairs, one
from each side at the same time.
[Illustration: AMERICAN GOLDFINCH]
The soft feathers that cover his body drop out one by one. Thus all the
time he is putting on a new suit he still wears part of the old one. In
this way he is never left without clothes for a moment.
Most birds put on their new suits just after the young ones are grown
up, and before they all start for the South to spend the winter,--that
is, with many of our common birds, in August. At that time they are
rather shy, and stop singing. If you did not see one now and then, you
might think they were all gone.
Sometimes the new fall suit is not at all like the old one. There is the
goldfinch, all summer in bright yellow. When he comes out in his new
suit in August, it is dull-colored, much like the one his mate wears all
the year, and in winter, when goldfinches fly around in little flocks,
they look nearly all alike.
In the spring, the male goldfinch comes out again in yellow. He has two
suits a year,--a bright yellow one in the spring, and a dull olive-green
for the winter. But his new spring dress is not a full suit. The yellow
of the body is all fresh, but the black wings are the same the year
round.
Some birds have two, different colored dresses in a year; one they get
without changing a feather. Suppose they have feathers of black, with
gray on the outside edges. All winter the gray shows and the birds seem
to have gray coats. But in spring the gray edges wear or fall off, and
the black shows, and then they look as if they had come out in new black
suits. It is as if you should take off a gray overcoat and show a black
coat under it.
There is another interesting thing about birds' dress. Some of them look
like their mates, the father and mother birds so nearly alike that it is
hard, sometimes impossible, to tell them apart. But when that is the
case, you will notice that the color is not very gay. If the father
wears a bright-colored suit, the mother does not look like him.
For this reason the little mother is not too easily seen when she is on
her nest. If the goldfinch mother were as bright as her mate, everybody
who came near would see her on the nest, and some animal might take her,
and leave the young birds to starve to death. That is probably why
mother birds dress in such dull colors.
When birds live on the ground, or very near it, in most cases both of
the pair wear the dull colors, so they will not easily be seen. Wrens
and sparrows and many others are so. But birds who make their nests in
holes, or under ground, are often as bright as their mates, because
they cannot be seen while sitting, and do not need to wear dull colors.
A curious thing about a bird's color is that the same species, or kind
of bird, is darker in one place than another. Where there is much
dampness or wet weather, the colors are darker. For instance, a
bob-white who lives in Florida, or one who lives in Oregon, will be much
darker than his cousin living in New England.
VIII
HIS FIRST FLIGHT
WHEN young birds are in the nest they are not very pretty. But when they
are nearly feathered, and sit up on the edge, exercising their wings,
and getting ready to fly, they are lovely to look at. Their feathers are
more fluffy and fresh than those of the old birds.
At that time they have not learned to be afraid of us, and if we do not
frighten them by roughness, loud talking, or quick movements, we can
often get near enough to see them well. They will sit up and look at us
without fear.
Then some day, all at once, a young bird will begin to flap his wings,
and off he will go, fluttering very hard, beating his wings, and trying
to reach the next tree.
Sometimes he will reach it, and perch on a twig, and sit quite still a
long time, tired with his first flight. Then the parents will come and
feed him, and after a while he will fly again. This time he will go
farther.
So he will go on, till in a few days he can fly very well, and follow
his parents about, and begin to learn where to get food.
Sometimes when a young bird leaves the nest he does not reach the tree
he starts for, but falls to the ground. Then there is trouble among the
birds. He is in danger of being picked up by a cat or a boy, or of
getting tangled in the grass or weeds.
The poor parents are half wild with fear. They coax him to try again,
and they follow him about in the grass, in great distress. I have many
times picked up a little bird, and set him on a branch of a tree, or
stood guard over him, driving away cats and keeping off people, till he
reached a place where he would be safe.
When young birds are out, but cannot yet fly very well, there is much
anxiety about them. Then, if any one comes around to disturb them, what
can the poor little mother do? Sometimes she makes her young ones hide.
Some of the birds who live on the ground will give a certain cry, when
in a second every little one will crouch on the ground, or creep under a
leaf, and be perfectly still. And their dark colors look so like the
earth one can hardly see them.
