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Nests and Eggs of Birds of the United States

by Thomas G. Gentry · English · Gutenberg #45063 · 642,096 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Nests and Eggs of Birds of the United States

Author: Thomas G. Gentry


        
Release date: March 7, 2014 [eBook #45063]
                Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NESTS AND EGGS OF BIRDS OF THE UNITED STATES ***

NESTS AND EGGS OF BIRDS OF THE UNITED STATES.

By Thomas G. Gentry

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[Illustration: portrait]




Preface.

|FOR many years we have been of opinion that a work on NESTS and EGGS,
in life-like colors, would be a valuable acquisition to ornithological
science, and meet a want that has long been felt to exist. After vainly
hoping that some more competent person than the writer would see the
necessity therefor, and take a step in the right direction, we were
beginning to despair of any such enterprise being undertaken, when, to
our surprise, two publications, partially of this character, loomed up
in the literary horizon, one hailing from Ohio, and the other from New
England; the former, a local publication, seemed of such high pecuniary
value as to be beyond the public reach; while the latter, fully up to it
in merit of learning, but illustrating merely the eggs, was destined to
failure from the first, and, after running a brief career, has at last
ceased to exist. Under these circumstances we embarked in the project,
in the confident expectation that our ornithological friends and others
would give us encouraging support.

The utter impracticability and, we may say, impossibility of any scheme
looking to the delineations of all the nests built by the many hundred
birds belonging to our country, in the small space of a single volume,
was obvious at the outset. All that we could promise our conscience were
the figures of representative forms, and this we have kept in view, and
endeavored to fulfil. To future series, if there should be a demand, we
will leave the continuation of the subject, when, not being necessarily
restricted to family types, we shall labor to invest the Plates with
greater charms and attractiveness in the shape of rarer and more
magnificent birds.

Upon cursory examination it will readily be perceived that the work
has considerably deviated from its original aim. This change occurred
shortly after the issuance of the third number, and in obedience to the
popular demand, which insisted that the birds should be given with the
nests, thereby entailing increased expense, but adding, it cannot be
denied, largely to the beauty, utility and value of the publication.
This innovation, dictated by good sense and sound knowledge,
necessitated further expenditures of capital. In order that an air of
uniformity should pervade the entire work, it was very essential that
extra plates of birds should be furnished for the early drawings of
nests. Determined that the work should be first class in every respect,
and well worthy of patronage, the publisher spared not the expense, and
once more exceeded the promises made to his patrons.

Especial pains have been taken with the text. The aim of the author has
been to present a short, plain and detailed account of the habits of
each species described, from the time of its arrival, if a migrant,
until its retirement to the South in the fall. In the case of resident
birds, he has been particular to give their winter history in addition
to that of the breeding season, in the same orderly and continuous
manner as is apparent in his descriptions of their more migratory
brethren. The presentation of the events in regular sequence, if great
care be not taken, is sure to lead to monotony. This he has tried to
avoid, but how well he has succeeded, he defers to the judgment of his
readers.

Throughout the work, considerable prominence has been given to those
interesting and curious phases of bird-life which are present during the
breeding-period, and which have been the principal study of the author
for many years. Extraneous matter has been sedulously omitted, and
nothing permitted to appear about which there could be serious doubts of
accuracy. While he has drawn largely and, in very many instances,
almost entirely from his own observations, recorded and unrecorded, for
material, he has not hesitated to consult the writings of others, or to
avail himself of the statements of reliable correspondents, where
his own knowledge has been incomplete or defective. Wilson, Audubon,
Nuttall, Brewer, although dead, have spoken to him through their
valuable works, and yielded up their varied observations for occasional
selections. Among living authors, to Baird, Coues, Ridgway, Allen,
Samuels, Cory and Minot, and others less eminent, he has had access
through their writings, and he now takes this opportunity of returning
to them his grateful acknowledgments.

In the arrangement of the details of the Plates, the artist has been
subject to the suggestions and dictations of the author, the constant
aim of the latter being to secure accuracy in this respect, as well as
the greatest variety possible. The typography, for clearness, sharpness,
regularity and finish, has rarely been surpassed by that of any other
work. Much praise is due the enterprising publisher for his liberality
and public-spiritedness.

With these few preliminary remarks, we send this beautiful book out
into the world, trusting that it may meet with a cordial reception
everywhere. If it be the means of acquainting man with the lovable
manners and interesting domestic relations of a few, though not all, of
our feathered friends, and of restraining our youth from nest-destroying
propensities by offering them pictures of the homes of birds for study
and contemplation, and thus abate the evil; or if it add but one new
fact to the author's favorite science of ornithology, or benefit it
in any way whatever, he will rest satisfied, and feel that he has not
labored in vain.

Thomas G. Gentry.

Germantown, Philadelphia, Pa.,

May, 1882.


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[Illustration: 022]


[Illustration: 024]


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THE NESTS AND EGGS OF THE UNITED STATES.

[Illustration: 028]




Plate I.--AMPELIS CEDRORUM, Sclater.--Cedar-Bird.

|The Cedar-Bird, though mainly a denizen of the wooded regions of North
America, and occasionally of cultivated fields and orchards, has been
known to nest from Florida to the Red River country. But, wherever
found during the non-breeding period, it is the same gregarious, nomadic
species.

After the beginning of October, the search for food so completely
engrosses the attention, that it is not until the latter part of May, or
the beginning of June, that the flocks break up into pairs.

Nidification now becomes the all-absorbing passion, and the birds
after mating, which business is generally conducted in a quiet and
unostentatious manner, repair to the woods or hedges in quest of
a suitable shrub or tree in which to establish a home. This matter
requires considerable labor and care; and, ordinarily, no little time is
devoted thereto.

The place usually selected, is a retired and unfrequented thicket or
nook; or occasionally, an orchard in close proximity to an occupied
dwelling. When the former, the cedar, with its tall, nearly vertical
branches and dark green foliage, is, of all our forest-trees,
pre-eminently fitted to receive, support, and conceal the nest; when the
latter, the apple is accorded the preference.

Having chosen the locality, the birds waste no time in idleness, but
apply themselves to the task of building, with the most commendable
zeal and perseverance. Each bird has its allotted part of the work to
perform: the duty of the male being to collect the materials; that of
the female, to shape and fix them in their proper places. Occasionally
the latter, when not thus occupied, accompanies her partner in his
frequent journeys, and assists in collecting and bringing in his load.
The time employed in the labor of construction, making due allowances
for recreation and rest, is between five and six days.

In form, the typical structure is nearly hemispherical, and presents a
rather neat and elegant appearance. It is compactly made, and, in the
generality of instances, exhibits anything but bulkiness. In position,
it rests upon the horizontal limb of a tree, or is wedged in among
several upward-growing branchlets, at elevations varying from three to
twenty feet.

During the period of nidification, almost any substance, having the
requisite flexibility and strength, is in demand; consequently, the
materials of composition are as varied as they are numerous, and depend
in a great measure upon the _environment_. In thickets, small twigs,
stems of grasses, dried leaves, lichens, and the tendrils of the vine,
make up the bulk of the structure; but in places situated in close
proximity to houses, wrapping-twine, strips of rags, and such other
substances as are ready prepared and accessible, are utilized.
The lining is generally fine roots of grasses, bits of string,
flower-stalks, lichens and tendrils. The cavity seldom exceeds three
inches in width, and scarcely two and a half in depth; while the
external diameter varies from four and a half inches to five; and the
height, from two and a half to three.

The specimen which we have figured, and which may be regarded as typical
in its character, was obtained in the vicinity of Bridgeton, N. J., in
the summer of 1878, and was neatly erected upon the horizontal branch of
an oak, and held in position by two nearly vertical branches of the same
tree. It was placed at a height of nearly twenty feet above the ground,
and consists almost exclusively of fibres of the long greenish-yellow
lichens which constitute so conspicuous a feature of the trees of that
locality, in their sylvan retreats. Externally, besides a few fine
rootlets, there is noticeable much white wrapping-string, which
relieves, in a great degree, the monotony of the fabric. Internally,
there is the same green moss-like lichen. The cavity is beautifully
symmetrical, and measures about three inches in width, and nearly two
inches in depth. The external diameter is five inches, and the height,
two inches. The nest is most elaborately finished, and is evidently the
workmanship of superior mechanics. The Plate represents it three-fourths
the natural size, placed upon an apple branch.

Among other fabrics which the writer possesses, is one which was
obtained in June, 1871, in Germantown, Pa., saddled upon the horizontal
branch of an apple-tree. It is rather firmly and compactly built, and
is composed, exteriorly, of stems of the common timothy, fine rootlets,
dried leaves of the mullein, and green leaves of the apple, which are
held together by broad strips of colored rags, bits of lint, and divers
strings, the latter constituting a prominent feature. Interiorly, there
is a promiscuous lining of flower-bearing stems, fragments of strings,
fine roots of grasses, fibres of linen, and tendrils of some species
of cucurbitaceous plant. The nest is about four and a half inches in
external diameter, and nearly three in height. The cavity is three
inches wide, and two and a half inches deep in the middle.

This last model of architecture, as already remarked, was placed upon
the limb of an apple-tree, near its extremity, and barely at a distance
of fifteen paces from an occupied dwelling. The rags, etc., which form
such a prominent feature of the outside, were purposely furnished by an
inmate of the house. When first proffered, it was thought that the birds
would be slow to perceive the use to which they could be put, but not
so, for they entered into the idea with the most praiseworthy alacrity.
And even after the materials were no longer supplied, they would
repeatedly fly to the bush upon which they had been laid, as though
soliciting a continuance of such favors.

The birds having constructed their home, the female commences on the
day following its completion to deposit her complement of eggs. The time
thus spent varies from four to six days, and depends upon the number
which is to constitute a setting. Oviposition being accomplished,
incubation follows, sometimes immediately on the deposit of the last
egg, but, not generally, until the succeeding day. This is the exclusive
task of the female for nearly fourteen consecutive days. Although the
male does not assist in the labor, yet he shows himself to be a very
kind and attentive husband, by providing food for his partner, and
keeping a vigilant lookout for approaching enemies. This he signals by
a low single note, which the female quickly acknowledges, and instantly
the two timid creatures beat a hasty retreat to an adjoining tree or
shrub beyond the reach of peril, where they become passive spectators of
the demolishment of their home, with all its precious burden.

The eggs, which are from four to six in number, resemble those of the
Waxwing, but differ in size, being somewhat smaller. Their groundcolor
passes from a light slate to a dark stone-color. The markings are
chiefly blotches of dark purplish-brown, lighter shades of the
same color, and peuumbræ of light purple, either by themselves, or
surrounding the darker spots. In form, they are either oblong-oval, or
nearly spherical; and in length, they vary from .80 to .90 of an inch, and
in breadth, from .50 to .70 of an inch.


[Illustration: 034]




Plate II.--CONTOPUS VIRENS, Cabanis.--Wood Pewee.

|The Wood Pewee, like most of its congeners, has a somewhat extended
habitat, ranging from the Atlantic westward to the Plains, and from
Texas to New Brunswick. It visits the United States about the 15th of
April, and from this time until its departure for Guatemala in October,
it is principally an occupant of high-wooded regions with a scanty
growth of underbrush, and timbered river-bottoms.

But as the season advances, and the amatory feelings become awakened,
these shady retreats are deserted by a few individuals of more
venturesome disposition, and a temporary abiding-place is sought for
amid the stirring scenes of active farm-life. This generally occurs
during the last of May or the beginning of June, and is the prelude to
the more important act of mating, which follows.

The assumption of matrimonial relations, however, is not a matter that
is entered into without more or less consideration. Occasionally, much
time is spent in its preparation. This is presumably the case when a
young female is courted by some venerable male. But when an apparently
experienced individual is the object of his devotion, the state of
things is different. His advances are then either encouraged and
reciprocated, or they are declined, and the disappointed suitor
compelled to seek a partner elsewhere. It is probable, moreover, that
the same birds pair together on each return of the breeding-season,
unless prevented by death, or some other of the numerous vicissitudes of
life.

The ceremony of mating being over--which business is ordinarily of short
continuance, seldom lasting for a greater period than two days--the
newly-wedded pair now set out to discover a suitable place for the
building of a home. This is a matter of considerable moment, often
requiring the performance of long and extended tours of observation
and exploration. These reconnoissances generally last for a week, but
eventually result in the choice of a locality well adapted, as far
as the essential conditions of shelter and security are concerned, to
become the depository of a nest. The site generally chosen for this
important purpose is a tall open woods with a preponderance of ash or
oak trees; but where a time-honored orchard is the recipient of this
favor, which is sometimes the case, the apple, 011 account of the many
advantages which it possesses, is preferred above all other fruit-trees.

The site being mutually agreed upon, the happy pair proceed with all
possible dispatch and diligence to construct a domicile: the male to
collect and bring in the necessary materials; the female, to fix them
in their proper places, and also to give shape and symmetry to the
structure. The time devoted to this work varies with the industry of the
builders, the style of the nest, and the character of the neighborhood.
But, where the birds are laboring under the most favorable
circumstances, the task is easily accomplished in five days.

This admirable piece of bird-architecture, which rivals in beauty and
symmetry the nest of our little Ruby-throated Humming-bird, is either
saddled upon a living or dead limb that is horizontal and lichen-clad,
or else upon the crotch of a bifurcated branch, and is placed above the
ground at elevations varying from five to thirty feet. According to Nutt
all, "the body of the fabric" occasionally consists of "wiry grass or
root fibres;" but we have yet to meet with a nest with "_small branching
lichens_ held together with cobwebs and caterpillars' silk, moistened
with saliva," as that author remarks. In a structure before us, which is
typical in its character, small strips of inner bark plucked from trees
of chestnut and oak, bits of tow, and fragments of wool, circularly
arranged and compactly pi-essed together, are the prevailing
constituents. Externally, it is closely invested with the bluish-gray
crustaceous lichens which are so plentiful upon the trunks of certain
trees, and also upon fence-rails. In diameter, it measures three and a
half inches; in height, one and a half inches. The width of the cavity
is about two inches; the depth in the centre, three-fourths of an inch.

The most beautiful fabric, as well as the most compactly built, which we
have seen, was obtained in the spring of 1870, not far from Germantown,
Pa. It was placed upon a horizontal branch of an apple-tree, in close
proximity to a farm-house. Externally, it is thickly covered with
_bluish-gray crustaceous lichens_, which are held in place by a few
cobwebs, and fragments of the silk of caterpillars. The base consists
of dried stems of grasses, and on these is reared a neat and cosy
superstructure composed of the inner fibres of the wild and cultivated
species of the vine, and a slight sprinkling of wool. These materials
are variously interwoven, and arranged around the margin so as to form
a cavity. The dimensions of this nest are as follows: External diameter,
three and a half inches; height, one and a half inches; width of cavity,
two inches; depth in the centre, three-fourths of an inch. In the Plate
it is represented the natural size--built upon an oak branch.

In the details of form and dimensions, this nest differs immaterially
from specimens which we have met with and seen from other localities.
But wherever obtained, they will always be found to bear a very close
resemblance to one another, differing chiefly in the character of the
articles which constitute the inner arrangement. We will merely mention
one example which was taken by Mr. Welch, in Lynn, Mass., and which will
give our readers some faint conception of the extent to which variation
is often carried. This structure was placed upon a dead limb of a
forest-tree. Its walls were composed of small dry stems and vegetable
down, finely interwoven, and covered on the outside with lichens which
were cemented to it by a viscid secretion that was apparently supplied
by the builders. The base wras somewhat flattened, much thinner than the
walls, and composed of finer materials. The external diameter was three
inches, and the height one and a half inches; the cavity, two and a half
inches at the rim, and the central depth about one inch.

Having finished their home, only a day or so intervenes when
oviposition becomes the controlling instinct. The female now proceeds
to deposit her complement of four eggs, which she does on consecutive
days, at the rate of a single egg daily. This is followed, on the day
succeeding the last deposit, by the trying duty of incubation. Upon the
female devolves this arduous and irksome labor. For about eleven days
she is thus engaged, until her patience is finally crowned with success.
Although the male takes no part in this duty, yet he contributes his
share to the prosperity of the undertaking, by guarding his partner from
danger, and supplying her with the essential articles of food. When his
home is assailed by feathered enemies, if they are not more than a match
for his strength, he is not slow to wreak instant vengeance upon them.
But in the case of human depredators, where effort would be futile, no
exertion is put forth to cause desistance from any contemplated assault,
save a little scolding.

The eggs are four in number, and resemble in configuration those of
the common Phoebe-Bird. They are obtuse at one extremity, and slightly
tapering at the other. The ground is a rich cream-color, and is
diversified about the larger end with a wreath of purple and lilac
spots, which are large, and occasionally confluent. In length, they
measure .76 of an inch, and in width .54. It is pretty well established
that but a single set is deposited by any given pair of birds in a
season. Nests with eggs, however, have been taken during the last of
July, or the beginning of August; but whether a second laying or not,
we cannot say--possibly the work of birds whose early efforts had been
frustrated.


[Illustration: 040]




Plate III.--MIMUS. CAROLINENSIS, Gray.--Cat-Bird.

|The Cat-Bied is one of the most common and conspicuous of all our
feathered visitants. It reaches the United States from its Central
American home, on or about the 10th of April, and thence diffuses
itself over the whole country, northward as far as the Saskatchewan, and
westward to the Rocky Mountains.

