stump or log in a state of decay, either upon the ground, or slightly
above it. Generally, there are no indications of a nest. In occasional
instances a few rotten leaves, scratched into the hollow selected for
the deposition of the eggs, constitute the nest, these treasures being
laid without any previous care for their preservation and shelter
being taken. In Southern New Jersey the nest has been inadvertently
strayed upon in the midst of a deep and almost impenetrable morass,
where it was found placed upon a hollow stump. Within the rocky
caverns along the wide, shallow Susquehanna, as many as a dozen nests
have been counted in a few hundred yards of space, often as early as
the last week of March in favorable seasons, but generally not till
the middle of April. When the winters are not extremely rigorous, a
few individuals remain in the vicinity of their breeding-quarters
throughout the entire year. We have found the birds breeding in
Delaware County, Pa., towards the latter part of April or the beginning
of May, but in Philadelphia they rarely do, if they breed at all. In
Southern Ohio they are a common summer sojourner. Speaking of the birds
in Jamaica, Mr. Gosse says they nest in depressions in the rocks and in
the ledges thereof, in retired localities and also upon inaccessible
cliffs. On Galveston Island Audubon found the birds nesting in great
numbers, either under wide-spreading cactus branches or underneath low
bushes in the midst of tall grasses in level saline marshes.
In the vicinity of Cheraw, S. C., Dr. C. Kollock met with the black
vulture and our present species in swamps and dense forests, where they
congregate in vast numbers throughout the entire year. These places
are commonly designated Buzzards’ roosts. Audubon once visited one of
these roosts in the vicinity of Charleston, which covered more than two
acres of ground, and which was completely denuded of vegetation. On the
banks of many of the rivers of Southern Texas, Mr. Dresser found them
nesting in large numbers, the timber along their borders constituting
comfortable and secure shelter; but, contrary to what has always been
entertained, he affirms that they build large and bulky nests of
sticks, which they place at great heights in an oak or cypress, close
by the river-banks. Captain C. C. Abbott says that in the Falkland
Islands the eggs are deposited in the midst of bushes beneath high
banks, or on the summits of decayed balsam logs, during the early
part of November. In certain localities, where the birds are not very
common, paired individuals are not infrequently found.
Two eggs generally constitute a nest-full, although instances are known
where but a single egg was deposited. On the Falkland Islands they
are said to lay three occasionally. In the West Indies, especially
in the Bahamas, the complement is the same as in the United States,
and there does not seem to be any difference in the habits of the
birds in the two places. Specimens from New Jersey, Texas, Florida
and South Carolina are creamy-white in ground, and are variously
marked with shades of brown, intermingled with splashes of lavender
and purple, which are often so faint as to be perceptible only upon
close examination. Brewer mentions a variety from near Cheraw, S. C.,
that was nearly pure white, and which showed but a few small red and
slightly purplish lines and dots about the larger extremity. Recently
we have met with some from Texas answering the same description. In
dimensions these eggs vary but little, and have, on the average, a
length of 2.78 inches, and a width of 2.00, or rather less.
_Cathartes aura_, as the Turkey Buzzard is known by the scientific
naturalist, is far from being demonstrative in the expression of her
feelings. When her home is assailed, she makes no ado, but quietly
slips out, and seemingly contemplates its desecration with indifference.
Though manifesting a passive disposition in the face of human
interference, yet she is not always the gentle being she would have us
believe, as shown by the spirit of dominancy she displays over her own
household.
Unlike many of her neighbors, she does not entirely assume the
responsibilities of brood-raising, permitting her partner the happy
enjoyment of a life of luxurious ease, but, believing in the doctrine
of a proper division of labor, forces upon him his share of the work.
Whilst she thus appears unduly exacting towards him, she is equally so
to her offspring. Few mothers know better than she the right training
of their children, so as to fit them to become useful and respectable
members of society.
This is no figment of the imagination, as will presently be seen. It
was while exploring a section of Delaware County of this State for
minerals in the summer of 1894 that some interesting facts were learned
of the relation subsisting between her and the rest of her family.
