investigate the wonders about them: one flew to the fringe of a
window-shade, and hung head down while trying with sharp beak to pry
open the cords; the other devoted itself to unraveling the mysteries of
books and boxes, very soon learning to open both with the same prying
instrument. The slats of the blinds were appropriated as ladders to run
up and down, and every few moments one disappeared in some hole, never
hesitating to creep through the smallest opening. Madam went up out of
sight among the springs of a stuffed chair, while her mate set himself
the task of pulling out the stitches of embroidery on a toilet cushion,
with perfect success. Having exhausted this amusement, he looked about
for new worlds to conquer, and soon found sundry holes in the
wall-paper, where I suppose nails had been driven, though they were so
hidden by the confused pattern that I could not see them. Before the
walls he hovered slowly, and the discovery of an opening was the signal
for work. One claw inserted under the broken edge of the paper was perch
enough, and the first intimation of the mischief was the falling of bits
of plaster and fluttering fragments of paper. Of thus amusing himself he
could never be cured, and many unsightly places remained to tell the
tale. While the head of the family disfigured the wall, his little
spouse found occupation in working at a paper covering the cage of a
gentle bird who specially disliked intrusive neighbors. First she pulled
out the pin that held it in place, took it under a toe, and tried to
wrench the head off; failing in this, she passed it through her beak
back and forth as she did a worm, evidently to reduce it to a softer
condition. Finding the pin intractable, she dropped it, and turned her
attention to the paper; tearing off bits, peeping under it, and
constantly worrying the peace-loving owner, until a roof of enameled
cloth, securely fastened by sewing, was provided for him.
The only one in the room whom the unlovely bird found it impossible to
annoy was the oriole he saw in the looking-glass, and he never gave up
trying to reduce even him to a proper state of meekness. Whenever he
caught sight of his reflection he was furious: he strode across the
lower support, bowing and posturing; then flew up against the glass,
touching it with breast and claws, and beating his wings against it.
Failing, of course, to seize the enemy, he peered eagerly behind the
mirror, then returned with fresh rage to the charge in front. After a
while I placed the glass at such an angle that he could not see himself
from below. Instantly he alighted on a basket that hung conveniently
near, ran to the end where he could stretch around and see his face,
then to the other end from which he could look behind, uttering at the
same time a loud cry. This also he kept up till I removed the basket. A
day or two later, the discovery of a hand-glass standing on a table gave
opportunity for a repetition of the performance. He attitudinized,
drooped his wings, beat against it, hopped quite over it, touched the
glass many times with his beak, and at last circled round and round,
going into a rage whenever he reached the front, and springing suddenly
around, as if to seize the elusive enemy behind. It was a strange
exhibition of passion, very droll if it had not been painful to see.
After that the glasses were covered.
[Illustration: THE ENEMY IN THE GLASS--THE ORCHARD ORIOLE]
[Sidenote: _GYMNASTICS ON THE ROOF._]
Repose of manner was unknown to the orchard oriole; he could never wait
a moment for anything. If he wanted to bathe, he plumped into the
dish, whether it were empty or not; thus he often surprised a more
dignified bird by bouncing in beside him and splashing as though no one
else were in sight. In fact, the bath was a constant subject of dispute;
he was very fond of it, and the sound of dashing water was always
irresistibly tempting to him. If he were shut into his cage with no
other amusement, he indulged in gymnastics on the roof, running about,
head down, on the wires, as readily as a fly on the ceiling, and often
hanging by one claw, swinging back and forth, as if to enjoy the
upside-down view of the world. If he stood still two minutes on a perch
he was usually asleep; and both of these birds indulged in daytime naps,
in which they buried their heads in their feathers, exactly as they did
at night.
The lord and master of this household was extremely fastidious in his
fare. Mockingbird food he despised, bread and milk he left to his cage
mate, apples were too hard to please him; nothing appealed to his taste
except the tenderest of Bartlett pears, and of these he condescended to
eat one a day. After a while, in his trampish fashion of prowling about
in other birds' houses, he discovered that mockingbird food was not so
bad; and although he scorned it at home, he soon spent half his time in
going from cage to cage, pulling over the food-supply, and selecting
dainty bits for his own delectation. Naturally, he had many encounters
with insulted proprietors, and some narrow escapes from a pecking; but
he accepted these little episodes in the spirit of the tramp, regularly
poached upon his neighbors, and nothing would keep him out of others'
cages, or convince him that his own dish was as well supplied as any.