Immediately upon its arrival, it seeks the shelter of dense woods,
or the security of waste fields and bramble-ridden hedges. In such
situations, among the dead leaves that lie scattered upon the ground,
it gleans a well-earned subsistence. But later, when the leaves begin
to appear, and with them an abundance of insect-life, these retreats
are deserted by a few venturesome individuals, and an abiding-place is
sought amid the quiet scenes of rural gardens.

A week or ten days, however, elapse before the sexes are ready to assume
conjugal relations. Being vigorous feeders, and living in the midst of
plenty,' they are seemingly all unconscious of the better and nobler
instincts of their being. But feeding eventually satisfies appetite,
and conduces to the awakening of the amatory forces from their hitherto
dormant condition. The males, by their altered demeanor, are the first
to show signs of change. We no longer observe them engaged in the
pursuit of the juicy caterpillar, or the gilded butterfly, with the
same energy and zest as before. Their aims are higher, their aspirations
loftier. Perched upon a small tree, or screened from observation by
dense clumps of bushes, with heads bent skyward, they startle the echoes
of woodland and valley with their strange, ecstatic music. But the
females still continue feeding, as though utterly oblivious of the
concert which is intended for their benefit. After a day or two thus
spent, they become less absorbed in such matters, yield to the potency
of song, and coyly emerge from obscurity to welcome and encourage their
would-be suitors. The period of courtship is short, and unattended by
any of those peculiar antics which characterize many species at this
time.

In the Middle and Western States mating occasionally commences as
early as the 25th of April, when the season is remarkably forward, but
generally about the first of May--seldom later. In the Territories, from
some unknown cause, it is delayed to a later period. Very little time is
wasted after this event has occurred, in celebrating the occasion, for
the pair soon begin to look for a proper nesting-place. This is a labor
not entered into without previous care and deliberation. Ordinarily
a week or ten days are spent in making a choice of locality. The site
selected is usually a brier, cedar, thorn-apple, or a bush in the
midst of a grove or hedge, seldom remote from a settlement. The nest is
sometimes placed in a maple, and when such is the case, the birds take
the precaution to build it pretty well up. During the summer of 1880,
my son discovered one in a crotch of the red maple, at an elevation
of thirty feet from the ground. This, however, is exceptional, as the
height usually ranges from three to about twelve feet. It sometimes
happens that an injudicious selection of locality has been made, and a
nest has been nearly completed before the mistake is discovered. In this
predicament, instead of "making the best of a bad bargain," the birds
ignore the site for another better suited to their purposes. The
situation being finally decided upon, both birds work diligently during
the cooler hours of the morning and evening, for five or six days, in
the construction of their home. In some instances, particularly during
moonlit nights, the work has been carried on long after twilight has
faded from the earth. Unlike the case of the Cedar-Bird, which we have
already cited, there does not seem to be any regular division of labor.
Both birds collect the materials, as well as arrange them in the
nest. When a suitable article has been found, the finder does not fly
immediately to the nest and adjust the piece, but indulges in short
flights from one object to an adjoining one, carefully surveying the
premises all the while, until within a few yards of the nest, when she
rapidly flies thither, and having disposed of her burden, goes off in
quest of others. Where accustomed to man, the Cat-Bird does not seem to
be much annoyed by his presence.

Nidification ordinarily commences about the 18th of May. The nest
is placed in various positions--sometimes 011 a horizontal limb,
occasionally in a crotch, but generally among the branches of the bush
upon which it reposes. The materials of composition are as varied as
they are numerous. In thickets, and also in places removed from human
habitations, a platform of dried leaves, slender sticks, or weeds is
used as a basis, on which is reared a superstructure of small twigs,
fine roots, herbaceous plants, bits of straws, pine needles, and other
materials which are common to such situations. But when a nest is built
in close proximity to the home of man, bits of string, strands of silk
or thread, and bunches of cotton or wool are appropriated, and made to
do excellent service.

From the foregoing remarks it is obvious that nests vary according to
changes in the _environment_. Hence, what is typical in one locality
might be deemed but a deviation from the normal form, when compared with
a nest of the same species found in an entirely different neighborhood,
and _vice versa_. Mr. Ingersoll describes a nest found near Norwich,
Connecticut, which was suspended between two small bushes in such a
manner that it had no other support than that afforded by a slender
spray from each bush; but the large mass of crooked sticks below offered
so many hooked ends and projections that the nest was very secure. The
writer describes elsewhere a nest that was carelessly made, and bearing
a close resemblance to the structure of the Maryland Yellow-throat,
which he supposed to be the work of young or indolent birds. Another, on
the contrary, showed superior workmanship. The outside of this cosy and
beautiful nest was composed of wool, raw cotton, strings, fragments of
lamp-wick, a slight intermixture of tangled silk, fragments of lichens,
etc., held _in situ_ by strands of silk. Upon this basis was built a
superstructure of fine rootlets, intermingled with patches of wool.

The nest which we have figured in the Plate was found in the vicinity
of Philadelphia, Pa., in the summer of 1876. It is represented the usual
size, and shown in its natural position upon a cluster of blackberry
branches. Exteriorly, it is formed of wrapping string, bits of thread,
fine roots, cotton ravelings, a few grayish lichens, and bunches of
discolored raw cotton in great quantities. Interiorly, there is a lining
of slender grass stems, which monotony is relieved in a measure by a
piece of lamp-wick. The external diameter is five inches, and the height
about two and a half. The cavity is three and a half inches, and the
depth an inch and a half.

Such facts as are detailed above, with innumerable others of a similar
nature that might be adduced, most abundantly and conclusively prove
that birds are not the dull, senseless, routine-loving creatures which
those who have some pre-conceived opinion to uphold, or cherished theory
to sustain, are wont to argue. Though many of their actions are purely
instinctive or mechanical, yet evidence is not wanting to show that they
are gifted with a faculty similar in character to that possessed by man,
but differing in degree. A thousand circumstances justify the
belief that they often reason _a priori_ from cause to consequences,
providently managing with a constant aim for future comfort, convenience
and necessity. Instinct is always the same thing, never advancing, never
retrograding. Reason tends to improvement, always seeking a higher plane
of existence. To say that changes in nest-building imply a _change of
instinct_, is to perplex the understanding by a perversion of language;
but to ascribe them to the operations of reason, influenced by motives,
seems to be the most rational view to take of the matter.

The nest being completed, which is usually the case in about five days
from the time of starting, a brief season elapses before any eggs are
laid. In the Northern States this happens about the third week of May,
and then only one is deposited each day, for four or five days. The
necessary complement being laid, the female immediately takes the nest,
and incubation follows. This is her exclusive task for a period of
twelve or thirteen days. While she is thus engaged, the male stations
himself close-by the nest, only departing therefrom in quest of food for
himself and partner. Should an enemy approach, he assails the
intruder with commendable fearlessness and boldness. Various snakes,
particularly the black-snake, are their inveterate foes. When an attack
is made by one of these wily creatures, both parents, heedless of
danger, often fly so close to the assailant as to lose their lives in
efforts to prevent the nest being ravished and despoiled. But in the
case of human depredators, knowing that resistance would be futile,
they seek to deter them from any contemplated sacrilege by the most
discordant cries and frantic gestures.

The young are objects of tenderest solicitude. Both parents vie with
each other in rendering them every needed service. While one is absent
from home in search of food for their rapacious appetites, the other is
guarding the nest and its precious charges with the most jealous care.
Earthworms, spiders, flies, caterpillars of non-irritating properties,
together with such berries as the season affords, are collected in vast
quantities, and fed to these helpless creatures. But as they increase in
size and age, other articles are added to their voluminous bill of fare.
In about twelve days from the time of hatching, the young are able to
quit the nest, and in six days more, are ready to be initiated into the
mysteries of flight. This important duty devolves exclusively upon the
male parent.

The eggs are oval in form, of a dark emerald green color, very highly
polished, and measure .97 of an inch in length, and .68 in width. There
is small chance of confounding this with any other American bird's
eggs--certainly after a specimen has been once seen. Dr. Abbott, as
quoted by Ernest Ingersoll, once discovered a nest, at Trenton, N. J.,
that contained purely white eggs, which hatched in due time into perfect
young. Similar instances are known in the case of other species laying
dark eggs, where one or two white examples have been found among others
of the normal color in the same nest-complement. But a single brood
is positively known to be raised, although cases have come under
our observation of nests with fresh eggs as late as the 15th of
August--possibly the work of birds whose early efforts had been
frustrated by enemies, or by some accident.


[Illustration: 048]




Plate IV.--ICTERUS SPURIUS, Bonaparte.--Orchard Oriole.

|The Orchard Oriole is quite abundant throughout most of the United
States, from the Atlantic to the Missouri Valley, and on the southwest
to the valley of the Rio Grande. Individuals have been met with by Mr.
J. A. Allen as far west as the base of the Rocky Mountains, in Colorado,
the extreme limit of its western range. It is probable that it breeds
throughout the entire area of its distribution--sparingly, however, in
New England, according to eminent authority; but quite freely in the
Central States, from New York to South Carolina, and thence south-west
to Texas.

The period of its arrival in the United States from the genial clime
of Guatemala, where it winters, has been fixed by Mr. Dresser, who has
carefully studied its nesting-habits in Texas, as early as the first or
second week of April. But, farther north, its presence is not observed
before the last week of April, or the beginning of May.

Unlike the Warblers and Thrushes, which prefer secluded localities, the
subject of our sketch delights in cultivated grounds, particularly
where the apple and the pear abound. Here it takes up its quarters,
accomplishes the object of its mission, and thence retires to its
distant winter-home. Occasionally, a few individuals are to be found in
waste grounds, dense thickets, or along the borders of woods, but such
cases are exceptional, and conditioned only by the close proximity of
some time-honored orchard.

Mating does not occur until the 10th of May, more than two weeks after
the advent of the sexes. But from the first, the male, who precedes his
partner by some two or three days, may be heard in the early morning,
and quite as frequently at the close of the day, from the tall
tree-tops, chanting his wanton rhapsodies, for a half-hour at a time,
utterly unmindful of passers-by. His roundelay, which is undoubtedly the
free and happy expression of a heart actuated by the generous impulses
of love, though composed of rather shrill and sprightly notes, and
uttered with considerable agitation, is quite as pleasing as that of
his nearest kin, the Baltimore Oriole. Clear, distinct and resonant, it
thrills the air around, and is at last borne to the ears of some lonely
female, tired with travel, and unblest by a partner. The life of the
Orchard Oriole seems to be one of joyous song. Although, fond of
a dainty tid-bit, in the form of a juicy worm, he is not given to
gormandizing; he only eats from sheer necessity; for, after having
satisfied the demands of Nature, he resumes his soul-stirring strains,
to the delight of man and bird.

The sexes having come together in a wise and business-like way, with
little or none of the bluster that is customary on such occasions, a
conference ensues, which results in a temporary separation for mutual
good; one bird going in one direction, and the other in an entirely
opposite course. The selection of a suitable spot for a home is the
_vera causa_ of this divergence. This is evidently a labor of little
moment, as, ordinarily, but a day or two is thus spent. It must not
be inferred, however, that the birds are not particular as to place. A
large experience has convinced us that great care and deliberation are
then exercised. Many a tree is visited, and often the same tree again
and again, before a decision is reached; and when at last a suitable
site has been chosen, the happy pair set to work with praiseworthy
diligence to construct a home.

As previously remarked, an apple- or a pear-tree is generally chosen for
nesting purposes. This is especially the case, as far as we are able to
ascertain, in the Central and Western States; but in Texas, the nest is
suspended from the upper branches of a mesquite-tree. In the North,
the common red maple, and several species of coniferous trees, are
occasionally chosen, from some peculiar advantages which they possess.
A nest in the writer's collection, which was built in the summit of a
common swamp maple, occupies a very anomalous position. It is placed
within a crotch formed by four nearly upright, slightly divergent
branches, and is secured by long, flexible grasses from the nest,
wrapped tightly around the twigs. Another specimen, from Germantown,
Pa., is made to dangle from the end of a pine-branch. A peculiarity
about the latter nest is the strained position which the four branches
to which it is fastened are made to assume. The main twig, which is also
the thickest (being about three-fourths of an inch in diameter) shows
evidence of having been forced from a horizontal position to one that
is almost vertical. The latter is really the best authenticated case we
have seen of the truly pensile style of nest. In most instances these
structures are but partially suspended, being supported from beneath by
projecting branches.

In five or six days from the time of the assumption of matrimonial
relations, the nest is started, and through the united efforts of both
birds for the period of a week, is brought to completion. Although
nidification usually commences about the 20th of May, from some
inexplicable cause or other, this essential business is often deferred
until the middle of June and, occasionally, as late as the beginning of
August. But in the latter case, the birds are undoubtedly prevented by
varions accidents from carrying out their designs earlier in the season.
In the building of a home, either the male collects the materials, and
the female weaves them into a nest, or the converse is the case.

There is little variety noticeable in the materials that compose
the nest. The generality of domiciles which we have seen from Texas,
Georgia, Florida, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and several of the Western
States, have no lining, but are entirely constituted of one substance--a
flexible kind of grass or reed. In a few cases we have discovered a
slight lining of vegetable wool, doubtless plucked from the young and
developing fronds of various species of ferns. Bits of yarn, down of
seeds, and animal wool, have been mentioned by various observers as
occasional linings.

Such is the homogeneity of its texture, that once seen and recognized,
it can never be forgotten or confounded. A nest from Texas is the exact
counterpart of a similar structure from Pennsylvania, or of one from
Michigan. The abundance of the particular species of grass out of which
these birds construct their homes, and the facility with which it is
obtainable in localities remote from each other, conspire to produce the
resemblances which are found to exist.

Plate IV exhibits a nest of this species which was obtained in the
vicinity of Germantown, Pa., during the summer of 1880. It was suspended
from the branches of a pear-tree, in the manner shown in the drawing, at
an elevation of forty feet from the ground. It is built exteriorly of
a peculiar kind of long, tough and flexible grass, which is common
in Pennsylvania. The material is woven through and through in a very
wonderful manner, and with as much neatness and intricacy as if actually
done by a needle. It is hemispherical in shape, and open at the top. The
external diameter is four inches, and height two and a half inches;
the cavity is two and a half inches wide, and two and three-quarters in
depth. The color of the outside is yellow, while that of the inside is a
deep brownish-red.

Another specimen which the writer possesses from the same locality, is
built of the same material, more highly colored interiorly, but less so
exteriorly. It is pouch-shaped, and measures two and a half inches in
internal diameter, and four and a half inches in depth. The length is
five inches, and the external diameter three inches. When in position,
this nest was so placed that the short spurs of the pear upon which it
was built, with their beautiful green wreaths of leaves, met and roofed
it over, thus constituting a natural covering for the protection of the
young during the prevalence of inclement weather.

Dr. Brewer describes a nest taken by Mr. Brandigee in Berlin, Conn. This
structure was elaborately and skilfully woven of long green blades of
grass, lined on the inside with bits of yarn, animal wool, and a woolly
substance of purely vegetable origin. In external diameter and height it
measured four inches; in depth, three inches, and in internal diameter
three and a half inches--being widest in the middle. Specimens,
similarly colored, have been frequently observed in Pennsylvania.

By far the most remarkable structure which we have seen is the one we
are about to describe. This domicile was built in a red or swamp maple,
at an elevation of nearly thirty feet from the ground. It is a double
nest, composed entirely of long, flexible, yellow grasses, and securely
fastened between three nearly vertical branches, in a linear direction.
The main nest is inversely sub-conical, four inches high, with an
external diameter of three and a half inches in the middle, and four at
the top. The diameter of the cavity is three inches, and the depth
two and three-fourths inches. The smaller is joined to the first by a
continuation of the grasses of the latter, is somewhat similarly shaped,
but less compact in structure. The height is one and three-fourths
inches, external diameter in the long direction three and one-fourth
inches, and in the short, but two inches. The depth of the cavity is one
and three-fourths inches, and the width, one and a half inches. In one
side there is a circular hole one inch in diameter. Various opinions
have been ventured as to the object of this additional structure. Some
have contended that it was never intended for occupancy or ornament, but
is simply a fabric which the authors have failed to complete. But its
completeness and finish operate against such a theory. The writer, as
well as others who have witnessed this curious specimen of mechanism,
are convinced that it was erected for a special purpose--namely, the
accommodation of either parent while the other is sitting. The opening
alluded to, served for the head of the nonsitting bird, who, from his
position, looking away from the main building, could detect the approach
of enemies, like a sentry upon an outpost.

The nest being completed, on the following day the female begins to
deposit her complement of three or four eggs, at the rate of one egg
daily. Incubation now ensues, sometimes on the day of the last deposit,
but generally on the morrow. This duty lasts from fourteen to fifteen
days, and is wholly the work of the female. While she is thus occupied,
the male stands guard over the nest, or acts the part of a dutiful and
affectionate husband, by providing her with the necessary food. Should
their home be disturbed by feathered assailants, or by man, the female
leaves the nest, and by loud cries and menacing gestures, seeks, with
the assistance of her partner, to drive off the intruders. Often the
attack is carried on with a boldness and determination that challenge
admiration.

The love for offspring is very intense, and manifests itself in
unwearied devotion, and the tenderest solicitude. From early morn until
dusk, one parent or the other is constantly on the go for appropriate
articles of fare. Usually but one is absent at a time on this important
business. But the demands for food are so pressing, that both are
sometimes compelled to leave home, but only for a short time, and then
never beyond seeing distance of the nest. At first the young are fed
upon smooth caterpillars, aphides, spiders, ants, butterflies,
and dipterous insects; but as they mature, small beetles and other
hard-shelled articulates are added to their varied and extensive _menu_.
At the age of fifteen days, they quit the nest, receive instructions
in ærial navigation under the tutorage of the paternal head, and in ten
days more, are prepared to shift for themselves.