Then the mother tries to make one look at her by queer antics. She
pretends to be hurt, and tumbles about as if she could not fly. If it
is a man or an animal who has frightened her, he will usually think he
can easily catch her; so he will forget about the young ones, and follow
her as she goes fluttering over the ground. She will go on playing that
she is hurt, and moving away, till she leads him far from her brood.
Then she will start up and fly away, and he cannot find his way back to
where the little ones are still crouching.
Sometimes when a mother is frightened, she will snatch up her young one
between her feet, and fly away with it. Sometimes a mother will fight,
actually fly into the face of the one she fears. Often, too, other birds
come to her aid; birds of many kinds,--catbirds, robins, thrashers, and
others,--all come to help her drive away the enemy, for birds are almost
always ready to help each other.
I once found a young blue jay who had come to the ground while trying
his first flight. I thought I would pick him up and put him on a branch.
But the old birds did not know what I meant to do, and perhaps they were
afraid I would carry him off.
They flew at me with loud cries to drive me away, and I thought it best
to go, for I did not want to make them any more unhappy than they were
already.
I did not go far, because I wanted to see that no one caught the little
one. He hopped about in the grass a long time, while his parents flew
around him in great distress. Many times he tried to fly, but he could
not rise more than two feet from the ground.
At last he seemed to make up his mind to climb a tree, for when he came
to one with a rough bark he began to go up. He would fly up a few
inches, then hold on with his claws to rest. And so, half flying and
half climbing, he went on till he reached the lowest limb. On that he
perched and was quiet, glad to rest after his hard work. The old birds
were happy, too, and brought food to him, and so I left them.
IX
HIS EDUCATION
THE young bird has to be educated, or trained for his life, just as we
do, though not exactly in the same way.
He does not have to know arithmetic and history; and what he needs of
geography is only the road to the South, where he spends his winters.
I suppose the first thing he learns is to fly. You have heard, perhaps,
that the old birds drive their young out of the nest. But do not believe
any such thing, for it is not true. I have seen many little birds leave
the nest, and almost every one flew when the parents were away after
food.
The parents sometimes try to coax a nestling who is afraid to try his
wings, like an oriole I knew of. All the young orioles had flown except
this one, and he seemed to be too timid to try. He stood on the edge of
the nest, and called and cried, but did not use his wings.
The father came to see him now and then, and at last he made him fly in
this way. He caught a fine, large moth, and brought it to the nest in
his beak. The young bird was very hungry, and when he saw the food, he
opened his mouth and fluttered his wings, so eager to get it he could
hardly wait.
But the parent did not feed him. He let him see the moth, and then, with
a loud call, he flew to the next tree. When the little oriole saw the
food going away, he forgot he was afraid, and with a cry of horror he
sprang after it; and so, before he knew it, he had flown.
After the young bird can fly, he needs to be taught to get his own
living, or to find his own food, and also where to sleep. Then he must
learn what to be afraid of, and how to protect himself from his enemies.
He needs to know the different calls and cries of his family, and what
they all mean. He has to learn to fly in a flock with other birds, and
he must learn to sing. No doubt there are many more lessons for him that
we do not know about.
If you watch little birds just out of the nest, you may see them being
taught the most useful and important lesson, how to find their food.
The robin mother takes her little one to the ground, and shows him
where the worms live and how to get them. The owl mother finds a mouse
creeping about in the grass, and teaches the owlets how to pounce upon
it, by doing it herself before them.
The old swallow takes her youngsters into the air, and shows them how to
catch little flies on the wing; while mother phœbe teaches hers to sit
still and watch till a fly comes near, and then fly out and catch it.
If you watch long enough, after a while you may see the old bird, who is
training a young one, fly away. She may leave the young one alone on a
tree or the ground, and be gone a long time.
Before many minutes the little one will get hungry, and begin to call
for food. But by and by, if nobody comes to feed him, he will think to
look around for something to eat. Thus he will get his lesson in helping
himself.
Once I saw a woodpecker father bring his little one to a fence, close by
some raspberry bushes that were full of berries. He fed him two or three
berries, to teach him what they were and where they grew, and then
quietly slipped away.