The truth is, he seemed to be devoured by a fear that some one was
better provisioned than he; and this feeling went so far that in the
cage of a seed-eater he ate seeds, though since he did not take off the
shells he was obliged to throw them up in a ball somewhat later. Like
many other birds, the orioles were fond of huckleberries, which they ate
daintily, driving their sharp beaks into a berry, and holding it under
one toe while they neatly extracted the pulp, thrusting far out their
long white tongues in the operation.
[Sidenote: _HIS DEAREST DELIGHT._]
Meal-worms--the choice morsels of the bird-room--came near driving the
oriole wild. It was natural for him to take one under his toe, and pull
off small bits till all was eaten, but his greed made this way very
distasteful. How could he be satisfied with a slow manner, while
thrushes and bluebirds took one at a gulp, and were ready for more? He
could not; he put himself in training, and in a few days could bolt a
worm as quickly as anybody. Now it became the object of his life to
secure them all for himself. He was so quick in movement that he had no
difficulty in swooping down upon every one that was put out, before more
leisurely birds had stirred a feather. When he was absolutely incapable
of swallowing another, he continued to seize them, kill them by a bite,
and drop them on the floor. Nobody cared for dead worms, and thus the
selfish fellow managed, as long as he was allowed, to deprive every bird
in the room of his share. The remedy was simple: his door was closed
till the other birds had eaten, and he pranced back and forth before it,
actually squealing with rage, while they disposed of the dainties in
their own natural way.
The dearest delight of this bird, however, was one which no other in the
room shared,--catching flies. Observing that he tried to get one on the
outside of the window-frame, I thought I would indulge him; so the next
morning, before the cages were opened, I raised the windows. As I
anticipated, two or three flies came in. The oriole saw them in an
instant, and was frantic to get out. When his door was unclosed he at
once gave chase, and never rested till every fly was caught and eaten.
He hunted them up and down the windows with great eagerness, but never
followed them back into the room, though of course, as they could not
keep away from the light themselves, they all fell victims sooner or
later. After that several flies were allowed to come in every morning,
and no sportsman, of whatever size, was ever keener after his prey,
whether fish, fox, or tiger from the jungle.
The little dame liked flies too, and if one came near her did not
hesitate to appropriate it, although it brought her mate upon her "like
a wolf on the fold." The two had once a funny time with a very large fly
which fell into the hands--or beak--of madam. The victim did not submit
with meekness; in fact, he protested in a loud voice. This at once
attracted the attention of the master, who flung himself furiously at
his usually amiable spouse, to snatch it from her. She did not give it
up, but flew away, he following closely, and the fly buzzing madly all
the while. Round and round the room they went for some time, till he was
tired and gave up, when she alighted and tried to dispose of her prize,
which was, after all, rather embarrassing to her. The insect was large,
and she seemed afraid to put it under one toe, as usual, lest she should
be attacked and have to fly suddenly, and so lose it. When she did make
the attempt at last, her movements or his strength caused a slip
somewhere, and away he went, buzzing louder than ever in triumph. This
sound again roused the hunter's instinct, and both orioles flew wildly
after that noisy creature, which took one turn around the room, then
alighted on the top of the lower sash of a window, and passed quickly
down the hole made for the window-cord. The orioles in chase of this
slippery fellow, seeing him outside, came bang against the glass, and
then dropped to a perch, looking rather foolish.
[Sidenote: _THE FLY ESCAPED._]
Very soon after these birds were at home in the room, the female began
to sing a low and sweet song of considerable variety. The male confined
his utterances to scolding and "huffing," and he tried to silence her
with a peck, or by making ostentatious preparations for a nap, in which
curious way many birds show contempt. But she did not often sing at
home. She preferred a perch the other side of the room, where she sat
down, her breast feathers covering her toes, threw her head up, and
turned it from side to side (perhaps looking for the enemy always ready
to pounce upon her), as she poured out the pleasing melody. Not a note
of song came out of his throat till weeks afterwards, when her presence
no longer disturbed him, and spring came to stir even his hard heart.