Having accidentally strayed upon a young ground hog which had but
recently been killed, the writer resolved to carry it home and place
it where it could be seen or scented by the Buzzards, so that he might
have an opportunity of making a more intimate acquaintance with these
birds than he had ever before been able to make.
Accordingly the dead animal was transported to a meadow overlooked by
the house he was occupying. The resolution was well taken, for on the
fourth day after the deposit had been made several Buzzards were seen
circling high overhead, mere specks against the blue dome of the sky,
evidently scanning the earth beneath with their telescopic vision for
the presence of food, or endeavoring to scent it with their keen sense
of smell.
Nearer and nearer the flock drew earthward, till finally, a full
hour being spent in graceful manœuvring, the birds settled down upon
the green-carpeted meadow, but a few yards from the carrion that lay
festering with vermin.
Their feathers adjusted, and folded to rest their wide-spreading
pinions, the young, in obedience to orders, as it seemed, leaped on
to a huge pine log that lay near by, while the old folks surveyed,
wistfully and long, from their standpoint of observation on the ground,
the odorous carrion a few feet away, as if whetting their appetites for
the feast they were soon to enjoy.
With a few quick steps, that were meant to be graceful, the female
drew near, but the male lingered doubtingly behind. In a trice she was
busy at work, tearing with claw and with bill the daintiest morsels.
Rendered mad by the smell of the food the male, no longer seeming
backward, pressed forward to her side, but only to retreat before her
savage assaults. Again he essayed the attempt, and was beaten back as
he had been before. Convinced that further effort would be useless,
he strode sulkily to a distance, where, in moody contemplation, he
nervously awaited her ladyship’s sweet pleasure.
Being filled to the full the female now moved lazily away to a clean
patch of grass, where she immediately set to work to arranging her
toilet,--wiping her bill and her claws upon the green carpet before
her, craning her neck and stretching her pinions, yawning and gaping
and gaping and yawning,--and finally ending all by seeking the topmost
rail of a near-by fence for rest and composure.
With nothing to fear, the male now stalked complacently forward, and
was soon hard at work at what was left of the carcass. His appetite
less capacious than that of his lady, his dinner was soon over, and
off strode he too to a fresh spot of grass, where he went through the
same process of wiping his mouth and stretching and yawning, which,
being finished, he mounted the rail by the side of his mistress.
[Illustration: FEMALE TURKEY BUZZARD DINING.
Male and Young Awaiting Her Ladyship’s Pleasure.]
More interesting far than either the parents were the three black
creatures that stood upon the pine log. Fixed to the spot as though
they had grown there, with scarcely moving heads and downcast eyes they
eagerly watched the food disappearing, wondering, mayhap, as children
are prone to do, if it would all disappear before they had a chance of
testing its virtues, but maintaining their souls the while in perfect
serenity of repose. But their time had at length arrived, and down from
the log they cast themselves _instanter_, three lusty fellows as large
as the parents, but one of them, from his limping gait, proving to be
lame. Great consideration was shown the disabled one by the others,
who permitted him to feed first, while they stood aside until he had
satisfied his hunger, when, without the least bit of ceremony, or the
least indication of ill-nature or selfishness, they too set to work,
finishing in quick order whatever edible was left of the dead animal.
Their actions after feeding were exactly the counterpart of those of
the parents. Having finished their toilet, the three sought the rail
by the side of the father, where, like their illustrious heads, they
were soon occupied with the most self-satisfying thoughts, utterly
oblivious, as it seemed, of time and surroundings.
More than an hour was thus spent in drowsy meditation, when, as by
common consent, they all, one after the other, leaped to the ground,
where they busied themselves preening their feathers and preparing
for departure. The time being ripe, the female set the example. With
a run of a half-dozen yards to gain a good start, she was soon on the
wing, and in fifteen minutes or more was lost in the ether. The male
followed suit, and when he had vanished from sight, the young, one
after another, mounted the atmosphere, and gradually circling their way
through its limitless depths, were also soon lost to the earth-chained
beholder.