One peculiarity of this species must have struck the attention of every
careful observer of its habits; that is, its remarkable sociability.
Audubon cites a case where no less than nine pairs were found breeding
in the same enclosure. We have known instances where as many as five
nests, all occupied, were crowded in the same orchard, within a short
distance of each other. The most perfect good feeling and harmony
prevailed in this little colony, the birds mingling together with the
freedom and ease of inhabitants of the best regulated human communities.

The eggs are oblong-oval in form, pointed at one extremity, and marked
with pale purple blotches and a few deep dark purplish-brown dashes upon
a light bluish-white background. Specimens from Washington measure .85
by .62 of an inch; from New Mexico, .79 by .54; and from Pennsylvania, .88
by .58.


[Illustration: 056]




Plate V.--TYRANNUS CAROLINENSIS, Baird.--Kingbird.

|The Kingbird, or Bee Martin, has an extensive range, being found during
the summer throughout the continent of North America, from Texas and
Florida in the south, as far as the 57th parallel of north latitude.
Westward, north of the 44th parallel, it ranges from the Atlantic
seaboard to Oregon and Washington on the shores of the Pacific.

Its arrival in the United States from Mexico, Central and South America,
and tropical Cuba, where it winters, generally occurs during the
early part of April. Having taken the step, the birds are not long in
spreading themselves over their immense breeding-grounds, which have
been found to be co-extensive with the whole territory over which they
range. They reach the Middle Atlantic States from the 20th of April to
the first of May; the New England, from the first to the 10th of the
latter month, and their more northern habitats, not later than the 15th.

Careful observations, carried through a series of years, have convinced
us that the appearance of the males always antedates that of the females
by a week or ten days. Their advent is unheralded by song, or noisy
demonstration, and is as mysterious as their departure. Our knowledge
of the fact is mainly furnished by the eye, and not by the ear, which is
ordinarily the first organ that apprises us thereof.

Like most of its kin, the Kingbird is not gifted with a fine voice. When
it does essay a madrigal, its shrill, unmusical syllables are anything
but pleasing and welcome to the cultivated ear. It may be otherwise with
beings of its own special class. At all events, his song, if such it
can be truly called, has the anticipated effect--namely, that of
calling from her wanderings, the partner, whose presence he is anxiously
awaiting in his shady retreat.

Unblessed with the talent of producing sweet and soul-inspiring music,
Nature has made amends for her seeming neglect by endowing him with
certain mental and spiritual qualities which amply compensate for the
want of a melodious voice. A noble, self-sacrificing nature, and a
courageous but affectionate disposition, are traits of character which
our little friend possesses in a remarkable degree.

Aware of these high qualities, the female, never unduly coy, but
innocent, arch and simple, seeks rather than shuns the society of her
suitor, almost as soon as she has reached his whereabouts, and proudly
but courteously receives his attentions, which, without any show or
pretension, she generously reciprocates by consenting to become his
companion and helpmeet. Consequently, the season of courtship is
comparatively brief.

Mating being accomplished, the newly-made couple, without much ado, and
with but little waste of time, start off in quest of a suitable spot
for a nest. This appears to be a difficult matter to settle. The
pasture-grounds and waste places for which they have all along
manifested a strong predilection, are deserted for the more congenial
situations to be found about the home of man. Orchards of pear- and
apple-trees, or an isolated pear-tree in close proximity to a human
dwelling, are now visited. When the former, tree after tree is examined,
and the particular advantages of each discussed, before one is found
which answers all the requirements. These examinations often continue
for a fortnight. The female seems to be the controlling spirit in these
transactions.

The nest is generally placed between the forked branches of a pear-tree,
although the apple, cherry, osage orange, oak, cottonwood and tulip-tree
are sometimes employed for this purpose. Why the pear should be
preferred in certain localities above all other trees, it is difficult
to divine, unless the density of its foliage, and the short spine-like
twigs with which it is armed, afford security from the attacks of
rapacious birds and mischief-loving boys. Mostly the birds select for
building purposes the topmost boughs where the densest foliage abounds,
although instances are known to us, through actual observation, where
such structures have been found but five feet from the ground. Again,
nests have been met with on the borders of deep forests, in situations
remote from man, which fact seems to point to the conclusion that the
habit of building in orchards has been acquired since the peopling
of this country by human beings. The fondness of the Kingbird for the
little honey-bee, whose hives are generally placed contiguous to human
dwellings, has, doubtless, through the desire to be near such articles
of luxury, prompted the change of habitat. This species, like one of its
near congeners, occasionally builds upon the timbers of a bridge. Dr.
Brewer mentions a case which came under his observation in the summer
of 1851. While the doctor was passing over a bridge near the village of
Aylesford, N. S., he was startled to see an individual of this species
fly from a nest which was built on the projecting end of one of the
planks of which the bridge was composed. "So remarkably exposed a
position, open to view and on a level with and within a few feet of
the highway," says he, "must be quite unusual." One fact which the same
distinguished writer mentions, showing that the Kingbird, during the
breeding-season, is not always the same ugly, pugnacious little creature
which is claimed for him, must not be omitted in this connection. The
circumstance to which we refer, occurred in the summer of 1871. A pair
of these birds had built a nest in an apple-tree, near the doctor's
residence and within four feet of the nest of the Baltimore Oriole, and
not more than eight or ten feet from the abode of a couple of Robins,
all in the same tree. These three pairs were on evident terms of
friendship and good-will. The male Kingbird, from the topmost bough,
kept a vigilant lookout for danger, and seemed to have all under his
special care, but manifested not the slightest disposition to molest or
annoy.

Few species are more careless in the selection of nesting materials.
Almost anything of the proper length and requisite degree of flexibility
is utilized. Herbaceous stems, leaves of deciduous trees, strips of the
inner bark of the flax, lichens, weeds, wrapping string, carpet rags,
patches of cotton or wool, are a few of the many articles which are
found on the outside; while slender grasses, fibres of bark, fine
rootlets and horse-hairs constitute the inner arrangement.

A typical structure before us is rather loosely built exteriorly, but
increases in compactness towards the interior, where the materials are
more closely intermingled. The frame-work of this nest is composed of
herbaceous stems, chiefly of the wheat and pigweed, large quantities of
fibrous bark of a white, satiny lustre, and leaves of the oak, apple,
pear, etc. The inside is formed of fine grasses, quite artistically and
intricately laid in position. The cavity is beautifully symmetrical, and
measures three inches in width, and two and a half in depth. The outside
is five inches at the base, but contracts to four and a half at the
mouth. The height is about four inches. This nest was obtained in the
neighborhood of Chestnut Hill, Pa., June 15th, 1872.

Another structure which the writer obtained in the same locality, only a
few yards distant from the foregoing, differs slightly from it in form,
but largely in composition. It is built of compressed stems of wheat,
numerous and rather large scraps of printed paper, a few herbaceous
plants, all closely compacted and curiously intermingled. Within, there
is an inner fabric, secured to the former in a neat and substantial
manner, and composed of dark stems and leaves of various species of
grass, besides a small quantity of fine roots. The cavity is less
regular than that of the other, and conspicuously shallow. It measures
three inches in diameter and two in depth. The basal diameter is five
inches, which is nearly the width at the mouth. The vertical thickness
is three and a half inches.

The Plate represents a very beautiful nest which was obtained in
Southern New Jersey, in the summer of 1879. It was placed upon a
cherry-branch, as shown in the drawing, at an elevation of fifteen feet
from the ground. The outside consists of fine lichens, stems of grasses,
wrapping string, roots, tassels of the oak and chestnut, and some
mosses; the inside, of fine lichens, dried catkins of the oak, but
largely of slender stems and rootlets. The external diameter is four and
a half inches, and the thickness about one and three-fourths. The cavity
is three inches wide, and one and a half inches deep. In the engraving
it is shown the natural size.

Before drawing this part of our subject to a close, we cannot permit
the occasion to pass without giving a brief description of one more nest
which was obtained in June, 1880. It was placed upon the horizontal limb
of an apple-tree, at an elevation of about ten feet from the ground. The
peculiarity of this structure is the large number of carpet rags which
depend therefrom. In most cases they extend from ten to fourteen inches
beyond its lower border, thus contrasting very markedly with the dark
stems and rootlets that make up the bulk of the exterior. Was this
arrangement the result of blind chance, or were the rags placed there
for some special purpose?

The building of a home occupies the birds from four to five days. Did
the builders work continuously at it from sunrise to sunset, the period
of nidification would be considerably shortened. But such is not the
ease. They seem to have no regular hours for labor, but only work as
it suits their convenience. The duty of the male is to collect the
materials; that of the female, to arrange them in suitable places. The
nest being completed, scarcely a day passes before the first deposit is
made. Subsequent deposits are made on consecutive days until the full
complement is reached, when the female on the day following the last
extrusion, takes the nest, and continues thereon, with brief intervals
of intermission, for a period of thirteen or fourteen days, when her
labors are repaid by the appearance of a nest-full of tiny fledglings.
While she is thus occupied, the male acts the part of a dutiful and
faithful husband, guarding her from danger, and supplying her with the
choicest and most savory articles of food. When not foraging, he may be
seen upon the topmost bough of the tree upon which the nest is placed,
directly above his mate, on the constant lookout for danger. Should an
enemy approach, he immediately gives vent to his displeasure by a few
shrill twitterings, elevates his crest, and then gives chase to the
intruder, whom he pursues for a considerable distance, all the while
darting at him from different positions, and inflicting the severest
punishment, in order to teach him the folly of trespassing. Owls,
Eagles, Crows, Grakles, Jays, and even the common barnyard Hen, are made
to feel the force of his vengeance; but his most implacable enemy is the
Purple Martin.

The young are objects of more than ordinary parental solicitude. The
most endearing attentions are lavished upon them, and no efforts are
spared to render them comfortable and happy. Caterpillars, flies, and
other equally tender insects, are brought in great quantities, during
the first few days of their existence, to satisfy the demands of their
greedy appetites; but as they become larger, beetles and grasshoppers
are added to their dietary. When fourteen days old, they quit the nest,
but still remain under home influences for a fortnight later, when they
are allowed to shift for themselves.

In many particulars the eggs of this species resemble those of the
Arkansas Flycatcher, but differ mainly in their somewhat larger
size, and more pointed form. They are oval in shape, white in
ground-color--except when fresh, when they show a roseate tinge--and
beautifully spotted with brown and reddish-brown blotches and markings,
which are confluent about the larger extremity in some, and irregularly
scattered over the surface in others. They measure from 1.02 to .87 of
an inch in length, and from .75 to .72 in width. Specimens from different
parts of the country have been examined, and all, without exception,
bear a very close resemblance to each other, scarcely differing more
than do eggs of the same clutch.


[Illustration: 064]




Plate VI.--AGELAIUS PHOENICEUS, Vieillot.--Redwing Blackbird.

|The Redwing Blackbird is found throughout North America, from ocean to
ocean, and westward to the 57th parallel. From Texas and Florida to
the plains of the Saskatchewan, wherever found, it breeds more or less
abundantly.

During the winter they congregate in large parties in Southern Virginia,
the Carolinas, and all the Gulf States, especially near the sea-coast
and among old fields of rice and grain. Occasionally, small flocks
are found during the same season about stables and hay-stacks, in the
vicinity of Vancouver. But in the Eastern, Middle, Western and Central
sections, they are chiefly migrants.

Early in March these large assemblies break up, a part separating
in pairs and remaining among the Southern swamps, while the greater
portion, the males leading the way, direct their movements northward.
Later in April they have re-established themselves in their favorite and
accustomed haunts.

On their arrival, the males consort together in high open fields, where
their songs may be heard, at regular intervals, from morning until
night. At this time they are rather suspicious, and can be approached
only by the exercise of great caution. But when the females make
their appearance, their attention becomes so absorbed, that they are
apparently oblivious of events transpiring around them. The presence of
the latter is the signal for redoubled vigor in the line of music.
From bush and tree, from ground and fence-rail, and from almost every
available place, in loud, clear and resonant notes, is heard their
strange, unmistakable melody, each bird striving to outsing his
companions. Ever and anon a half-dozen voices may be heard at the same
time, producing a perfect medley of sounds, enough to "split the ears of
the very groundlings." The males seem never to weary of singing. It is a
remarkable and well-authenticated fact, that during the breeding-period,
and even late in September when preparing to migrate, the same sweet but
pensive strains are heard.

Nearly three weeks have expired since the advent of the Redwing, and
still the sexes remain unmated. This cannot long continue. Already a
change is manifest. The males are more musical, while, on the other
hand, a spirit of restlessness pervades the females. The latter are now
no longer given to feeding as before, but cease from their labors, and
bend listening ears to the gushing notes of love which swell around.
Enraptured, impressed, they eventually emerge from their hiding-places,
select their partners, and hie away to more congenial scenes.

The period of mating is unusually short, and unmarked by any special
peculiarities. It generally occurs about the 20th of April, but seldom
later than the beginning of May. The chief concern of the newly-wedded
pair now seems to be the selection of a building-spot. This is a matter
of importance, and, with most species, is attended with considerable
difficulty. Not so in the present instance. The birds repair to
accustomed sites, and there, amid the small bushes and tussocks which
abound, prepare their houses.

Nest-making commences in the Middle Atlantic States between the 25th of
April and the 1st of May; in New England, about the 1st of June, but not
before the middle of this month, in more northern regions. The nest is
usually placed in a cluster of reeds, or in the tops of small bushes
alongside of streams of water. Occasionally, small trees and fields of
timothy are made the recipients of these marks of attention, and, in
rare instances, the bare ground is made subservient to this purpose.
Almost every ornithologist who has paid any attention to field-work
has observed nests in their ordinary positions upon small hushes, or in
bunches of swamp grass, but few, we opine, have met with them elsewhere.
Mr. Maynard, as stated by Dr. Brewer, seems to have been the first to
notice this change. While exploring an island in the marshes of Essex
River, he found a number of nests in trees at an elevation of twenty
feet from the ground. One of these structures, which was purse-shaped,
was composed entirely of eel grass, and placed upon a sapling, at a
height of fourteen feet.

High grounds are seldom chosen for nidificating purposes, for the
obvious reason that they offer poor facilities for food-collection; the
aquatic larvæ, may-flies, dragon-flies, and mosquitoes, which constitute
a conspicuous part of the diet of these birds, being only found in
marshy situations. Even here a preference is manifested for certain
positions. Small bushes along the borders of streams, from the two-fold
advantages which they possess, are almost wholly adopted in some
localities. Being convenient to appropriate food-stuffs, they are placed
beyond the reach of snakes, particularly water snakes, which have a
decided partiality for young birds.

Having selected a building-spot, the pair proceed with all possible
dispatch to construct a home. This requires the joint labor of the
sexes, during the early mornings and evenings, for a period of about
five days. The articles of composition are chiefly collected by the
male, while the female performs the more difficult operation of putting
them in position. Considerable differences are often noticeable in
these structures. Those placed upon bushes are, as a general thing,
more symmetrical and compact than those found in clumps of grasses, and
differ still further in being-plastered with mud on the outside, which
adds to their durability; while, on the other hand, nests enclosed by
tall overarching grasses, have a looseness of arrangement that will
scarcely bear manipulation. But where the nest is placed in fields of
timothy and clover, there is evidence of great pains having been taken
in its construction.

Having finished their domicile, generally on the following day, but
sometimes not for nearly a week afterwards, as is the case when mud and
other damp substances have been used in building, the female begins to
deposit her eggs, at the rate of one a day, until the full number of
five has been laid. Incubation follows on the day of the last deposit,
and continues for fifteen days. This business devolves wholly upon the
female. While she is thus engaged, the male is not idle, but stands
guard over the nest, or ventures off in quest of food for himself and
companion. Should the nest be assailed, both parents seek, by the most
piteous cries and remonstrances, to drive, off the offending party. In
case of pillage, they keenly feel the injustice, and for several days
bewail their misfortune. But they soon recover their usual spirits,
and prepare to remedy the disaster. So tenacious are they of a chosen
locality, that the same pair has been known to build as many as three
nests in the same bush, after having been robbed twice.

The parents show the most intense affection for their progeny. Day after
day they watch over their helpless infancy with a devotion somewhat akin
to that which a human mother manifests toward her child. Their slightest
desire is a law, which is obeyed with cheerfulness and alacrity. When
food is in demand, they prove themselves to be willing providers, each
parent vying with the other in patience and fidelity. While one is
absent in quest of food, the other remains at home to protect them from
danger, the labor being accomplished by turns. Earthworms, caterpillars,
fresh-water larvæ, flies and mosquitoes constitute their earliest fare.
But later, beetles, butterflies, and various kinds of fruits help to
swell their hitherto very extensive dietary. When about fourteen days
old, the young leave the nest, but are not yet prepared to earn
their own living. This requires an additional period of twelve days.
Brood-raising being over, both young and old continue in the old haunts,
until near the time of departure, when they collect in small flocks, and
take up their southward-bound journey.