Matters culminated, in this ill-assorted union, with a tragedy. He
began a bully and a scold; and so far from being mollified by her
gentleness, his bad temper increased by indulgence, until he absolutely
prevented her from eating, bathing, or entering the cage when he was
about. At this point providence--in the shape of the
mistress--interfered, bought a new cage as big as the old one, and, in
the summary way in which we of the human family dispose of the lives and
happiness of those we call the lower animals, declared a divorce. This
was agreeable to the female, at least. She entered her solitary cage
with joy, and ate to her satisfaction, but not so well pleased was the
tyrant; he wanted an object on which to vent his ill-humor, and it
grieved his selfish soul to see her happy, out of his reach, with table
spread as bountifully as his own. He usurped the new cage; she retired
contentedly to the old. Still he was not suited, for the old one was
nearer the window; so he tried to occupy both, and drive her away
altogether. So outrageous did he become that finally he had to be shut
into one cage before she could enter the other. It was curious, on these
occasions, to see the care with which she examined the door of his cage,
to be sure that he really could not get out, and the satisfied air with
which she finally went home; even then she ate at the point of the
bayonet, as it were, he raging from side to side of his cage, as near
to her as he could get, and scolding furiously. This could not go on
forever, and the most watchful care was not able always to protect her
without making prisoner of one. It was the middle of winter, and she
could not be set free; but if I had suspected how far his tyranny would
go, I should have removed one of them to another room. To my deep
sorrow, I found her dead one morning, and her body so thin I was sure
she had been worried to death.
[Sidenote: _A BAD TEMPER._]
Naturally, I did not love the brutal bird who had teased another out of
her life, but I certainly looked for an improvement in his temper now
that he had no one to vex his sight. I looked in vain. He was more
savage, more of a tramp and poacher, more of a scold, than ever. He even
went so far as to huff at the sparrows outside the window. He never
entered into the feelings of his neighbors in any way; when every other
bird in the room was excited, alarmed, or disturbed, he alone remained
perfectly unconcerned, exactly as if he did not see them.
During the latter part of that winter I was interested to see a curious
provision of nature for an emergency. The oriole had a serious affection
of one hind-toe, which swelled, turned white, and was evidently so
painful to use that he alighted on the other foot, holding this one up.
After a few days I noticed him using his foot again; there was a hind
toe all well, and the disabled one above the new one, quite out of
harm's way. It looked as if it were going to fall off, and I did not
know but the universal Mother had provided a new toe; but on close
examination I found that one of the three front toes had turned back to
take the place of the useless member. Thus relieved, it became well, the
front toe returned to its proper place, and the bird was all right
again.
Now spring came on, and the oriole began to sing, strange, half-choking
sounds at first, interspersed with his harshest notes, as if he were
forced to sing by the season, but was resolved that no one should enjoy
it as music, and so spoiled it by these interpolations. I found
afterwards, however, on studying his wild relatives, that this is their
customary way of singing. Now, too, queer little spots began to appear
in his plumage, dots of bright reddish chestnut, first on one side of
the breast, then about the tail coverts, till after a month he looked
like patchwork of the "crazy" sort. All this time his song was gaining
in strength and volume, till by the first of May he could outsing any
bird in the room.
[Sidenote: _UTTERLY UNLOVELY._]
To outdo in some way was his delight, and he regularly discomfited the
singers and silenced the gentle ripple of thrush music in the house by
his loud carol. Later, the weather became settled, the well and perfect
birds were given their liberty, and he had the bird-room to himself, the
only utterly unlovely bird I ever knew.
The relations of a pair of Baltimore orioles at the same time were not
much more harmonious; but the little dame being more spirited than her
neighbor, things arranged themselves differently.
I introduced the pair by the rather summary process of putting both into
one large cage. She had suffered at the hands of mankind, and her
plumage was in a terribly draggled state; and clothes have as much to do
with self-respect in the feathered world as in our own. Her condition of
general wreck was so complete as to leave her without a tail,--the last
stage of respectability. She was depressed in spirits, and at first did
not gainsay the dictation of the bird already in possession. He drove
her away from the food-dishes, denied her a place on his perch, and in
fact set up for lord and master, and she submitted for a time.