Concluding this brief chapter of bird-history, we have a few brief
comments to make. To the uninitiated in science matters, the
statements just made must seem well nigh incredible. But there were
other witnesses of the facts, just and reliable observers, too,
whose testimony could be appealed to, to settle all doubts of their
authenticity. From all that has been said, it cannot but be evident
that the female was the acknowledged head of the family, a sort of
feathered autocrat, whose will was the law by which the family was
governed. Even the male, who did not always respect her authority,
especially where her interests conflicted with his own, was made to
see that might makes right when confronted with her stronger and
more powerful nature. But it was the patience and orderly behavior
that characterized the nearly-grown young, and their sweetness and
gentleness of disposition under the most trying circumstances as well,
that impressed us as extremely wonderful, and led to the opinion that
man-born offspring might here learn a lesson of filial obedience and
respect that would greatly redound to the honor and glory of the race.
When captured, these birds offer no active resistance, but very
effectually warn off their aggressor by vomiting up the half-putrid
contents of their crop. They will often simulate death at such times.
On one occasion an individual having been shot by Dr. Coues was picked
up for dead. While being carried to the Doctor’s tent, it was perfectly
limp. On reaching his quarters, he carelessly threw it upon the ground,
and went to work at something else. After a little, upon looking
around, he beheld to his great surprise that the bird had changed
position, and was furtively glancing around. On going up to it, its
eyes instantly closed, its body became relaxed, and it lay perfectly
motionless, and apparently lifeless. After compressing its chest for
several minutes until he fancied life extinct, he dropped the bird and
repaired to supper. Upon his return the bird was gone, it evidently
having scrambled into the bushes as soon as he had turned his back upon
it.
The young, when first hatched, are covered with a whitish down, and are
fed upon half-digested matter which is disgorged by their parents. When
taken from the nest and kept in captivity until fully grown they become
exceedingly tame, and will feed on fresh meat, earthworms, crickets,
grasshoppers, and other large insects, which they apparently relish,
and oftentimes will also eat bits of bread, cake and particles of
apples or pears which are thrown before them. The benefits which these
scavengers render are too well known to need any comment. In the mature
state the plumage of the Buzzard is brownish-black, and more or less
glossy, the quills being paler on the under surface. The skin of the
head and neck is red and wrinkled, and with scattering bristle-like
feathers, the bill whitish, legs and feet pinkish, iris grayish-brown,
and nostrils large and oval. Their length is about thirty inches,
extent of wing seventy-two inches, wing being about twenty-five, and
tail twelve.
RARE AND CURIOUS NESTS.
From time immemorial it has been the current popular belief that
birds of the same species never varied their style of architecture,
but constructed the same form of nest, and out of the same materials,
as their remotest progenitors did, instinct being the principle by
which they were guided. This opinion, though long since exploded by
scientific research, is still, I am sorry to say, entertained by
persons who should know better. An examination of nests from different
and widely-separated localities affords evidence of the most convincing
character of its erroneousness. Most marked differences will always be
found to exist in composing materials, as these are sure to vary with
environment, and in a wider degree in the nests of some than in those
of other species; even configuration, which is less prone to change, is
often influenced by circumstances of position and latitude.
Among the Thrushes, the nest of the Robin is the most addicted to
variation, and this is not wholly restricted to the constituents of
its usually mud-plastered domicile, but is quite frequently observed
to occur in the arrangement of materials, and in contour and position
as well. Where low marshy woods abound on the outskirts of towns and
villages, as is the case in Southern New Jersey, nests of this species
have been taken that contrasted in a most wonderful manner with those
one is accustomed to see in more northern localities. The great masses
of grayish-green fibrous lichen, which depend from shrub and tree in
sylvan marshes, are most freely used, and from its very nature to mat
when pressed together all necessity for mud is precluded.
[Illustration: NEST OF THE ROBIN.
Built Upon a Railroad Cutting.]
But the most curious nest I have ever met with was built upon a
railroad cutting, where the ground had a slope of more than forty-five
degrees. Such a position for a dwelling of the kind the Robin is known
to build, to one not conversant with the facts, must appear incredible.