When the young bird began to feel hungry he cried out; but nobody came.
Then he looked over at the raspberries, and reached out and tried to
get hold of one. After trying three or four times, and nearly pitching
off his perch, he did reach one. Then how proud he was!
The father stayed away an hour or more, and before he came back that
young woodpecker had learned to help himself very well; though the
minute his father came, he began to flutter his wings and beg to be fed,
as if he were half starved.
A lady, who fed the wild birds on her window sill for many years, and
watched their ways, says she often saw the old birds teaching their
little ones. They showed them where the food was to be found, and, she
says, regularly taught them the art of eating.
Then she saw them taught to be afraid of people, not to come too near
her. And once she saw an old bird showing a young one how to gather
twigs for nest-building. The young one looked on a while, and then tried
hard to do it himself, but could not get off a single twig.
Best of all, the same lady heard an old robin giving a music lesson. The
teacher would sing a few notes and then stop, while the pupil tried to
copy them. He had a weak, babyish sort of voice, and did not succeed
very well at first.
I have heard several birds at their music lessons.
X
SOME OF HIS LESSONS
IT is very easy to catch the birds teaching their little ones to
exercise their wings and to fly together. You will see the young birds
sitting quietly on fences or trees, when all at once the parents begin
to fly around, with strange loud calls. In a minute every youngster will
fly out and join them. Around and around they all go, hard as they can,
till their little wings are tired, and then they come down and alight
again.
Once I saw a young bird who did not go when his parents called. All the
others flew around many times, and I suppose that young one thought he
would not be noticed.
But mothers' eyes are sharp, and his mother saw him. So when she came
back, she flew right at her naughty son, and knocked him off his perch.
The next time she called, he flew with the rest. This was a crow mother.
I have seen a bluebird just out of the nest, taught to follow his
father in this way. He stood on a small tree, crying for something to
eat, when his father came in sight with a beakful of food. He did not
feed him, but flew past him, so close that he almost touched him, and
alighted on the next tree, a little beyond him.
[Illustration: BLUEBIRD]
The little bluebird saw the food, and at once flew after it, perched
beside his father, and was fed. Then the old bird left him, and in a few
minutes he felt hungry, and began to call again.
I kept close watch, and soon the father came and did the same thing
over. He flew past the young one with an insect in plain sight in his
beak, and perched on another tree still farther along in the way he
wanted the little one to go.
The hungry baby followed, and was fed as before. In this way he was led
to a big tree the other side of the yard, where the rest of the family
were, and where they all spent the night.
An old robin wanted to teach her young one to bathe. She brought him to
a dish of water kept for their use by some people who were fond of
birds. The little one stood on the edge and watched his mother go in,
and splash and scatter the water. He fluttered his wings, and was
eager to try it for himself, but seemed afraid to plunge in.
At last the mother flew away and left him standing there, and in a
moment came back with a worm in her mouth. The young robin was hungry,
as young birds always are, and when he saw the worm, he began to flutter
his wings, and cry for it.
But the mother jumped into the middle of the water dish, and stood
there, holding the worm in his sight. The youngster wanted the worm so
much that he seemed to forget his fear of the water, and hopped right in
beside her. She fed him, and then began to splash about, and he liked it
so well that he stayed and took a good bath.
Birds, as these stories show, teach their little ones by coaxing, and
not by driving them.
An Englishman, Mr. Lloyd Morgan, once had some ducks and chickens
hatched away from their mother, to see how much their parents had to
teach them.
He found that these little orphans had to be taught to pick up their
food, and to know what is good to eat. He had to show the young ducks
how to dive, and teach all of them that water is good to drink.
To see if chickens had to be taught the hen language, he put them out
by their mother when they were a few days old.
The hen was going about with her brood, all brothers and sisters of Mr.
Morgan's chicks, and she was quite ready to adopt the new ones. She
clucked and called to them with all her might, but they did not come.
They acted as if they did not hear her. When the others ran and crept
under her wings to be brooded, the strangers looked on, but did not
think of going too.