A typical nest of this species is somewhat irregular in shape, and
rather coarsely and rudely built. It is composed of stubble and broad
grasses variously intermingled, and lined with soft meadow grass. The
dimensions vary according to locality. Several nests before us, from New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, and the South and West, have an average external
diameter of five inches, and a height of three. The cavities, however,
are more uniform, and generally measure three inches in width, and
one and a half in depth. But when a nest is built in a bush, the outer
basketlike frame is carefully interwoven with, and strongly secured to,
adjacent twigs. Though somewhat rudely put together, it is nevertheless
firmly and compactly woven. The outer framework is usually made of
rushes, strong leaves of the iris, and, in some instances, of an
additional article apparently similar to mud. Within is packed a mass
of coarse materials, over which is placed a thick lining of grasses
and sedges. These nests, in the matter of size, differ from the former
chiefly in the particulars of length and thickness. The internal
dimensions offer no very striking exceptions.

The nest represented in the Plate is three-fourths of the natural size,
and was obtained by the writer in the summer of 1879, by purchase, from
Mr. Alexander M. Reynolds, of Philadelphia. It was built in a field of
grass, many of the stalks of which being wrought in its composition. In
figure it resembles an inverted cone, and is beautifully, symmetrically
and compactly put together. The outside is formed of grasses and rushes,
very neatly and intricately interwoven, and shows here and there a head
of dried pappus plucked from some species of hawkweed. The inside is
lined with sedges and fine blades of grass. As shown in the drawing, the
nest occupies a rather conspicuous position. This was not the case in
its natural location. Being found in the centre of a large field, it
is at once evident that the authors had spared no pains to make the
concealment as complete as possible. In height, this fabric measures
nine inches. Its external diameters above, below, and in the middle,
are, respectively, six, two, and four and a half inches. The width of
the cavity is three inches, and the depth three.

The eggs are oval in contour, of a light bluish ground-color, and are
marbled, blotched and streaked with light and dark purple, chiefly about
the greater extremity. In size, they vary considerably; the average
length of a large number of specimens from different regions being 1.01
inches, and breadth .76. In the Middle, New England and Western sections
of our country, this species is single-brooded; but further south,
three, and even a larger number of broods, are annually raised.


[Illustration: 072]




Plate VII.--TROCHILUS COLUBRIS, Linaeus.--Ruby-throated Humming-bird.

The Ruby-throated Humming Bird is found throughout Eastern North America
as far west as the Missouri Valley, and thence northward to the 57th
parallel. It breeds from Florida and Western Texas to the plains of the
Saskatchewan and the head-waters of the Elk River.

From its winter-quarters in Guatemala and Mexico, it takes up its line
of flight when the season has fairly opened, reaching our southern
frontiers late in March. Thence it slowly advances northward in its
migration, arriving in Upper Georgia about the 10th of April; in
Pennsylvania, from the last of April to the Middle of May, and in its
northern habitats, during the last of May, or the beginning of June.

For a brief season subsequent to arrival the sexes remain apart, and
seem only intent upon the procurement of food. This is especially the
case in the Middle Atlantic States where their habits have been very
closely observed. Here they make their appearance with the blossoms of
the horse-chestnut and tulip-tree, and may be seen at all hours of
the day, in fair weather, delving into flowers for honeyed sweets,
or probing their bosoms for the caitiffs within. In feeding, their
movements resemble those of the hawk-moths. Gracefully they suspend
themselves in mid-air before the opening flowers, ravish their hidden
treasures, and, with almost the speed of an arrow let fly from a bended
bow by some skilled archer, are off in an instant, possibly to more
delectable vineyards, or to some shady nook for rest and contemplation.
For agility and fleetness of motion the little Ruby-throat is certainly
unsurpassed by any of our smaller feathered species.

But things cannot long remain in this state. Their favorite flowers must
soon wither and decay, and with their timely death, must inevitably come
the disappearance of an easy and luxurious means of subsistence. The
tooth of appetite will then grow dull, and other thoughts and scenes
invite their attention. Experience has taught us that the falling of
the blossoms of the horse-chestnut and tulip-tree foretell the time of
mating.

This important business is performed without the least semblance of
show. The sexes tired, as it were, of the riotous and luxurious lives
they have been leading, come together by mutual agreement, and enter
into matrimonial relations. This being accomplished, they separate for a
brief period, and each proceeds to scour the country for miles around
in quest of a suitable tree in which to locate. When one is selected
by either bird, the other is summoned to the spot to talk over, in true
bird-language, the merits thereof. Should the parties differ as to the
advantageousness of the site, no quarrelling or bickering is indulged
in, but, in the most friendly manner, they separate, and renew the
search until one is found which gives satisfaction.

Having decided upon a locality, the birds are now ready to commence
building. This takes place between the first and the tenth of June in
the Middle States, about the tenth in New England, and as early as the
fourth in the Southern Atlantic and Gulf States. The situations chosen
vary considerably. Sometimes high, open woods are selected; again,
low, dense thickets; but, more frequently, an orchard close-by a human
dwelling, or an isolated tree in the midst of a lawn. Occasionally, the
birds have been known to build in trees along travel-worn thoroughfares.
A case in point came under our notice in the summer of 1872. While
returning home one day, we were surprised to see a female fly from her
nest in a maple-bough, only a few feet above our head. The nest was
immediately examined, and found to contain a pair of young birds. Not
wishing to disturb the happiness of the family, we permitted it to
remain intact. On visiting the spot a week or ten days afterward, it was
found to be empty, the birds either having matured and flown away, or
else had been killed by some ruthless invader. For several successive
years a nest was to be seen on the same tree and branch, but whether the
work of the same pair, we are unable to say.

That this species is not very particular as to the kind of tree in which
it builds, has been our experience, and we do not find any recorded
instance of disagreement. Dr. Brewer mentions but one kind of tree
in which it builds--the apple. In addition to it, we have found nests
saddled upon the pear, red-oak, white-oak, willow, red maple, sugar
maple, cottonwood, beech, pine, etc. In fine, almost any tree will
answer this purpose, as the generality of arboreous growths are more
or less favorable to the development of lichens. Several anomalous
positions, as on pine-cones and warty excrescences, have frequently been
met with in our ornithological rambles.

The nest is the result of the joint labor of both birds, who work with
unwearied perseverance and diligence until it is completed; the male
furnishing the raw material to be manipulated and adjusted by his
zealous partner. Occasionally, the latter assists her "liege lord" in
collecting and bringing in his burden.

In the matter of composition, there is but little difference in fabrics
from the most distant regions. Nests from Texas are exact counterparts
of those from Georgia; and these, again, resemble others from
Pennsylvania and Michigan. All we have seen are composed mainly of a
woolly substance of vegetable origin, plucked from the leaves of the
common mullein, or from the young and unexpanded leaves of the various
species of oak, immediately before their full development. This
substance, after being wrought into form and symmetry, is strengthened
on the outside by small woody fibres, or the webs of spiders. Over all
is placed a close and compact thatching of small lichens, a species of
Parmelia, glued thereon by the viscid saliva of the builders. On the
inside may be frequently observed a thin lining of white feathers; and,
on the outside, a few dried catkins. In dimensions, these nests usually
measure one and a half inches in external diameter, and nearly one and
three-fourths in height. The cavity is generally three-fourths of an inch
wide at the rim, and the same in depth. Specimens have been met with
which were but half an inch deep, and others which showed a much greater
depth, as well as external height.

The nest in the Plate is from Comal County, Texas, and was found upon
a beech-tree. It is composed almost entirely of vegetable wool from
the poplar and oak, and is lined with a few small white feathers.
Externally, there is a dense covering of bluish crustaceous lichens and
brownish oak-tassels, which are held in position by saliva and strands
of spider's silk. It was placed upon a branch at an elevation of twenty
feet above the ground. In height it measures one and three-fourth
inches; in external diameter, one and a half. The width of the cavity is
three-fourths of an inch, and the depth about a half.

A nest obtained in Lynn, Mass., in June, 1860, was saddled on a
horizontal branch of an apple-tree. It is woven of a soft woolly
material, fine in texture, silky in appearance, and of the purest white
color. Basally, it is strengthened with pieces of bark; and laterally,
with fine vegetable fibres. The whole exterior is beautifully covered
with a compact coating of lichens. It measures one and a half inches
in height, and two and one-fourth in external diameter. The cavity is
shallow, and is seven-tenths of an inch in depth, and one in width.

A very beautiful nest, as well as a marked deviation from the normal
form, as far as materials of composition are concerned, was discovered
in June, 1870, upon a branch of a red-oak which overhung a by-road, and
within a few feet of a woollen factory. Scattered in the neighborhood
was a lot of reddish shoddy, which had been discarded by the mill hands.
The birds, it is evident, were not slow in perceiving the use to which
this "waste" could be put. Accordingly they set to work, and, in a few
days, had constructed a beautiful nest, at a saving of much labor and
time. It might be thought there was a dearth of the usual materials, but
this was not so, as a careful survey of the grounds soon satisfied us.
Interiorly, this nest was entirely composed of this shoddy, while the
exterior was covered with the ordinary lichens fastened to the nest
proper by a few cobwebs and a secretion from the builders. In external
diameter, it measured one and three-fourths inches; in height, two
inches; in internal diameter, three-fourths of an inch, and nearly as
much in depth of cavity.

The nest being finished, which is the work of five or six days, but
a day or two elapse, and the female is ready to deposit her eggs. The
latter, to the number of two, are laid in as many consecutive days.
Incubation immediately ensues, and continues for a period of eight days.
Its duties devolve upon the female, who sits with commendable patience
until her task is accomplished. While thus employed, her mate stands
guard, or is abroad in quest of food. If any attempt is made to
interfere with the nest while he is on duty, the most menacing gestures
and loudest remonstrances are indulged in. Should these not have the
desired effect of frightening away the intruder, he darts at his foe
with wide, open bill, and endeavors to inflict summary punishment. He
is so persistent in these attacks that it is often very hard to beat him
off. The female, on the contrary, is of a more passive nature, quietly
keeping the nest, although not unmindful of the proceedings being
enacted, and only venturing therefrom when danger is imminent. These
assaults continue while the nest is endangered, and even for a short
time afterwards, when the birds retire to a neighboring tree to brood
over their mishaps, and consider what is best to be done.

The young are objects of special interest to the parents, who render
them every needed attention. When one is absent for food, the other
stays at home to protect them from danger. Their food consists of a
prepared mixture of nectar and soft insects, which they procure by
thrusting their bills into the mouths of their parents. It was formerly
supposed that this diet consisted entirely of the honey of flowers, but
this opinion of the ancients was not wholly a fallacy, since a portion
of nectar is taken with the insects, and supplies to the Humming-bird
that kind of nourishment which the larger insectivorous birds derive
from fruit. When eleven days old, these tiny creatures, in their
beautiful robes of green, quit the nest, but necessarily remain
under parental control a week longer, before they are able to support
themselves. By some inexplicable circumstance, the young do not
leave for their winter-homes until some time after their parents have
departed.

The eggs are beautifully elliptical in outline, and of a pure dull white
color. They measure .50 by .34 of an inch. Never more than a single brood
is raised annually. Nests with eggs have been taken as late as the 20th
of July, but these were doubtless laid by females whose early efforts
had been interfered with.


[Illustration: 080]




Plate VIII.--PIPILO ERYTHROPHTIIALMUS, Vieillot.--Towhee Bunting.

|The Towhee Bunting, or Ciieavink, has an extended distribution
throughout the eastern portions of the United States, ranging from
Florida and Georgia on the south-east to the Selkirk settlements on the
northwest, and westward to the border of the Great Plains, where it is
replaced by closely allied races. It breeds wherever found, certainly in
Georgia, and, doubtless, in Florida, although sparingly.

According to Wilson, it is found in the middle districts of Virginia,
and thence south to Florida, during the months of January, February
and March; but as the weather grows mild, and Nature begins to don her
livery of green, many forsake these haunts, and wing their flight
to distant localities; reaching the Middle Atlantic States about the
fifteenth of April, Massachusetts and Connecticut towards the last of
the month, Maine and New Hampshire early in May, and the North-western
States a little later.

In some regions the birds arrive singly, but retire in small flocks.
This is the case in the vicinity of Washington; whereas in Eastern
Pennsylvania, they are somewhat gregarious for a week or ten days after
their arrival, when they separate, and lead solitary lives. Their sole
object now is the acquirement of food. For this purpose they repair to
waste fields and damp thickets, or to small patches of underbrush
along frequented roads. Here their simple song may be heard during the
intervals of feeding, with scarce an intermission, from five o'clock
in the morning until eight in the evening, by the early or belated
pedestrian. In rain or in sunshine, or at noonday in the hottest weather
of the season, the woods resound therewith, or with that peculiar note
of complaint from which the species has received the name Chewink.

There is an expression of cheerfulness in these notes, though they are
not delivered with that enthusiasm which characterizes the songs of many
of our species. But music, like poetry, must be of a somewhat plaintive
nature, if it would take firm hold of the feelings.

After a period of three or four weeks mostly spent in feeding, the males
seem to tire of such a life, and seek to attract the attention of the
females. Perched on the lower branch of a tree, near the edge of a
wood, or 011 the summit of a small tree or tall bush in the midst of
a thicket, or hid from view by clusters of bushes, they may be heard
pouring forth, with all the fervor of their being, their strange
madrigals. At first, their efforts to captivate are unheeded. But
patiently and persistently the singing is kept up in a quiet, simple
manner, until their auditors become impressed, and modestly quit their
shady retreats to encourage the musicians by their presence. Having
gained this advantage, they follow it up, and in less than a week from
the time the first note was uttered, have mastered the situation. The
females wholly entranced, yield to the persuasions of their would-be
lords, and conjugal relations are entered into. This generally occurs
not later than the fifteenth of May. But the happy couple are not yet
ready to begin nest-building. They must needs celebrate the occasion
of their marriage. Accordingly, they set out on a wedding-trip, so to
speak, visiting adjoining lots and thickets, and enjoying the delights
and scenes around them. This continues for four or five days, when the
lovers, thoroughly surfeited, return and quietly settle down to prosy
life.

The erection of a home is now the absorbing topic of interest and
conversation. Where to build, and how, are matters that are agitating
their minds, and which seem, judging from the actions of the parties
interested, very difficult questions to adjust. After no inconsiderable
portion of time thus spent, and with little possibility of coming to any
decision, a separation ensues, and the country scoured for miles around.

Should a situation which seems eligible be discovered by either
party, the other, by a peculiar signal, is called to the spot, and the
advantages thereof carefully discussed. If satisfactory, it is accepted,
and building operations commenced. Otherwise, the search is commenced
anew, and continued until one is obtained which is mutually pleasing.
But where the birds are unmolested, the same localities are probably
selected on each return of the breeding-season. The situation generally
chosen is a small thicket with a dense growth of underbrush, or a high
piece of ground overrun by brambles, and dotted by patches of fern.
Latterly, nests have been frequently found in clumps of tall grass, in
fields once swampy in character.

In New England, the locality usually chosen is a low, dense woods,
thickets of briers and bushes near streams of water, or the "scrub,"
which is a low or bushy "growth" of trees, chiefly of oaks and birches,
occurring in dry, hilly lands once occupied by pines. In the extreme
northern limits of its range, dry uplands, near the edges of woods, or
high tracts covered with a. low brushwood, are used, rather than low or
moist grounds, as was the case in some sections at the time when
Wilson wrote. The love for such situations doubtless gave rise to the
appellation of "Swamp Robin," which is generally applied to this species
in Pennsylvania.

When placed within a thicket, or in the borders thereof, the nest is
either built in a depression of the ground, usually beneath a bunch
of grass, in a pile of old brush or fagots, or on a slight prominence
surrounded by tall, graceful ferns. Within a concavity, the structure
is made to project slightly above the margin thereof, and is artfully
concealed from the gaze of intruders by dry leaves. So completely is it
hidden, that all efforts to find it frequently prove unavailing.

The work of building is entered into with diligence and alacrity, each
bird collecting and adjusting the materials as it thinks best. While
thus engaged--which is usually from sunrise to sunset, allowing the
necessary time for foraging and rest--the architects seldom, if ever,
get at outs, but labor with a purpose, and in the best of spirits. The
time thus spent has never been known to exceed three days.

So little variation is manifested in these structures, that specimens
from the Southern States resemble those from the Eastern, Middle and
Western sections so closely, as to be readily identified by persons of
the least experience in such matters.

A typical nest is mainly composed of the leaves of deciduous trees,
twigs, grass and roots, 011 the outside, and is lined with the inner
fibres of the wild grape-vine, or with fine stems of grasses. The
drawing represents it as being constituted of the stems of grasses, with
a slight intermixture of leaves and roots, and as having a lining of
reddish-brown stems of the same. It measures four and a half inches in
extreme diameter, and two and a half in height. The internal diameter is
two and three-fourths inches, and the depth of cavity one and a half.

Oviposition commences on the day succeeding the completion of the nest,
and proceeds at the rate of one egg daily, until the entire complement
is deposited. Incubation closely, follows, usually a day or two after
the last egg is laid. This is undoubtedly the exclusive task of the
female for a period of thirteen days. Diligent and close watching has
failed to show that the male takes any direct part in this important
business. Although seemingly averse, or unaccustomed to this kind of
work, he does not fail to contribute his share to the success of
the undertaking. While his wife is engaged in sitting, he is an ever
watchful and cautious husband. Unlike many other species, he does not
make himself too conspicuous, but stations himself some distance from
the nest, for fear of revealing its whereabouts, and only ventures into
the neighborhood at certain regular periods, to receive the commands
of his patient little house-wife, or to administer to her bodily
wants. Though shy, these birds often seem saucy; and, while one person
complains of their chirruping to and starting his horse, another claims
that, 011 the discovery of their nest, they express their grief so
impudently as to arouse his indignation. But when the nest lias been
stumbled upon by some cruel oologist, and the female is compelled to
abandon it and seek safety in flight, the male does not even then
desert his hiding-place to come to her rescue. Everything is left to
her judgment, and well does she play her _role_ in the drama. By various
strategic movements, such as imitating the actions and cries of a
crippled bird, she decoys the inexperienced intruder to a remote
distance, when she flings off' the veil of hypocrisy, and quickly
disappears in the bushes. With the trained collector this _ruse_ hardly
succeeds, and the disappointed parent often beholds with profound sorrow
the discovery of her nest, and its destruction by ruthless hands.