It was amusing to see these birds trying, on the first evening, to
settle the question of sleeping-quarters. As usual, the mind of the male
was made up, and he planted himself in the darkest corner of the upper
perch away from the window, shook himself out, and considered the matter
decided. The meek little new-comer did not aspire to his corner, but she
ardently desired a place on that farther perch, and after he became
quiet she resolved to try for it. Too modest to approach it in the
natural way, from the lower perches, she scrambled up the wires of the
cage, and shyly came on from the back. The autocrat was not asleep, and
the instant her foot touched it he bounced across the cage to the other
upper perch. He evidently expected that she would be put to shame in her
surreptitious attempt to share his perch, and would at once retire to
her proper sphere; but he was mistaken. So far from being embarrassed by
his displeasure, she calmly accepted the relinquished position, and
prepared for sleep. This was far from satisfactory to his majesty, and
he jumped back as suddenly as he had gone; whereupon madam dropped to
the floor. But, with true oriole persistence, in a moment she tried it
again, going as before up the wires. Again the annoyed oriole deserted
his post, and, disappointed in the effect, returned; once more, also,
rather disconcerted, she descended to the floor. Not to stay, however.
She was as set in her way as he was, and to sleep in that corner was her
determination. This curious seesaw performance was reenacted far into
the twilight with amusing regularity, but how they finally settled it I
could not stay to see.
[Sidenote: _SHE REBELLED._]
The unfortunate condition of the female kept her in subjection a few
days, and then she rose superior to clothes, and quietly rebelled. The
possession of the bath was the first disputed point. There she took her
stand, bowed and postured on the edge, while he splashed unconcernedly
in the tub; and the next time she went so far as to remain in the water
and keep on bathing, while he assumed the offensive on the edge. After
trying in vain to awe or terrify her, he actually plumped in beside her,
and they spattered and fluttered side by side, as if they were
inseparable friends. The oriole, however, had learned a lesson. He
recognized a kindred spirit, and henceforth they lived peaceably
together, in a sort of armed neutrality. No quarreling disgraced their
house; each went on in his own way, and the other did not interfere.
One had no right to expect sociability between a pair living in mere
tolerance of each other, and yet I was disappointed that they did not
talk together. I wanted to hear them, but I listened in vain for weeks.
In sight or out of sight, it made no difference; they were the same
taciturn couple, each occupied in its own way, and never exchanging a
note. But at last I caught them. At night, during the winter, each cage
was closely wrapped in a thick, warm cover, and before this was taken
off in the morning I began to hear low murmurs from the orioles. One
spoke in a complaining tone, as if it said, "Why do you treat me thus?"
and the other uttered a regular oriole "chur-r-r." In time the sounds
grew louder, and I noticed in the querulous tone great variety of pitch,
inflection, and duration of note, accompanied often by a hopping back
and forth, as if the listener were inattentive. Wishing to see as well
as hear this little domestic drama, I took care the next night to
arrange the covering in such a way that I could peep in without
disturbing it. Then I saw the lordly Baltimore on the middle perch,
leaning over and looking at his mate on the floor. He addressed her in a
tone so low that it was scarcely audible at the distance of one foot,
and she replied in the fretful voice I have spoken of. Then he began
hopping from perch to perch, occasionally pausing to take his part in
the conversation, which was kept up till they saw me.
[Sidenote: _A NEW SONG._]
Not all the time of the beautiful orioles was passed in contentions;
once having placed themselves on what they considered their proper
footing in the family, they had leisure for other things. No more
entertaining birds ever lived in the room; full of intelligent curiosity
as they were, and industriously studying out the idiosyncrasies of
human surroundings in ways peculiarly their own, they pried into and
under everything,--opened the match-safe and threw out the contents,
tore the paper off the wall in great patches, pecked the backs of books,
and probed every hole and crack with their sharp beaks. They ate very
daintily, and were exceedingly fond of dried currants. For this little
treat the male soon learned to tease, alighting on the desk, looking
wistfully at the little china box whence he knew they came, wiping his
bill, and, in language plain enough to a bird-student, asking for some.
He even went so far, when I did not at once take the hint, as to address
me in low, coaxing talk of very sweet and varied tones. Still I was
deaf, and he came within two feet of me, uttering the half-singing talk,
and later burst into song as his supreme effort at pleasing or
propitiating the dispenser of dainties. I need not say that he had his
fill after that.