But that it was accomplished, the nest itself was the monument of the
builders’ thoughtful skill and labor. A semicircular wall of mud,
eight inches in diameter and five inches in height, constituted the
groundwork, and within the cavity thus formed was reared a coarse,
substantial, bulky fabric, that was entirely composed of the stems of
grasses, leaves and roots, loaded down and held in place by pellets of
mud.
[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. Dugmore.
NEST FROM THE TOP.
SECTION OF TWO-STORIED NEST.
RED-EYED VIREO’S TWO-STORIED NEST WITH COW-BIRD’S EGG BENEATH]
A more remarkable position, and one that seemed as difficult to manage,
I shall now relate. Few birds care so little for position as the common
House Wren. Almost any place answers its purpose. Near the little town
of Thornbury, in the State of Pennsylvania, a pair of these birds, in
the summer of 1882, took possession of a derrick, and, as a site for a
home, selected the space over a sheave in one of the stationary blocks,
where, in due time, was deposited their rude, yet comfortable, nest of
sticks and feathers. A similar structure occupied the spot the previous
year, and a brood of eight birds was raised. It was not the elements
of composition of these nests that excited interest and surprise, for
they are not materially different from the usual form, but the strange,
anomalous situation which they occupied. So dexterously were the
materials arranged within the space that the revolution of the wheel
was not in the least interfered with. The nest was approached on the
side facing the rope that moved the pulley. The opposite side could
have been used for this purpose, and doubtless with less danger to life
or limb, but preference seemed to be shown for the other. Why this was
so was for some time a mystery. But when the birds were seen to alight
upon the rope at the top of the derrick and ride down to the nest, the
explanation at once became apparent.
Never did linnet enjoy the rocking twig, or bobolink the swaying
cat-tail, with half the zest than did these eccentric creatures their
ride down the rope. A hundred times a day, when necessity arose, they
treated themselves to the pleasure, the rope all the while moving at
the rate of thirty feet in a second. Six of the seven days, from early
morn till night, they availed themselves of this strange conveyance,
and never a danger occurred to mar their delight. In due time a family
of happy, rollicking children was raised, and the nest on the derrick
deserted.
More beautiful are the nests which the Red-winged Blackbirds build.
These are the birds that affect our swamps and marshes, and make the
air ring with their loud, clear, resonant notes. Before me is a nest
that surpasses in beauty the average structure. It is a bulky affair
for the species, but so symmetrical in contour, and so quaintly,
deftly woven, that the eye never tires in looking at it, nor the mind
in contemplating its wonderful mechanism. Broad ribbons of grasses are
its composing materials, and eight of them are so woven into the nest
as to securely fasten it to the tall typhas in the summit of which it
was placed.
[Illustration: RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD’S NEST.
Located in a Field of Timothy.]
But a more clever nest of these birds, and one that is as unique in
shape as it is in texture and composition, was found in the summer
of 1879 in the vicinity of Philadelphia. It was built in a field of
timothy, many of the stalks of which being wrought into the fabric. Its
shape is that of an inverted cone, and so beautifully, symmetrically
and compactly put together is it, that one could hardly credit the
builders with the possession of the skill necessary to the production
of so perfect a domicile. Externally the nest is formed of grasses
and rushes, neatly and intricately interwoven, with here and there a
head of the dry pappus of some species of hawkweed. Sedges and fine
grasses make for it a cosy and comfortable lining. This nest shows
quite conspicuously in the drawing, but in its natural position, in the
centre of a large field, the authors had spared no pains to have its
concealment as perfect as possible.
Typical nests of these Blackbirds are somewhat irregular in outline,
and rather coarsely and rudely built of stubble and broad grasses,
variously intermingled, and lined with soft meadow grass. Usually
they are placed in clusters of weeds or in the tops of small bushes
alongside of streams of water. High positions are seldom chosen for
nesting purposes, as they offer poor facilities for food-collecting,
the aquatic larvæ, may-flies, dragon-flies and mosquitos, which
constitute a prominent part of the diet of these birds, being only
found in marshy situations. Small bushes along the margins of streams,
from the double advantage which they possess, are almost exclusively
adopted in certain localities. Being convenient to appropriate
food-stuffs, they are, at the same time, out of the reach of snakes,
especially water-snakes, which have a decided fondness for young birds.