When the young are hatched, they are watched over with jealous care, and
receive more than ordinary attention. Grubs, earthworms, plant-lice and
larvæ of butterflies, in immense numbers, are daily gleaned, and fed
to their hungry appetites. Such are their demands for food, during the
first week or ten days of existence, that the parents are kept extremely
busy in catering thereto. Occasionally, both are absent from home 011
this important business, but the rule seems to be for one parent to
keep a watch over it and its helpless inmates, while the other is thus
occupied.

At the age of thirteen or fourteen days, the young quit the nest, and
receive their first lessons in the mysteries of bird life; and, in
ten days more, are forced to shift for themselves, but are permitted,
however, to remain with the parents until the time of the autumnal
migration, when they help to form the small flocks which are seen flying
southward about the middle of October.

The eggs of this species are four in number, rounded-oval in shape,
and are covered over the entire surface with dots and blotches of
reddish-brown upon an obscure grayish, or reddish-white background. In
some specimens, these dots run into each other; and, in others, they are
distinct, being more profusely collected about the larger extremity.
The average measurement of a score of specimens from widely-separated
localities is .97 by .80 of an inch. Such is the resemblance which
obtains between these eggs and those of the Brown Thrush, that when
sets of both are placed together in a tray, the difference between
them would scarcely be apparent to a novice in such matters. It
remains for the keen and critical eye of the more advanced student to
point out the distinction, which consists in the paler and more
roseate tint of the Chewink's eggs, and the larger size of those of
the Thrasher. Wherever observed, these birds seem to be
single-brooded, although nests are sometimes found with young, in June
and August, which fact would seem to argue that occasionally more than
one brood is reared; but, generally, the first brood leaves the nest
too late for another to be brought out before the appearance of the
early frosts.


[Illustration: 088]




Plate IX.--PICUS PUBESCENS, Linaeus.--Downy Woodpecker.

|The Downy Woodpecker, or Lessee Sapsucker as it is called byway of
distinction, is a resident rather than a migratory species, and is known
to breed wherever it is found. Its area of distribution extends from
Lower Louisiana to Labrador, and from Texas northward through New Mexico
and the Indian Territory to the 58° of latitude. It is also quite common
in the maritime parts of Alaska, the Aleutian Islands excepted. Although
abundant east of the Rocky Mountains, and rather more numerous than its
nearest kin, the Larger Sapsucker, yet, owing to the smallness of its
size, it is not so well known outside of cultivated districts.

In the autumnal and winter months, these birds lead solitary lives. Go
where we will, then, we may here and there behold isolated individuals
busily probing the fissured bark of trees for the eggs and pupa of
insects. Even the mature forms meet with the same cruel treatment.

Though rarely observed in cultivated districts during these times, yet
a visit to the woods will reveal many a little fellow in dappled dress
arrayed, with or without a crown of red, wending his slow and labored
flight from tree to tree, or waking the clear echoes of rock and shady
glen with his shrill music and weird drumming.

But when balmy Spring returns, and releases the earth from the icy
fetters of the winter-god, and peoples our shade and fruit trees with
countless insect existences, then quits he the wild forest scenery, in
a measure, and betakes himself to our lawns and orchards. This is not
always the case. For in those lands where civilization has not planted,
but where Nature still reigns in her pristine glory, lie is the same
changeless creature as when first he greeted the vision of man.

'Tis now the social forces, freed from the frozen bonds of winter,
rejoice in new vitality. The sexes no longer shun each other as before,
but mingle in the most friendly manner. The male is the first to show
symptoms of change. He pursues his predatory exploits with less of his
characteristic zeal, and seeks to attract the attention of the gentler
sex. With this object in view, he arranges his toilet with scrupulous
nicety, and then goes forth to parade his beauties and grace before a
bevy of idle, listless females. Ever and anon, he varies his occupation,
by the rendition of a song. But his auditors seem either incapable of
appreciating his efforts to please, or else are too much concerned with
other matters to pay any real attention thereto.

Our little hero, not to be baffled, keeps up his courage, and with a
patience truly praiseworthy, continues his suit, till at last he reaches
the ear of some simple-minded female, when he pours forth, with all the
resistless eloquence of his being, the short but pleasing narrative of
his love.

Should his affection be requited as it deserves, the happy lovers,
without further ado, hie themselves away to sunny field or shady grove,
to enjoy a brief honey-moon, preparatory to entering upon the trying and
responsible duties of wedded life.

The getting of a wife is not always so easily accomplished. It is
generally attended with many trials and vicissitudes of fortune.
Sometimes when success seems ready to crown the efforts of an actor in
this part of life's drama, a rival comes upon the scene, and claims
the attention of the wooed. The most ridiculous antics now ensue, and
continue for hours together. The female becomes the most whimsical of
creatures, lavishing her caresses first upon one, and then upon the
other of her suitors. The jealousy of the contesting males now knows no
bounds, and only vents itself in long and fierce encounters. The female,
at last, comes to the rescue, desists from her meaningless flirtation,
and bestows the jewel of her affections upon her first lover. The combat
ceases, and the participants separate.

Occasionally, several pairs will meet by chance upon the same tree,
when similar scenes will be enacted by the jolly females, much to the
vexation of their respective suitors. These farces have been known to
last for nearly a week, but they seldom continue for a longer period
than two days.

Mating having taken place, which is usually the case during the
first week of May, never earlier except when the season is remarkably
advanced, the birds make ample amends for the time thus seemingly
frittered away, by the perseverance and diligence with which they
ransack the orchards and groves for a suitable tree in which to excavate
a nest.

The selection of a site is a matter of no little importance, the greater
part of a week being consumed in making the necessary reconnoissances.
These explorations commence early in the morning, and continue with but
few interruptions until the close of the day. They are never performed
singly, but always in pairs. One feature thereof strikes us as
peculiarly interesting, and as deserving of mention. It is the perfect
harmony and good-will which then prevail.

If a situation is discovered by one of the parties which is apparently
suitable, a conference is called, and the various advantages thereof
discussed. If mutually agreeable, further examinations cease, and
building operations are begun. In cultivated grounds, a decayed branch
of the apple or cherry is chosen for this purpose; but in more retired
situations, the maple, ash, elm or tulip-tree is given the preference.

In the Southern States, nest-building commences about the middle of
April; in the Middle Atlantic, seldom later than the fifteenth of May;
in New England, from the fifteenth of May to the tenth of June; and in
the extreme northerly portions of its habitat, about the fifteenth of
the latter month.

All things being in readiness, the male is the first to commence
operations. Stationing himself upon the spot which is to constitute the
doorway to his home, with claws imbedded in the wood to prevent from
falling, he digs the bark away in the form of a semi-circle. Then
reversing his position, he goes through the same difficult but trying
task, his little bill his only implement of execution, until he has
wrought a perfect circle. Continuing the labor, he delves away into the
soft or hardened interior, like a veritable Trojan, until an inch or
more of the wood has yielded to the blows of his small but powerful
chisel. Tired, at last, he resigns the work to his companion, and
settles himself upon a branch close-by to rest. Having recuperated his
exhausted energies, he starts off in quest of food, but to return in the
course of a half-hour to the relief of the female. Thus the work goes
on, day after day, with an industry and patience truly commendable,
until success crowns the undertaking.

The opening to the chamber is perfectly circular, and quite as accurate
as a skilful mechanic could make it with compasses. The cavity is first
directed downwards at an angle of forty degrees, for the space of five
inches, when it takes a perdendicular course for nearly ten inches
further, widening perceptibly at the bottom. Such is the capacity of
the latter that the sitting-bird is able to turn around therein with
considerable ease, but the external orifice is just large enough to
admit the bodies of herself and partner.

Few species are more careful to direct attention from the scene of their
labors than the subjects of our sketch. The chips produced during the
work of excavation are usually carried to some distance, so as to remove
all traces that might lead to detection. But howsoever clandestinely
they may act, and whatever precaution they may exercise, their home
does not always escape the keen eye of the experienced oologist, or the
sharpness and sagacity of the mischievous and insinuating little House
Wren--one of the most annoying enemies with which it has to contend.

Wilson gives an interesting account of the impudent coolness of this
bird, who coveting the neatly built home of this Woodpecker, and
powerless to construct such an apartment for herself, waits until
the Wookpeckers have finished their work, when she attacks them with
violence, and expels them from the nest which they have prepared with
so much pains. Another example is mentioned by the same distinguished
authority. In this instance, the Woodpeckers had commenced the work of
excavation in a cherry-tree, within a few yards of the house in which
he lived, and had made considerable progress, when they were assailed by
the Wrens, and compelled to withdraw. They then began a second nest in
a pear-tree, a few yards off' when after digging out a most complete
chamber, and laying one egg, they were once more attacked by the same
impertinent intruder, and finally forced to desert the place.

Having constructed their home, which is usually the work of a week,
the female, after a day of recreation and rest, begins the labor of
oviposition.

This continues for four or six days, the time being regulated by the
number of eggs which is to constitute a setting, but a single egg being
deposited daily. Incubation now follows, and is the exclusive task of
the female for nearly twelve days. The male, although he takes no
direct part in this business, is an important factor in the successful
accomplishment of the undertaking, as he, like an affectionate and
dutiful husband, supplies her with the necessary food. When not thus
occupied, he may be seen foraging the fields and woods, or perched upon
a twig in the calm enjoyment of ease and sober thought, He is seldom to
be observed in the immediate vicinity of the nest, save when carrying
food to his mate, or in times of great calamity. It has been affirmed by
Mr. Paine, of Randolph, Vermont, that the male occasionally constructs
a hole for himself close-by that of his mate, as he has taken males in
such apartments which were always unoccupied by eggs. He thinks that
they repair thither for shelter. Careful explorations for several years
have failed to show us that any such protection is practised in the
Middle States, nor do we find any record to substantiate this statement.

The young, when first hatched, are very helpless creatures, and require
the greatest care and attention from parental hands, so to speak.
Caterpillars, small moths, aphides and beetles constitute the bulk of
their fare, from the time they leave the egg until they are four weeks
old, when they quit the nest, to be instructed in the ways of the
outside world. For a fortnight the young birds rove in company, but
finally separate, each bird leading the life of a recluse.

The eggs of this species are nearly spherical, of a crystalline
whiteness, and measure .82 of an inch in length, and .71 in width.
Specimens from Eastern Texas and Southern Michigan differ but little,
if any, from others obtainable in New England and the Middle sections of
our country. In the Plate the eggs are shown in position, the wood being
cut away over the bottom of the chamber, to produce this result. The egg
in front, as well as the birds upon the branch, are three-fourths of the
natural size. The remaining eggs are in part concealed, and do not
show so fully. In the southern and middle portions of the range of this
Woodpecker, two broods are annually raised, one in June, and the other
in August, but further north seldom more than one.


[Illustration: 096]




Plate X.--VIREOSYLVIA OLIVACEUS, Bonaparte.--Red-eyed Vireo.

|The Red-eyed Vireo is quite an abundant species throughout Eastern
North America, ranging from Florida in a northeasterly direction to Nova
Scotia, thence northwesterly to Lake Winnipeg and Washington Territory,
and westerly to Ogden, Utah. Accidental specimens have been procured in
Greenland and England, but never more than a single individual in each
locality.

Many of these birds winter in Florida, and as specimens have been met
with in Central America, Cuba, Trinidad, and on the Isthmus of Panama,
it is highly probable that many betake themselves thither when the
period of breeding is over in their northern homes.

Early in March the latter enter the United States, possibly by way of
Texas and Florida, and wend their movements northward, reaching the
Middle States late in April; the New England, about the middle of May;
and the extreme northwest, a fortnight later.

Like all of its peculiar and characteristic genus, this species affects
a fondness for forests, or the summits of tall trees, but seldom
ventures upon the ground. It is, however, not wholly sylvan. At times
it may be found around dwellings, or along the shaded streets of
rural towns, in quest of the various insects which contribute to its
sustenance.

As it gleans among the tree-tops, the simple, pleasing and musical notes
of the male may be heard at somewhat regular intervals. So unsuspicious
and familiar is he then, that passers-by may come and go, and their
presence be unheeded.

During the hot and sultry hours of noon when other songsters have ceased
their warblings and foraging, and have slunk to the refreshing shades
for comfort and security, our little friend continues to pour forth
in loud, sonorous notes his peculiar
_te-te-tu'eah-we-ah-tweah-tweah-tweet_. Being the earliest of our vernal
choristers, he is also the most constant and untiring, and continues
to sing throughout the entire season. Even when about to depart for the
smiling scenes of his southern home, he thrills the air of woodland and
valley with impassioned song.

His tender and pathetic utterances, which resemble the melodious notes
of the Robin, but lacking their volume and power, are produced with so
much apparent animation, judging from their sound, as to be in striking;
contrast to the seeming indifference or unconsciousness of the plain
little vocalist who, while regaling the listener, appears all the while
to be bent upon the procurement of his daily food, which he pursues with
great ardor. But with the female the case is different. Although quite
as active a feeder as the male, yet there is apparent none of that
bustle and noise which characterize his movements. Her chief concern
seems to be the satisfaction of hunger, and a studious avoidance of the
male.

But as the days multiply, and insect life becomes more common, which is
generally the case about two weeks after their arrival, less anxiety
is felt on account of food; consequently, more time is left for the
development and play of the social forces. The sexes now begin to
manifest less reserve and coolness, and instead of shunning each other,
as was their wont, are brought more and more into friendly intercourse.
A week or ten days later, and the way is paved for the assumption of
matrimonial relations. In this movement, the male takes the lead. The
female, somewhat coy, at first listens to the wooings of her suitor at a
wary distance, but as time progresses, soon learns to regard him in the
light of a lover, throws off her restraint, and confidently advances
to receive his caresses. And thus events follow each other in rapid
succession until a union is effected.

Having mated, the happy pair, with no more delay than is absolutely
necessary, start off together in search of a nesting-place. This is a
matter that is easily accomplished, as almost any forest-tree of small
or medium height, answers the purpose. In some situations, the beech,
maple, sassafras and common laurel are in special demand. Why this is
so, it is impossible to divine.

High woods, with an abundance of small trees, are generally chosen.
Here, the nests are not often placed higher than five or six feet above
the ground. Sometimes, though rarely, they are found swinging from a
pendent bough, more than fifty feet high. Nidification seldom occurs in
compactly-built cities. Never more than a single instance has ever been
observed by us. This happened in the summer of 1876.

A site being chosen, building at once commences. This occurs in the
Middle States between the twelfth of May and the fifteenth of June;
in New England, about the first of the latter month; in Texas and
Louisiana, somewhat earlier; and in Nova Scotia, a trifle later. At Fort
Resolution, at the Cumberland House, and at Fort Simpson, nests and eggs
have been taken, but we are left in ignorance as to the time.

The construction of a home is the result of the united labors of both
birds, each collecting and adjusting its own materials. The time devoted
thereto varies from six to seven days, and is regulated by the industry
of the builders and the _condition_ of the weather. For this purpose
a bifurcated branch is first chosen. To this is attached, by means of
cobwebs, strips of bark, threads of moss, and the silk of caterpillars,
a delicate framework. This is mainly composed of bark, decayed
pine-wood, vegetable fibres, etc., held together by silk, and, possibly,
in a slight degree, by a gummy secretion supplied by the builders.
This structure is long, tenuous, open and narrow, presents a somewhat
collapsed appearance, and resembles, though remotely, the perfect
fabric. But it lacks shape and symmetry. To give it these essentials,
the birds construct an inner nest out of bits of paper, fragments of
hornets' nests, and strips of oak bark, which are so arranged as to
protrude through the interstices of the outer. It is now the duty of the
female, by a few bodily evolutions, to reduce the whole to form. This
accomplished, the labor of building is resumed, and a cozy lining,
composed of narrow strips of the inner bark of the wild grape-vine,
is added. Often white and black horse-hairs take the place of these
articles. That this species builds after the fashion described, is
proved by actual observation, and also by the finding of abandoned nests
which showed the outer, but not the inner arrangement.

The nest represented in the Plate came from Atlantic Co., N. J. It was
built between a forked branch of the common laurel. Externally, it is
composed of decayed wood, inner bark of plants, silk of caterpillars,
fragments of hornets' nests, cocoons of spiders, etc. Internally, there
is a thick lining of the inner bark of the wild grape-vine. The external
diameter is three and a half inches; internal, two and a half inches;
outside depth, two and a quarter, and inside, one and three-fourths
inches. A comparison with specimens from Texas, Michigan, Pennsylvania
and Massachusetts, shows marked similarities in structure and details of
composition.

In the collection of the Smithsonian Institution there is to be seen a
nest which was obtained by Mr. Kennicott at the Cumberland House, on
the Saskatchewan River. It is pensile, like all others, but is almost
exclusively built of pine-needles--a dry and hard material, difficult
of management in the construction of such a domicile. With these are
intermingled flax-like vegetable fibres, fine strips of bark, and
fragments of moss. Within is placed an inner nest composed of strips of
bark, pine leaves and fine, dry grasses. The external fabric is rather
loosely put together--an unusual feature--but the inner portion, in
the compactness and strength with which it was made, is in striking
contrast.