They did not understand the calls or the ways of their own mother. They
had not been taught.
A careful watcher will see the birds teach these things, and many others
as interesting. But no one will see anything unless he is quiet, and
does not frighten them.
THE BIRD GROWN UP
XI
THE BIRD'S LANGUAGE
WHEN the bird is grown up, there are many other interesting things to
know about him,--one is, whether he can talk.
It is plain to those who have studied the ways of birds, that they are
able to tell things to each other, and many writers have said plainly
that birds have a language.
If you notice birds in cages, you will find that when two or more of a
kind are in the same room, you will hear little chirps and twitters and
other notes, not at all like their song. But if one is alone in a room,
he hardly makes a sound except when singing.
Then see a robin out of doors. He is less afraid of us than most birds,
and easiest to watch. If something comes up on him suddenly, he gives a
sharp note of surprise. If a cat appears, he has another cry which every
one can understand, a word of warning to all. If everything is quiet and
his mate is near, he will greet her with some low, sweet notes.
When a partridge mother sees danger, she gives one call, which all her
brood know, and at once run and hide. When the hen speaks to her chicks,
they know well whether it means to come to her, or to run away.
Of course birds do not use our words. When it is said that the quail
says "Bob White," it is meant that his call sounds like those words. To
some the notes sound like "more wet." One may call it almost anything,
like "all right" or "too hot."
You will read in books about birds, that a certain warbler says "Witches
here," or that the white-throated sparrow says "Old Sam Peabody," and
other birds say still different things. The writer means that the words
remind one of the bird's notes, and so it is useful to know them,
because it helps you to know the bird when you hear him.
I have many times seen birds act as if they were talking to each other.
You can often see the city sparrows do so.
There is nothing in a bird's ways that we like so well as his singing.
And in all the many species of birds in the world, no two sing exactly
alike, so far as I can find out. You may always know a bird by his song.
A robin does not sing like a thrush or a catbird. And what is more, not
one of the sounds he utters is like those made by any other bird. If you
know him well, whatever noise he makes, you will know at once that it is
a robin.
But there is something still more curious about it. No robin sings
exactly like another robin. When you come to know one bird well, you can
tell his song from any other bird's. Of course, all robins sing enough
alike for one to know that it is a robin song, but if you listen
closely, you will see that it is really different from all others.
Persons who have kept birds in cages have noticed the same thing.
There is still another point to know. One bird does not always sing the
same song. I have heard a song sparrow sing five or six different songs,
standing all the time in plain sight on a fence. In the same way I have
known a meadowlark to make six changes in his few notes.
Besides their own natural songs, many birds like to copy the notes of
others. Our mockingbird is very fond of learning new things, and he does
not always choose songs either.
He will imitate the noise of filing a saw, or the pop of a cork, as
readily as the sweetest song. I have heard one sing the canary's song
better than the canary himself.
[Illustration: INDIGO-BIRD]
Other birds can do the same. A common English sparrow picked up in the
streets of a big city, hurt, and not able to fly, was put into a room
with a canary.
No doubt the wild bird found his life in a cage rather dull, after
having been used to the streets, and he soon began to amuse himself
trying to do as the canary did, to sing. In a few weeks he learned the
whole song, and he could sing it even better than his roommate, for his
voice was full and rich, and not so shrill as the canary's.
Most people think that birds sing all summer. They think so because they
have not taken notice. We who are very fond of bird song know it is not
so.
Singing begins when the birds first come in the spring. It goes on while
the nest is being built, and the mother bird is sitting. The father has
little to do at that time, and so he sings. And besides, he seems to be
so happy that he cannot help it.
But when little ones begin to call for food, he has to be very busy, and
does not have so much time for music. Some birds stop singing as soon as
they go to feeding.
But not all do so. Many go on singing till they begin to change their
clothes, or to moult, as it is called. This happens in August or
September, and when it begins, a bird seems to lose his voice.
One of the first to stop singing is the bobolink. He is rarely heard
after June is past. The veery is another whose singing days are over
early. You may hear his call in the woods, if you know it, but not a
song will you hear after the middle of July.