Of the sub-family of Orioles, to which the Red-wing belongs, no member,
unless it be the namesake of Maryland’s distinguished proprietor,
builds a more magnificent nest than the one that inhabits the orchard.
In the books it is known by the no means euphonious title of _Icterus
spurius_. Its nest is shaped like a pouch, and generally pensile. Soft,
flexible meadow grasses, neatly and compactly woven together, make up
the outer fabric, while within is a lining of vegetal or animal wool,
or one of fine grasses intermingled with horse-hair. But the handsomest
ever seen was one that was found in the vicinity of Nazareth, Pa., by
Richard Christ, in the summer of 1883. It is of the usual size, five
inches in height, three in external diameter, but differing from the
normal form only in materials of composition. The proverbial meadow
grasses are absent, and in lieu thereof are the headed stems of such as
grow by the roadside, notably conspicuous for their golden brightness
in a state of desiccation.
[Illustration: DOUBLE NEST OF ORCHARD ORIOLE.
Female Sitting, Male Standing Guard.]
More noteworthy, however, than the Nazareth nest, is one that was
removed from a silver maple-tree. It is a double structure, composed
of long, flexible grasses, and is firmly bound by the same to several
small, slender branches. The larger nest, inversely sub-conical, is
joined to the smaller, somewhat similarly shaped, but less compact in
structure, by ribbons of the same kind of grass that composes the nest.
A circular opening, one inch in diameter, is a noticeable feature of
the smaller. That the additional structure served some useful purpose
there can be no doubt. I am inclined to believe that it was built for
the accommodation of either parent while the other was sitting. The
aperture was a convenient outlook for the non-sitting bird, who, from
this position, could with little difficulty, like a sentinel from an
outpost, detect the approach of an enemy.
But nothing can exceed in beauty and skill the nest of a female
Baltimore Oriole in the writer’s possession. It was built under
peculiar circumstances, the builder being a prisoner, having been
taken from home when quite a fledgling. A male companion was brought
away at the same time. These birds, the property of Dr. Detwiler, of
Easton, Pa., in 1883, were a source of considerable pleasure to that
elderly gentleman in his leisure moments. Under his careful, kindly
management, they became quite tame, the female manifesting greater
familiarity than the male. That either would become so accustomed to
confinement as to evince a desire to build never entered the mind of
the Doctor. They had, when he was alone, the freedom of his studio. One
lovely June morning, the outside world brimming over with life and joy
and sunshine, the door of their cage was thrown open, and the Doctor
settled himself into a soft easy-chair to read. Hardly had he scanned a
dozen lines, when something pulling at his hair caused him to drop his
paper and look around. He was not slow to detect the offender in the
person of his female feathered friend who was seen flying towards the
most distant corner of the room with something, resembling hair, in her
bill. The reading was resumed, and again the culprit stole cautiously
to where he was sitting, and, seizing another hair, was off in a
twinkling.
[Illustration: FEMALE BALTIMORE ORIOLE.
Nest the Exclusive Work of Her Bill.]
Permitting for a while these liberties, and noticing that bits of
strings were, when placed in positions to be seen, quite as much the
objects of interest as the hairs of his head, the Doctor was not
slow in divining the motive which led to this strange and unexpected
behavior. Convinced by actions, as significant as words themselves
could be, that his little friend was desirous to build a home, he
began to cast about for a corner where she could be free to carry out
her intentions without fear or interference. The attic furnished the
place, and after fitting it up with a large tree-branch for a perch,
and plenty of new white strings for building purposes, he bore his
favorite and her partner to their new quarters. Soon the female became
at home and entered into her voluntarily-imposed labor with alacrity,
and at the end of a week had constructed a domicile which her untamed
prototypes of field and roadside would strive in vain to excel. But
the male would have nothing at all to do with the matter, but remained
the same cold, indifferent being as I found him to be upon my first
introduction.