After the nest is finished, the female, on the ensuing day, and
occasionally not until the expiration of the third or fourth, commences
to lay her eggs, at the rate of one daily, until the entire complement
of three or four has been laid. Incubation follows closely, usually on
the day succeeding the last deposit, and continues for nearly eleven
days. This is not the exclusive task of the female, as the male
sometimes assists her. When the latter is not thus occupied, it is
seldom that he may be found in the vicinity, being absent either
designedly, or in search of food. Should the nest be approached at this
time, the female sits close, and seems to manifest neither timidity nor
alarm. We have often surprised her on the nest, and reached out our
hand to take her, when she would watch our actions very narrowly, as if
seeking to study our motives, but remaining perfectly motionless all the
while. A nearer approach was invariably followed by her sudden departure
therefrom. The bird would not wholly desert the nest, but demurely
station herself upon an adjoining twig, in order to watch our actions.
But with the male it is quite different.

Any attempt at disturbance or pillage is resented with spirit and
courage, especially when the nest contains young birds.

The home of this Vireo is often chosen by the Cowbird as a place of
deposit for her eggs. So singularly devoted to their alien guests do
these foster-parents become, that they nurture them very tenderly, even
to the neglect of their own offspring. A case is mentioned where three
of these parasitic eggs had been deposited in the nest of the Vireo
before any of her own. Without laying any, the female Vireo proceeded
to set upon and hatch the intruders. Another case is cited where two
Cowbird's eggs were laid alongside of two of the Vireo's. The latter
immediately stopped laying and proceeded to incubate. In each of these
cases it is evident that the female Vireo forewent her own maternal
instincts, and at once conformed to the new situation.

The young are objects of special parental interest. From the time
they are hatched, until the period of their leaving the nest to earn a
livelihood, they are watched over, and fed with the daintiest fare which
Nature affords. Caterpillars, diptera, plant-lice, small spiders and
berries, constitute their earliest diet; but as they increase in size
and strength, other articles of a coarser nature are added. At the age
of twelve days they vacate the nest, but continue under the watchful
eyes of their parents a week longer, when they are able to forage for
themselves.

The anxieties of brood-raising being over, both young and old, the
former in imitation of their parents, seek the tall tree-tops and glean
in company. Later, they come down from these lofty retreats to delve
among the grasses. Finally, as if disdaining too near an approach
to earth, they quickly forsake such groveling pursuits, and seek the
viburnum and dogwood bushes, where they find many a rich repast. Here
they remain until the last of September, or the beginning of October,
when cold weather and scarcity of food compel them to hunt warmer
climes.

The eggs of this Vireo vary considerably in size, according to locality;
the further south the smaller they are found. Specimens from Northern
Alabama have an average measurement of .77 of an inch by .52; from Nova
Scotia, .94 by .65; from Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, intermediate
localities, .82 by .56, and .83 by 62. The ground-color of all is a
clear crystal-white, and they are marked with spots and fine dots of
red-brown, which are chiefly found at the larger extremity. But a single
brood is raised, although nests with eggs have been taken early in July,
which must be attributed to birds whom accident or design had prevented
from obeying their natural instincts earlier.


[Illustration: 104]




Plate XI.--TRINGOIDES MACULARIUS, Gray.--Spotted Sandpiper.

|The Spotted Sandpiper has an extended and varied distribution
throughout North America. Unlike most of its allies, it breeds with
equal readiness wherever found, and is one of the best known and most
abundant of all its tribe.

From its winter-quarters in the Southern States, and also in the West
Indies and Central and South America, to Brazil, it takes up the line
of migration about the tenth of April, and gradually spreads itself over
nearly the whole country as far north as Labrador and Fort Yukon.

According to Mr. Trippe, it is the only species of its family that
resorts to the mountains of Colorado. Here, it arrives early in May, and
departs in September. All the larger streams, to an altitude of 8,000 or
9,000 feet, are visited, and, even, in some instances, the shores of the
lakes near the timber line.

On their first arrival, the banks of large rivers are frequented; but as
the season advances, many trace their way into the interior, along
the courses of our creeks and rivulets. Their sole object now is the
acquirement of food. For this purpose, a life of solitude is preferable
to any other. Although three or four individuals may frequently be
discovered together upon the same feeding-grounds, yet careful and
repeated observations have convinced us that this occurrence is merely
accidental, and not dictated by a desire for company. At such times, the
birds become so deeply absorbed in the business before them, that the
approach of human beings is unobserved, and the actors are only aroused
from the stolidity and indifference into which they have fallen, by
the crackling of a dead branch, or the dislodgment of a pebble from its
mooring. Conscious of impending danger, but never stopping to inquire
into the cause of the alarm, they seek safety in instant flight, and
repair to other scenes, at no great distance from the former, whore
they think to pursue their gastronomic occupation without fear of being
molested.

Such are the colors of this species, that the utmost harmony obtains
between them and the hues of surrounding objects. The keen eye of
the practised sportsman is often eluded thereby. Were it not for its
peculiar habit of wagging the tail, it would be a very difficult bird
to locate, especially when in a standing attitude; for whether thus
occupied, or running on the ground, or along the rails of a fence, or in
the water, this motion seems continual. Even the young, as soon as they
are released from the shell, are taught by instinct the same remarkable
movement.

Usually about the third week from the time of their first appearance,
but sometimes later, the sexes, grown corpulent from good feeding,
discard in a measure the "joys of the table," and seek each other's
society. From stilly bank of inland pond or stream, or where old Neptune
lashes in frenzied mood his solid flanks, their strange and simple call,
_peet-iveet, peet-weet_, may be heard in quick succession, louder,
and more distinct, than was their wont. Nor do the males alone indulge
therein; for the gentler sex oft join their lords in wanton rivalry.

Less whimsical than their aristocratic neighbors who affect the tall
tree-tops and shady bushes, the lady Sandpipers are more easily wooed
and won. Their ardent lovers have but to make their suits with due
obsequiousness, to receive the courted promises. A few more avowals of
love, and caresses, and the necessary reciprocations on the part of the
females, and the happy lovers having sealed their plighted pledges in a
bond of union, the respective parties journey off in search of suitable
places for establishing their homes. This event generally occurs about
the last of May, in some localities, but sometimes not earlier than
the second week of June, in others, and, perhaps, later in the extreme
northern limits of its habitat.

A period of three or four days being spent in examining the surrounding
country, the various parties soon settle upon localities. While some
prefer the borders of ponds and streams, or more retired and secluded
situations in the midst of forests, or a corn-field on elevated ground,
others, again, have a hankering for low, sandy islands, or marshes by
the sea-coast, or even the almost barren beach itself.

This part of the business being attended to, each female begins to
construct her nest. For this purpose she scratches a slight hollow in
the sandy earth, and proceeds to line it with a few pieces of straw,
or moss, or sea-weed, the nature of the materials depending upon the
_environment_. When the nest is placed in a corn-field, it is generally
built at the root of a hill of Indian corn, and is either lined with
straws, or mosses; when upon the seashore, various species of algae are
used.

Having finished her rather simple and hastily-constructed home, with as
little delay as possible the female commences to deposit her complement
of four eggs. This she does at the rate of one egg a day, in as many
consecutive days, taking due care to place them with the small ends
together in the middle of the nest.

The last egg deposited, the female, on the day thereafter, enters the
nest, and commences the duty of incubation. She is not necessarily a
very close sitter, especially when her nest is located in a sandy soil,
as the heated sand has doubtless much to do with the development of the
young. During inclement weather, protection is absolutely essential;
consequently, one bird or the other must occupy it, by turns, until the
necessity has passed.

While one is incubating, it does not appear that her partner is
compelled to play the part of a purveyor of food. Careful examinations
have never enabled us to detect the least evidence thereof. When either
party is tired, or is severely pressed by hunger, the other is summoned
to the spot, to receive the charge of affairs. Thus the business goes on
for eighteen weary days, when the happy parents are blessed with a jolly
little family.

The young are not the mere helpless creatures such as we have all along
been describing, but as active beings, for the age, as it is possible
to conceive of. Clad in silken robes of drab, with beautiful stripes
of black adown the back, they constitute a merry, rollicking group of
birdies. The world to them is a paradise of beauty, and a garden-spot
of pleasure. As soon as they leave the shell, they run with remarkable
speed, and otherwise exhibit a precocity which seems unnatural at that
period of life. Feeding, like running, is instinctive. It cannot be that
it is learned by imitation, any more than the exercise of the cursorial
powers can be said to be thus acquired.

Although much of the trouble and care which birds generally bestow upon
their offspring are thus saved to these fortunate parents, yet the
power to discriminate between bad and good food, has to be learned by
attention to the commands and actions of wiser heads. The young are not
slow to profit from parental suggestions and instruction, for we find
them, at the expiration of a fortnight, engaged in foraging with the
judgment and adroitness of adults.

Few species exhibit symptoms of greater distress than these Sandpipers
when their breeding-grounds are approached by human beings. The parents
resort to every conceivable stratagem in order to draw the intruders
away. Counterfeiting lameness, and fluttering along the ground with
seeming difficulty, are two of the most characteristic devices which
they practise for this purpose. But the appearance of a dog considerably
heightens the agitation. It is very interesting to watch the actions
of the female on such occasions. In order to lead him away from her
terrified young, she throws herself before him, flutters away in a
contrary direction, but always managing to keep out of the reach of
danger. This she continues for some time, until the animal has been
drawn to a considerable distance, when she throws off the garb of
dissimulation, and takes to flight, leaving her pursuer standing
stock-still and gazing with astonishment and disappointment at the
remarkable transformation which has just been effected. While all this
has been going on, the young have scurried away to places of shelter and
security, where they are afterwards joined by their beloved parent, glad
to have escaped so fearful a calamity, and grateful for such a happy
deliverance.

A more substantial proof of the affection of this female for its young
could hardly be imagined than that which Wilson gives on the authority
of Mr. William Bartram. The scene of action is described as being on the
river shore, and the occasion, the repeated attempts made by a ground
squirrel to capture two young birds which a parent was trying to
defend. In order to ward off the assaults of the squirrel, she had
thrown her two young behind her. At every attempt of the animal to
seize them by a circuitous sweep, she would raise her wings almost
perpendicularly, assume the most formidable expression of which she
was capable, rush forward upon the squirrel, who, intimidated by the
boldness of her manner, would beat a precipitate retreat. The enemy,
recovering from his defeat, would presently return, and renew the
attack, but to be ingloriously driven back as before. The young, as
though sensible of their perilous situation, would crowd together behind
their protector, and shift their position as she advanced or retreated.
This interesting scene continued for at least ten minutes, when
the strength of the poor parent was observed to flag. The squirrel
perceiving his advantage, became more daring, increased the frequency of
his assaults, and would have gained an easy victory had not Mr. Bartram
stepped forward from his hiding-place and drove him back to his hole,
and thus rescued the innocent.

The eggs of this species are usually abruptly pyriform, of a
yellowish-buff ground-color, and are marked with blotches and spots
of umber and sienna, which are collected chiefly about the greater
extremity, where they are sometimes confluent. Occasionally, some
specimens present a more elongated form, and others have the primary
color of a yellowish-drab tint, with the markings of a deeper shade.
The dimensions vary somewhat in a large collection from widely-separated
localities. The largest measure 1.41 by .99 of an inch, and the smallest
1.25 by .94. Considering the size of the bird, they seem to be out of
all proportion.


[Illustration: 112]




Plate XII.--SPIZELLA SOCIALIS, Bonaparte.--Chipping Sparrow.

|The Chipping Sparrow, so familiar to everybody, is not only one of
the most abundant, but also one of the most widely diffused of all our
species. It is found from the Atlantic to the Pacific in its two races,
and breeds from Georgia to Nova Scotia on our eastern seaboard, and
from Vera Cruz, Mexico, northward through Arizona, Utah and California.
Although obtained at different seasons of the year in all portions of
North America to Mexico, it is a strange and remarkable fact that its
breeding-grounds are not equally extensive.

Large numbers of these birds annually winter in the valley of the
Colorado, and thence doubtless spread themselves over the whole Pacific
region, as far north as Fort Resolution, on Great Slave Lake. In the
East they may be seen in companies of a hundred or more from October to
April through Northern Georgia and South Carolina, and possibly in the
Gulf States.

On the return of mild weather, which generally follows the vernal
equinox, these flocks forsake in a measure their winter homes, and
journey northward. Those from Northern Mexico pursue a northwesterly
course, reaching Arizona about the twenty-fourth of March, where a
part remain to breed; but the greater portion pass up the valley of the
Colorado, and after receiving fresh accessions to their number, continue
their migratory course until they have reached their destination. On the
other hand, our Eastern variety tarries longer in the South, and only
takes its departure when Nature, awakened from her winter sleep in our
Northern States, has begun to put on her charming robe of green. But
unlike its Western brother, it arrives in pairs, and never with the show
and pomp of a large army. The tardiness of vegetation, and the paucity
of insect life incident thereto, have doubtless much to do with the time
and manner of its coming. In the Middle States this event happens during
the last week of April, and in New England about the fifteenth, but the
birds do not seem to become very abundant in the latter section until
the beginning of May.

The Field and Song Sparrows, near relatives, are much earlier comers,
and are already in full song, making the groves and fields vocal with
praises, long before the Chippy has made his appearance. But when the
latter does arrive, we must look for his presence in our gardens and
orchards, rather than along the borders of thickets, where he commends
himself to our favor and esteem by his tameness and sociability. About
our doorsides he loves to glean his fare, and when an opportunity
offers, will often enter our houses during meal-times. So accustomed to
man does the species become, that individuals have been known to present
themselves regularly for food, as often as thrice a day, and even to
accept the same from human hands.

The male is so absorbed in feeding during the first ten days of his
stay that no attempt at singing is made. His only note then is a simple
_chip_, indicative of unrest. This is slowly uttered, and at somewhat
measured intervals. But later, he essays a song, and throughout the
month of roses, his unpretending ditty, which consists of a repetition
of the same sound, is kept up for hours together with scarce an
intermission. Though poor his reputation as a singer, yet individuals
have actually been known to sing, and very sweetly, too, but such cases
are wholly exceptional, _et lusus naturae_. Mr. Flagg, in speaking of
the male, says, "He seems to be the sentinel whom Nature has appointed
to watch for the first glimmerings of dawn, which he always faithfully
announces before any other bird is awake. Two or three strains from his
octave pipe are the signal for a general awaking of the birds, and
one by one they join the song, until the whole air resounds with an
harmonious medley of voices." Again, says the same happy writer, "His
continued trilling note is to the warbling band of morning musicians
which may be heard before sunrise during May and June like the octave
flute as heard in a grand concert of artificial instruments."

The singing of the males is the inauguration of a new era in bird-life.
The search for food no longer engrosses the attention as of yore,
but the all-absorbing passion of love. The sexes cease their solitary
wanderings. The females, moved by the touching appeals of the males,
leave their native haunts, and join their masculine companions. All is
now a scene of bustle and activity. The wooer and the wooed meet and
lavish upon each other the most endearing attentions. Happiness reigns
supreme. But the acme of felicity has not yet been reached. This is
brought about by degrees, and is only perfectly attained when conjugal
relationship is assumed.

In some parts of the country this important business is entered into as
early as the fifteenth of May, but in others it is necessarily deferred
until the succeeding month. The event is unattended by any peculiar
demonstrations of joy, and is mostly celebrated in a matter-of-fact,
businesslike way; the happy couple proceeding at once to an exploration
of the surrounding scenery for a suitable place in which to build a
home. This is a matter of little moment, as almost any small tree or
low bush is available for the purpose. The nest is never placed on the
ground, even in Arctic regions, where so many of our tree-builders
vary from this custom to nidificate on the ground. In the vicinity of
houses,' small trees, shrubbery and vines are utilized; but in pasture
grounds, and on the borders of small thickets, the common red-cedar is
chosen. Having selected a suitable site, both birds apply themselves to
the task of building for a period of four or five days, when a neat
and rather cosy structure is the result. Considerable variation is
discernible in the architecture of different individuals. Some nests are
rudely constructed, and rather loose and tenuous. Others have much of
periphery, but little of thickness and internal depth.

A typical nest is hemispherical, neatly but loosely built, and possesses
a cavity very symmetrical in contour. It is usually composed on the
outside, except in rare cases, of fine rootlets, and is lined with black
and white horse-hairs. In a beautiful domicile before us very few roots
are noticeable, the bulk of the fabric being composed of horse-hairs,
densely and compactly interwoven, and covered exteriorly with a few
fine twigs and lint. Other nests before us are built entirely of fine
rootlets. When such structures are found in bushes, and are well secured
and protected by enveloping leaves and twigs, a curious anomaly often
presents itself. A case of the kind came under our observation in
August, 1876. Since that time others have been met with. It is where the
nest, instead of occupying a nearly horizontal position, which is the
natural one, is placed at an angle of inclination, and bears in the
superior third a circular opening. What the object of this aperture can
be, it is impossible to say, as the bird could never be surprised while
on the nest. Possibly it was designed for the accommodation of the head
of the owner while the process of incubation was going on; or, it may
have been intended as a mode of ingress and egress, which opinion the
position of the nest and its surroundings would seem to warrant.