On the 24th of April spring emotions began to work in the oriole family.
The first symptom was a song, so low it was scarcely heard, though the
agitation of the singer, with head thrown up and tail quivering, was
plainly enough seen. As it grew in volume from day to day, it proved to
be totally different from the beautiful oriole strain of four or six
notes, so familiar during the nesting season. It was a long-continued
melody, of considerable variety, with an occasional interpolation of the
common scolding "chur-r-r." After about a month of this lovely chant,
the usual June carol was added, and from this time he sang the two. Both
birds also treated us to the several calls we are accustomed to hear in
the orchard in that perfect month.
Shortly following the beginning of the second and more familiar song, a
change appeared in the relations of the pair. The male assumed the
aggressive, and became rather violent in his attentions. He drove his
mate around the room, and when he cornered her they indulged in what
must be called a "clawing match," upon which he flew away with a loud
song, as though he had won a victory. When this performance had gone on
a few days, she began to show a disinclination to go home, took
possession of another cage whose owner was amiable, and finally turned
upon her rough wooer, as I suppose he must be named; though if I had not
seen a similar style of courtship among the orchard orioles I should
hesitate to give it that name. One morning she rose in her might to put
an end to all this persecution, and I saw her on the war-path, pursuing
him with open beak; but after fleeing a moment, he turned and flung
himself upon her so savagely that both flew violently against the
window, which they had not touched for months, being perfectly aware of
the obstacle there. However, he changed his manners, and I heard much
low, sweet talk in the cage, such as he had used to coax me for
currants. She listened, but said nothing. I neglected to say that
meanwhile she had replaced her scraggy feathers and grown a fine tail.
[Sidenote: _FREE AT LAST._]
Another time I saw the two orioles on top of a cage, six or eight inches
apart. First she stretched up and faced him, uttering a peculiar cry, a
single note of rich but mournful tone, and then she bowed again and
again, constantly repeating the call. He posed, turned this way and
that, evidently aching to fly at her. At last she flew, and he followed
to another cage, where the performance was repeated. Then came a mad
chase around the room, which she ended by slipping behind a large cage.
For some days these scenes were frequent, and I began to feel myself a
jailer; so one morning they were carried to the country, where sparrows
would not mob them, and set at liberty to pursue their wooing, if such
it were, in freedom.
INDEX.
Arkansas goldfinch, 185.
Black-throated green warbler, 26, 28, 29.
Bluebird, 173.
Blue jay, 216.
Bobolink, 30.
Brazilian cardinal, 214.
Catbird, 153, 158.
Cats, 197.
Chebec, 6, 621.
Chewink, 159, 180-184.
Chipmunk, 13.
Chipping sparrow, 86.
Clarin, 205-220, 226.
Cowbird, 22.
Crow, 6, 156, 166.
Cuckoo, 62, 64, 65.
Eave swallow, 32, 175.
English sparrow, 200.
Fox barking, 16.
Golden-winged woodpecker, 18, 49, 164.
Hermit thrush, 6, 8, 9, 10, 21, 22, 202.
House wren, 30, 49, 189.
Junco, 201.
Least flycatcher, 61, 62.
Maryland yellow-throat, 142-147.
Meadow lark, 31, 34.
Meadow lark, western, 191.
Mountain whistler, 220-226.
Night hawk, 200.
Olive-aided flycatcher, 7, 11, 14-18.
Oriole, Baltimore, 50, 150-153, 229-245.
Oriole, orchard, 227-239.
Oven-bird, 7.
Ph[oe]be, 33, 34, 174.
Red-eyed vireo, 6, 155.
Red-headed woodpecker, 35.
Red-shafted woodpecker, 189.
Red-winged blackbird, 166-173.
Robin, 29, 30.
Rose-breasted grosbeak, 18, 19.
Ruby-throated hummingbird, 103-140, 225.
Sandpiper, 6, 164.
Shrike, 29, 35-60, 66-71.
Solitaire, 205-220, 226.
Song sparrow, 30.
Summer yellow-bird, 179.
Thrasher, 147-149, 201.
Towhee bunting, 159, 180-184.