One of the most curious and exceptional nests which we have ever seen,
was obtained in the summer of 1870, in Northumberland Co., Pa. This
nest was built upon a small bush, at an elevation of two feet above the
ground. Externally, it is composed of dried plants, of an herbaceous
character, with seed vessels intact. Internally, there is a slight
lining of white horse-hairs. The diameter, on the outside, measures
nearly four inches, and the thickness three and a half inches. The
diameter of the cavity is three inches, and the depth nearly two. It
is a magnificent structure, closely and compactly woven, and exactly
hemispherical.

The drawing represents the usual style of nest. The position upon a
branch of the red-cedar is one that is frequently chosen. The outside is
mainly composed of fine roots of a reddish-brown color, and the inside
of an equal mixture of white and black horse-hairs. The dimensions are
as follows: External diameter, three inches; internal, two and a quarter
inches; depth inside, three-fourths, and outside, one and an eighth
inches.

The nest being finished, oviposition commences on the ensuing day, and
proceeds at the rate of one egg daily, until the entire number is laid.
This varies from three to five, even in the same locality. Incubation
commences on the day after the last deposit has been made, and continues
for a period of ten days. It is chiefly the duty of the female, although
the male occasionally lends his assistance by taking the nest. When
not thus occupied, he either polices the premises to guard against
intrusion, or is away in search of food. When with young both
birds become devoted parents, and evince the greatest anxiety and
consternation when their nest is disturbed.

Their actions at such times bespeak fear rather than courage. We have
never known them to assume the threatening attitude which characterizes
so many of our small species, nor seek to drive intruders away by sharp
scoldings and angry gesticulations. But knowing that resistance would
be useless, they quietly submit to circumstances, and repair to other
scenes where they think to be secure from molestation and harm in
carrying out the chief object of their being.

The young are fed at first on various larvæ, especially those of a
lepidopterous character. To these, earth-worms, aphides, beetles and
flies are added as condition and age require. When twelve days old
they are persuaded to leave the nest, and, under the direction of the
paternal sire, receive instruction in bird-lore. A period of eight or
nine days more, and they earn their own living. They do not forsake
their parents, however, but follow them into their old hunting-grounds,
and thus help to constitute the small flocks which are generally
observed in the fall of the year in our Eastern and Middle States,
previous to migration.

The eggs are oblong-oval in shape, and vary considerably in size. They
are of a bluish-green color, and are sparingly spotted with umber and
dark brown markings about the larger extremity. In some specimens,
the latter are grouped after the fashion of a wreath, but this is the
exception rather than the rule. The largest specimen we have ever seen
measures .80 by .57 of an inch; the smallest, .58 by .47. The average
measurement is .72 of an inch in length, and .54 in breadth. The species
as far as known is single-brooded.


[Illustration: 120]




Plate XIII.--PYRANGA RUBRA, Vieillot.--Scarlet Tanager.

|The Scarlet Taxager, a species but little known outside of the
ornithological world, is more generally distributed than the casual
observer is aware. According to various authorities, it ranges from
Texas to Maine, and from South Carolina in a northwesterly direction to
the southern limits of Lake Huron.

In the Eastern parts of Maine and Massachusetts it is but an occasional
migrant; while in the western counties of the latter State, it is
somewhat more plentiful, and nests in high, open woods and time-bewasted
orchards. But it is in the States of Pennsylvania, New Jersey and
Virginia, and throughout the great Valley of the Mississippi, that the
birds more especially abound and rear their young.

Few species are more susceptible to cold and sudden atmospheric changes
than the subject of our sketch. As a necessary consequence it is by no
means a very early comer. However fond it may be of the scenes of last
year's labors and pleasures, it does not forsake the genial climate and
perennial groves of its tropical American home, until balmy April has
yielded her crown and sceptre to the lovely goddess of May.

The male is usually the first to appear, the time of his arrival
antedating that of his sombre-colored, less-favored companion by three
or four days, although cases are cited where the sexes seemed to have
performed the journey together.

For some time subsequent to his advent, the male is shy and suspicious,
keeping away from the habitations of man, lest his brilliant suit
of scarlet and black should excite the envy of some cruel and
conscienceless collector, and he be summarily called upon, at the peril
of his life, to part therewith.

The female, on the contrary, less attractive in style and dress, has
fewer human admirers, and is permitted to roam _ad libitum_, and with
as much freedom and confidence as any of the little feathered creatures
that crowd about our doors.

But a change comes over the males after the lapse of a week or ten days.
They may now be seen along our thoroughfares, and in our fields and
gardens, acting with none of their former timidity, but endeavoring,
by their beautiful plumage, agreeable manners, sweet song and useful
service, to ingratiate themselves into the favor and esteem of their
human brethren.

Thus affairs continue for nearly a month, the sexes crossing and
recrossing each other's paths in their many journeyings, and so intent
upon the procurement of food, that the object of their mission is either
entirely lost sight of, or else is held in check, for the nonce, by some
strong impulse of their being.

Events, however, are ripening for a speedy fulfilment of the business
that has called them hither. The males exhibit less anxiety about
food-questions, and a positive distaste for the unsettled and lonely
lives which they have been leading. A similar feeling, but less
conspicuously manifested, pervades and animates the gentler sexes, if
outward actions afford proper criteria for judging of internal emotions.
But exceedingly more coy than their imperial lords, they keep at a
respectable distance, preferring to be wooed and won, rather than assume
any other _role_ in the drama.

The duty of taking the initiative step falls to the lot of the male.
In order to accomplish this purpose more effectively, perhaps, as he
thinks, he seeks the tall tree-tops, and for many a long and weary hour,
thrills the ambient air with his sweetest music. We have seen many
a venturesome fellow, seemingly unconscious of his surroundings, and
wholly absorbed in his voluntarily-imposed task, take his station upon a
lofty tree by the road-side, in full view of passers-by, and pour forth
his harmonious utterances with all the animation and pathos of his
being. Tired at last, he ceases his efforts, preens his feathers, and
is off to try his fortunes elsewhere. Thus he keeps up these movements,
with necessary intermissions of rest and recreation, during the livelong
day, until his song has arrested the attention of some impressible
female. This ditty, which is uttered in a low and pensive manner,
and which may be rather accurately represented by the syllables
_chi-chi-chi-char-ee-char-ee-chi_, has been likened to the well-known
notes of the Baltimore Oriole, but we are unable to trace the least
resemblance thereto.

His efforts being finally crowned with success, the happy lover is
profuse in his attentions and caresses, and leads his willing bride
to other scenes, where they spend a brief season of enjoyment, before
entering into preparations for establishing a home. As they move through
the branches and foliage together, they utter their affection in a low
whispering warble, and in tones of singular sweetness and tenderness.

Having celebrated their nuptials, they settle down to the duties of
nest-building in earnest. The selection of a site is the first thing
that commands attention. This is a matter of no little importance, and
one that requires the exercise of considerable judgment. Both birds
generally go together 011 this essential business, and carefully ransack
the fields and thickets until a location is obtained which is wholly
eligible. Nothing occurs in these examinations, if we are to judge from
the behavior of the participants therein, to give offence, or mar the
happiness of the wedded pair.

The places selected vary according to latitude and the fancy of the
builders. Orchards, and groves of chestnuts, oaks, and nut-trees are
frequented, and often a preference is manifested for swampy woods if
not too dense. In places contiguous to human habitations the builders,
especially the male, act with less carefulness than in more retired
localities. They are here more secure from the depredations of rapacious
birds, the latter having a decided aversion to man, their inveterate and
merciless foe.

Building operations are usually begun about the fifteenth of May in the
latitude of Philadelphia, towards the close of the month in New England,
but never later than the first or second week of June. In its southern
breeding-quarters, following the examples of its more distant relatives,
it doubtless nests earlier.

The nest is placed upon the horizontal branch of a fruit-tree, usually
on the edge of a wood, but occasionally in an orchard. Sometimes it is
built over a crotch, which constitutes a more stable position. When a
nest is located on the outskirts of a thicket, some species of oak, or
the tulip-tree, is generally selected as the recipient thereof. In an
orchard, the apple claims and receives this honor. Its height above the
ground is mostly from fifteen to twenty feet in sequestered situations,
but in cultivated districts, a much lower elevation is chosen.

The labor of building is performed mainly by the female, her partner
lending but little assistance. The time devoted to the task seldom
exceeds a period of four days, and so loosely are the fabrics put
together, in the majority of cases, that they scarcely survive the
season for which they were intended.

A structure before us is rather symmetrical and neatly built for the
species, and quite shallow. Externally, it is composed of dried twigs,
weeds and grasses, variously intermingled. Internally, there is a lining
of fine roots, grass-stems, and the inner bark of the chestnut and
oak. The outside diameter is five and a half inches, height two inches,
diameter of cavity three and a half inches, and depth about half an
inch.

Mr. Nuttall describes a nest examined by him as composed of rigid stalks
of weeds and slender fir-twigs joined together with narrow strips of
apocynum and pea-vine runners, and wound around with thin wiry stalks
of the helianthemum, the whole so loosely and thinly plaited as to admit
the light quite readily through the interstices.

The Plate represents the average structure. On examination it will be
found to be nearly circular above, although somewhat irregular towards
the lower two-thirds. The hase is rather loosely constructed of strips
of bark, fine stems of vegetables with dried flowers attached, and
rootlets of woody plants. Upon this as a basis is wrought, with more
compactness and finish, a framework, which is beautifully lined with
reddish-brown stems of herbaceous plants, and fine strips of inner bark.
The external diameter is five inches, and the height, two inches. The
diameter of the cavity is three inches, and the depth one-half of an
inch. This nest is shown in its natural position over and partly between
a forked branch of one of our common species of oak. The female bird is
placed upon the right, as though about to assume the duty of incubation;
while her illustrious partner occupies a very dignified position on the
left of the picture. All the figures, however, are reduced one-third, so
as to bring them within the scope of the page.

Having completed her home, the female almost immediately commences to
deposit her complement of four or five eggs, at the rate of one a day,
in as many consecutive days. This business being attended to, on the day
succeeding the last extrusion, she takes the nest, and for a period of
twelve or thirteen days of rather close sitting, supplies the warmth
necessary to develop her house-full of children.

It is a remarkable fact, and one that beautifully displays the wonderful
wisdom which is taught by Nature, that the brilliantly-colored males
studiously avoid the nest, and only approach it, when necessary, with
caution and stealth, for fear of betraying its presence; while the
females, with their plain coloring in harmony with the surrounding
foliage, sit thereon, and care for their helpless offspring without
danger of molestation. But if the nest is approached with hostile
intention, or is actually invaded, the males emerge from their places of
concealment, and assist in carrying its precious treasures away. But
how this is accomplished, it is impossible to say. Mr. Minot has known
instances where the young have been removed, although many of the cases
seemed to be beyond the ability of bird-ingenuity to accomplish.

On one occasion, while our worthy friend was ascending a tree which
contained a nest of this species, and that, too, with as much care and
quietness as was possible under the circumstances, he was surprised to
see the parent birds return several times to the tree upon his arrival
at a point which commanded full view of the inside of the domicile.
Although the nest was known to contain eggs, which were seen through
the interstices from below, his astonishment was undoubtedly heightened,
when he discovered it to be empty. He immediately began an examination
of the premises, but could find no pieces of broken shells, or traces
of yolk on branch, or on the ground beneath. The eggs had certainly
been spirited away, but whether they were afterwards returned and
successfully hatched or not, he was unable to say.

Notwithstanding the precaution which these birds take in the selection
of a building-spot, and the artfulness with which they seek to conceal
their home by means of the surrounding leaves, it is a fact, not
generally known, but nevertheless true, that much of their prudence and
painstaking counts for naught. They may deceive the trained collector,
but they cannot elude the sagacity and watchfulness of the female
Cowbird, who is ever on the alert and ready to slip into their
unoccupied nest and deposit her own egg.

We have known instances where as many as three of these parasitic eggs
had been left in the nest alongside of one of the rightful occupant's
eggs. A case of the kind came to notice last summer. But whether the
owners of the nest would have hatched the intruders or not, we cannot
say, as its contents were rifled shortly after the discovery had been
made. Owing to its shallowness, it is highly probable that the owners
would have thrown them out on becoming cognizant of their presence. With
small birds, and also with those which are in the habit of building deep
nests, there is considerable difficulty attending such an attempt. The
birds are generally obliged to submit to circumstances, and hatch the
aliens.

The food of the young is chiefly collected by the mother-bird, and
consists of the larvæ of beetles, various species of lepidoptera with
mature forms of the same, spiders, plant-lice, diptera and earthworms.
These are fed to them for the space of a fortnight subsequent to their
leaving the eggs, when they quit for the first time the close precincts
of their shallow home, to receive their earliest impressions of the
outside world, or to take some lessons in the secrets of bird-lore.
Another week more, and they are thrown upon the cold and pitiless world
to fight their way as others have done before.

The devotion of the parent to her young is shown not only in the
assiduity with which she labors to supply them with the essential
articles of diet, but also in the distress which she manifests when they
are in perilous situations, and in her efforts to extricate them from
the same.

Wilson relates a very touching instance of such devotion. Having taken a
very young bird from the nest, he carried it to his friend, Mr. Bartram.
The latter gentleman placed it in a cage, which he suspended near a nest
containing young Orioles, in hopes that the parents of these birds
would be moved to feed it. This they failed to do. Its cries, however,
attracted its own parent, who diligently attended it, and supplied it
with food for several days. At length she became so solicitous for its
liberation, as evidenced by repeated cries of entreaty, that Mr. Bartram
could bear it no longer. He immediately mounted to the cage, took out
the captive, and restored it to its parents, who accompanied it to the
woods with notes of great exultation.

Early in August the male begins to moult, when, after a little, he
appears in the greenish livery of the female. In this stage he is
not distinguishable from her or his young family. Now is the time for
departure, and parents and young forsake with many regrets the land
where they have experienced so much real happiness, for the sunny groves
of Mexico and Peru, or the breezy forests of their West Indian home.

The eggs of this species vary from an inch to .90 in length, and have an
average width of .65. The ground-color passes from a well-marked shade of
greenish-blue to a dull white with scarcely the faintest tinge of
blue. In some the spots differ in size, are more or less confluent, and
chiefly of a reddish-brown color intermingled with a few others of an
obscure purple. As a rule, there is a notable resemblance to each other,
in the eggs of the same nest-complement, except where, by reason of
pillage, or some adventitious circumstance, the female is called upon to
deposit, after she has already furnished the necessary number, in order
to compensate for those that have been taken or destroyed. It may be the
earliest-laid eggs that have escaped the avaricious oologist. In that
event, the additional ones must necessarily be lighter in colors, and
contrast very strongly with those which remain. Locality has doubtless
much to do with color-variations, southern specimens being more sharply
defined than those from colder latitudes.


[Illustration: 130]




Plate XIV.--HIRUNDO HORREORUM, Barton.--Barn Swallow.

|The Barn Swallow, the chief of its fellows, is the most widely
diffused, most generally abundant, and, wherever found, the best known
of all our species. None are more universally or deservedly popular.

It ranges throughout North America from Florida to Greenland, and from
the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, breeding, strange to say, over nearly
the whole of this vast territory.

Such is its attachment to last year's scenes and associations, that it
leaves its far-off home in the sunny South rather early, gathering its
forces from the plains of Brazil, the spicy isles of the Indies, and the
lofty plateau of Mexico, and wends its graceful flight northward.

Unlike many of its kin, this familiar little species does not wait until
the soft mild days of May have visited the earth, but, actuated by an
overmastering instinct to revisit the land of its nativity, it comes ere
the dying throes of the winter-demon have ceased to be heard in the wild
March winds.

But the more genial fields and streams of our Southern border-states
first invite its presence, and offer it an abiding-place, until its
more northern habitats are made to rejoice under the influence of
the sun-god. In the Central section of this great land of ours, this
generally occurs during the early days of balmy April, when spring may
be said to commence in earnest.

Hundreds of these agile creatures, carried away by the exuberance of
their feelings, may now be seen either disporting themselves in the
atmosphere, or more profitably engaged in pursuing their multifarious
prey on swift and noiseless wings.

While some remain in these parts to breed, others retire further north,
and take up their quarters in old accustomed haunts; reaching New
York and Southern New England towards the close of April, and the
more northern portions of the latter section about the first of May.
Continuing their migration, a few, according to Sir John Richardson,
pass on until they have attained the latitude of 67° 31', where they
stop to breed. This doubtless occurs about the last of May, or the
beginning of June, if the fact of their nesting at Fort Chippewayan, ten
degrees further south, on the fifteenth of May, affords any basis for
computation.

On the Pacific coast these birds are less abundant than 011 our Eastern
shores. This is attributable to the lack or scarcity of suitable
building-places. As settlements multiply, they increase in numbers,
especially in the neighborhood of farms. Farther inland, the species is
conspicuous for its rarity.

From the time of its arrival until its departure about the first of
September, and even during the breeding-period, this Swallow delights
in society. When foraging for food, it is not unusual to see varying
numbers of birds engaged in the same useful occupation. This habit of
gregariousness, which evinces a love for the companionship of its kind,
instead of dying out, as is generally the case with many species that
might be cited, continues to exist, and manifests itself during the
time of nesting by a desire to dwell in communities. But this is not
everywhere the case.

In some parts of the country, particularly in the extreme north, the
sexes appear to come together only upon arrival at their places of
destination. Mating commences either while the birds are in transit, or
immediately upon the conclusion thereof; and as nesting commences when
they have reached the end of their journey, it is reasonable to conclude
that the two follow each other in close succession, leaving no time for
the display of those curious antics so characteristic of the feathered
creatures.

But in lower latitudes, the first two or three weeks after the arrival
of these birds, is spent in the procurement of food. The good which is
then accomplished, cannot be fully appreciated, and is of such immense
value as to gain for the species the high position which it occupies in
the affections of mankind.

During the whole of this time, we have seen nothing that would appear to
indicate that courtship is indulged in. Perhaps this necessary business
of bird-life is practised in mid-air, while the sexes are skimming
through the swaying fluid, or circling in joyous company high overhead.
May not the pleasing, lively succession of twitterings which drop
earthward, when these lovely creatures are careering towards the dome of
heaven, he the love-songs which the males are pouring into the ears of
listening females? To be fully appreciated, they should be heard during
these exciting aerial movements. When perching, the birds seem
less animated; consequently, the music is slower, but none the less
agreeable.

Whether this business is in vogue or not among these birds, matters
little, so long as the important duty which has brought them hither is
accomplished. That this is the case, is indisputable, as the sexes are
known to separate from the flocks, and repair to accustomed haunts to
build.

The period of nesting varies somewhat according to latitude and the
conditions of the weather. In the West, nests have been found with eggs
as early as the thirtieth of April, but this was in the vicinity of San
Francisco. In semi-tropical regions, it is reasonable to look for an
early assumption of matrimonial relations. But in the generality of
instances, outside of our warm Southern latitudes, the birds commence
to build their domiciles from the fifteenth to the last of May, and, in
some cases, even running into the first week of the month that follows.

In the construction of a home, which is usually the work of six days,
the builders apply themselves with persevering assiduity, only stopping
from their labors, for brief spells of time, in order to rest, or to
procure the essential articles of food.

The places selected for this purpose are strange and various. In the
wild districts of the West, the birds nidificate in caves that abound in
the bluffs along the sea-shore. Near Fort Dallas, Oregon, the basaltic
cliffs so common thereabouts are utilized. In the vicinity of Pyramid
Lake, Nevada, their nests are placed among the "tufa domes" attached
to the roofs of caves, seldom more than one or two pairs being found
together. In other localities, in the same section of country, limestone
cliffs, crevices of rocks, and sides of wooden bridges, serve the same
purposes.

Coming East, where they are much more familiar and confiding, we find
quite a change in this particular. Venturing into our crowded cities,
they often build their elaborate homes in the porches of dwellings.
But the various farm-buildings, which are noticeable in agricultural
regions, are generally to be preferred. In such places, the nests are
erected on horizontal rafters, or secured to the frameworks, underneath
the eaves, after the fashion of the Cliff Swallow's nest. Again, bridges
and dilapidated spring-houses are occasionally pressed into service.
Besides the foregoing, cases have been cited where the nest of the Cliff
Swallow was used, and also one where a small building, of very rude
structure--which was temporarily occupied as a blacksmith-shop--was
utilized.

Their natural breeding-places, before the settlement of this country,
were caves, overhanging cliffs, and like situations. Swallow Cave, at
Nahant, was formerly a favorite place of resort. As the country becomes.
settled, these places are forsaken for the more convenient ones which
the buildings of the farm afford. Such accommodations, experience has
shown, tend to a rapid increase in their numbers, for the birds are not
slow to perceive the advantages which result from a close familiarity
with man.

The nests are constructed of separate layers of mud, from ten to twelve
in number, which are often, though not always, parted by strata of fine
grasses. The layers themselves are formed of small pellets composed of
clay and fine sand, worked over by the birds, and which are adjusted
side by side until each layer is complete. The walls being finished,
the circumscribed cavity is stuffed with fine soft grass, and is warmly
lined with downy feathers. The average height and breadth of such
structures when placed on the horizontal rafters of barns is about five
inches. The cavity is usually three inches wide at the rim--thus making
the thickness of the walls an inch--and about two inches in depth. When
placed against the side of a house or of a barn, a strong foundation of
mud is usually built, upon which the nest is reared. In that event, the
nest is more compactly made, and varies from the preceding, by its more
elongate form.

A striking peculiarity of many of these fabrics, is an additional
platform which is placed against the nest proper, but wholly distinct
therefrom. This is undoubtedly designed as a roosting-place, and is used
during the incubating period by the one or the other parent at night, or
when not occupied in the procurement of food, or by both when the young
have complete possession thereof.

A nest before us which was built upon a horizontal rafter underneath
an overshoot, and which may be regarded as typical in the ordinary
scientific sense, is composed externally of ten semi-elliptical series
of mud pellets, slightly overlapping each other after the manner of
tiles, and intercalated with the stems and blades of fine grasses.
Similar vegetable materials are found in small quantities on the
outside, which serve to strengthen the pellets, thus acting as
substantial girders to the entire structure. On the inside is a small
layer of the stems of our common timothy grass, which is followed by
another of greater compactness, and, finally, by a lining of soft meadow
grass. The entire length of this nest is four inches, and it gradually
tapers from above downwards, giving the appearance of a longitudinal
section of an inverted cone. The depression is two and a half inches
wide in one direction, about four in the line of greatest width, and
scarcely an inch in depth, the shallowness being compensated for by the
greater length transversally.

The Plate represents a nest which is nearly the exact counterpart of
the one just described, differing immaterially therefrom in the lack of
grasses between the layers of mud on the outside, and in having a lining
of feathers. The dimensions are about the same in the original, but have
been somewhat reduced in the cut, owing to the size of the page. The
female is shown upon the edge of the nest, peering therein, while her
stronger half is on the wing, and evidently homeward-bound. In the
natural position this elaborate structure was completely protected by
the eaves of the building against which it reposed, but in order to show
the inner arrangement, as well as the eggs _in situ_, the artist was
compelled to leave it partially exposed.

The nest being completed, two or three days elapse before the female is
ready to deposit her first egg. Having commenced, she continues to do
so, at the rate of one a day, until her full number is laid, which,
according to what shall constitute her complement, requires from four
to six days. Incubation immediately succeeds, and lasts for eleven
days. This is not exclusively the work of the female. Sometimes
her affectionate husband relieves her for awhile. But when not thus
employed, he occupies his spare moments either in fetching her some
dainty article of meat, or in guarding his home from intrusion.
Few species show less dread of man during these times. Such is the
confidence which is reposed in him, that the sitting-bird will keep to
the nest, and allow him to pass within a few feet of her. But, on the
other hand, if any interference is attempted, she glides noiselessly
out, and watches and contemplates his movements with few, if any,
murmurs of complaint.

An interesting account is given of these birds by Mr. J. K. Lord. While
he and his party were encamped at Schyakwateen, in British Columbia,
a small shanty, loosely constructed of poles, and tightly roofed, was
erected, and used as a blacksmith's shop. Early one morning, late in
June, they were visited by a pair of Swallows, who instantly perched
on the roof of this shed, unmindful of the noise of the bellows, or the
showers of sparks that flew around. Presently they entered the house,
and commenced an examination of the roof and its supporting poles,
twittering to each other the while, in the most animated manner. At
length the matter appeared to be settled, and on the ensuing day they
commenced the erection of a building on one of the poles directly
over the anvil. Though the hammer was constantly passing close to the
structure, yet the fearless builders kept steadily at work, and in about
three days had completed the rough outline thereof. A few days more, and
their home was ready for occupancy. The narrator often stationed himself
upon a log to watch them, with his face so near, that their feathers
frequently brushed against it as they toiled at their task. Suffice it
to say, the eggs were laid, the young hatched and successfully reared,
and the trustful pair maintained their serenity and fearlessness till
the last.

The attentions of the parents to their young are unremitting. The number
of small insects which they collect for them is almost incredible.
Flies, aquatic larvæ, and small moths form a considerable part of their
earliest diet. But as they become older, other insects are added to
their bill of fare. When about fourteen days old they are able to leave
the nest. The manouvres of the parents to entice them out, and the
assistance which they render them in their first feeble attempts
at flight, are among the most curious and interesting of all our
ornithological experiences. A few days' training gives them complete
control over their alar appendages, and they are soon as merry and happy
as any of their older companions, as they sail through the air in quest
of insects, or in the pursuit of pleasure. By the first of September,
they are strong enough to endure the fatigue incident to the long
journey which they are called upon to make, in obedience to the supreme
law of their being, at this season of the year.

The eggs of this species are white with a roseate tinge in unblown
specimens, and are marked with spots of reddish and purplish brown,
varying in size and number, but chiefly collected about the larger end.
From the Cliff Swallow's eggs, they differ in having finer spots, and
in being smaller and rather more elongated. Specimens from different
localities, and even in this region, show marked variations in length,
some being .95 of an inch, and others; not more than .74. The same bolds
good with respect to the width; the greatest being .63 of an inch, and
the least .50. The average dimensions are .77 by .55 of an inch. The number
of broods generally raised is two, the latter often as late as the
last of July, or the beginning of August. This is not always the case,
especially when the season has been unusually delayed by means of the
weather, or when the natural instinct has been unaccountably restrained.


[Illustration: 140]




Plate XV.--LOPHORTYX CALIFORNICA, Bonaparte.--The Valley Quail of
California.

The Valley Quail--so called in contradistinction to the Plumed or
Mountain Quail, which inhabits hills and highlands--has an exceedingly
limited range. It abounds in all the valleys of California and Oregon,
both inland and maritime, but never in the forest-depths, nor on the
mountain-tops, nor in the interior basin where there is a dearth of
water and vegetation. In the spring of 1857 these birds were introduced
into Washington Territory, on the grassy plains near Puget Sound, where
they soon established themselves.

According to Dr. Cones, who has paid special attention to the
distribution of our birds, the present species ranges from the Columbia
River to Cape St. Lucas. In California it is chiefly restricted to
the country west of the Sierra Nevada, which, with the Great Colorado
Desert, is said to constitute an apparently impassable barrier between
it and Gambel's Partridge--a very near relative. Up the mountains a
higher elevation than three or four thousand feet is never known to be
attained, the region beyond being occupied by the Mountain Quail.

Prairies and grain-fields, and thickets along the borders of streams,
are noted places of resort. Coveys of from a dozen to a hundred or more
individuals may be seen in such places, during the non-breeding season,
busily employed in gleaning, or in some sort of diversion. Although
comparatively tame, and permitting a very near approach, yet when
disturbed, they betake themselves to the bushes or trees. When to the
latter, they squat so closely along the branches, as to escape the keen
sight of pursuers. It will not lie to a dog, as our Eastern species is
wont to do, but runs until driven to seek safety in flight.

Throughout California these birds are often domesticated, and made to
consort with the common barnyard fowl. A similar practice might be tried
in the East with happy results. That it would succeed, there can be no
reasonable doubt. A few years ago, an attempt was made to introduce them
into Long Island, which was only partially successful. But the demands
of New York epicures soon led to their extermination.

The season of flocking being over, which continues from the first of
September until about the middle of May, as nearly as we can ascertain,
the coveys break up into pairs, and mating is about to commence.
This important event is heralded by certain peculiar cries which the
male-birds emit while sitting upon a stump or prostrate log in the midst
of the surrounding verdure. These notes are very strange, and may be
likened to the harsh and disagreeable tones of some of the Woodpeckers.
"They may be aptly represented," says Dr. Newberry, "by the syllables
_kûck-kuck-kûck-kâ_, the first three notes being rapidly repeated, the
last prolonged with a falling inflection."

Language can hardly describe the actions of the males during these
times. While some may be seen strutting along some fallen log, or
gesticulating overhead on the motionless tree-branches, others, less
lofty in their aspirations, move with dignified demeanor in and out the
bushes, untrammeled by interlacing grasses. All, however, seem animated
by one common impulse--the admiration and favor of birds less beautiful,
perhaps, but more modest, than themselves.

It is a charming sight, and one ever to be remembered, to watch these
enamored birds as they press their several suits. The stately tread,
erect but comely carriage, waving plumes, quivering wings, and flashing
eyes, bespeak the proud consciousness of superior worth and vigor. The
beautiful bird glances defiantly about him, and challenges loudly for a
rival. Again, he throws down the gauntlet, but none appears to take it
up. He may now retire; his rights are proven.

But hid away in leafy bower, a gentler being watches his movements,
admires his bearing, and fascinated by the courage she sees displayed,
hopes that the next movement may bring him to her side, but dreading
lest it may. At length their eyes meet, she trembles and attempts to
fly, but cannot. Another look; he reads the secret of her heart, and
with one loud, exultant cry, flies straight to her, curtsies low, and
with wing half-spread above her, whispers softly in her ear the story of
his love. She listens, but draws away. He pleads once more. She stands
irresolute. Again he makes the attempt. This time with all the eloquence
of his being. He conquers, and what a joy is his!

The trial over, the prize secured, the delighted lover, proud of his
bride, showers upon her the rich fruitage of his love, guards her
with jealous care, and seeks by every means in his power to add to her
comfort and happiness. A few days thus spent, and the wedded couple,
conscious of the sense of responsibility which attaches to them, cast
about for a suitable spot for a home. They search through the tall, rank
herbage, among piles of driftwood that lie scattered about, under fallen
cacti, or in the shadow of jasmine bushes, and at length make up their
minds. Where none of these are to be found, they do not hesitate to take
to an open field. Little more is needed than to fix upon a spot, for the
nest is far from an elaborate affair, being aught else than a collection
of loose, dry grasses arranged without much care. In many instances,
even these articles are dispensed with. The Plate represents the
ordinary style of nest, containing a set of thirteen eggs drawn to the
natural size. On the left of the picture may be seen the male, which
differs from the female in his more brilliant and vivid colors, both
being placed in the background.

Having finished her simple domicile, or rather having chosen a spot,
for laying--for in the generality of cases no nest whatever is made--the
female deposits day after day the eggs which are to constitute her
complement. These are said to be from twelve to sixteen in number. When
not pressed to lay, she rambles about with her lord, in close company,
until compelled to take the nest. She now abandons all recreation,
becomes sober and maternal, and sets about her duty in earnest. But
she is not forgotten because she cannot enter into his idle amusements.
Mounted upon some bush or log which projects above the nest, he stands
watch, or solaces her weary moments with his best music. This ditty,
though far from being harmonious, is presumably satisfactory to the one
concerned. The time spent in incubation lasts for two weeks or more,
until feeble cries are heard from the nest. The mother-bird now dries
and cuddles the queer little beings, and the happy parents soon lead
them off in quest of food. When the young are disturbed by human foes,
the male-bird utters a sharp _pit_, resembling the common note of the
Cardinal Grosbeak, which is doubtless the signal for flight.

The eggs of this Quail differ somewhat in size, and also in
ornamentation. The ground-color is usually a creamy-white. The markings
sometimes occur in the form of freckles, at other times in large
scattered spots, and frequently in the form of confluent blotches.
Their colors pass from a uniform shading of olivaceous-drab, through a
rusty-drab, into a chestnut-brown. All the specimens that we have seen
are sharply defined at one extremity and rounded at the other. In a set
of fourteen eggs before us, the largest measures 1.32 by 1.00 inches;
the smallest 1.13 in length and .97 in breadth. The average size is 1.23
by .98 inches. From the number of eggs sometimes found in a nest, it
becomes a question whether birds, severely pressed, may not sometimes
lay in nests not their own. We have no positive information that this
does happen, but observation renders it highly probable that such is
the case with the Virginia Quail, and, also, with some other birds.
But however this may be, it is tolerably certain that broods of young
sometimes coalesce after hatching. It has even been inferred that
several females belong to one male, and with their varying broods run
together.


[Illustration: 146]




Plate XVI.--REGULUS SATRAPA, Licht.--Golden-crowned Kinglet.

The Golden-crowned Kinglet, or Wren, ranges over nearly the entire
continent of North America, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, and
northward from Texas and New Mexico to Sitka on the west, where it seems
to replace the Ruby-crown. On our eastern seaboard it doubtless attains
as high a latitude. Audubon claims to having found it nesting in
Newfoundland, and Baedecker, in Labrador, but recent travelers have
certainly not encountered its presence during the breeding-period in
those parts, since they have left no record of such occurrence.

In the United States, until recently, it was generally supposed to be
a migrant; arriving pretty punctually in October, just as autumn is
merging into winter, and remaining till May. But the past five or
six years have let in new light upon its history, and shown, what had
already been surmised, that it would be found to breed in the coniferous
forests, and mountainous regions toward our northern border.

Our knowledge of the species is limited, and is mainly restricted to its
habits during its long stay with us from October to May. Every one who
has left the shadow of home, and strayed out into the fields and woods,
or along the margins of ice-bound streams and ponds, must have had
his attention directed to its cries as it flitted from tree to tree
in search of food. At such times, the sexes remain apart, or but
occasionally come together. Although shunning, rather than courting
each other's society, their casual meeting is not the harbinger of
contention, but is either tacitly acknowledged, or passed by unnoticed.
While there seems to be an indisposition to mingle, yet evidence is not
wanting to show that society of some kind is not wholly disagreeable.
Either sex manifests, or seems to manifest, some regard for the
Black-capped Titmouse. Wherever you discover the one, you are
pretty sure to find the other. This occurrence does not appear to be
accidental, but rather to be dictated by a desire for company, or by
actual necessity.

Although evincing a decided partiality for Nature in her wildness, on
warm, sunshiny days in mid-winter our little friend may frequently
be seen climbing about our trees after the fashion of a Creeper, or
standing beside our doors in anxious expectation of receiving his
share of crumbs from the table. He is now the very impersonation
of fearlessness, and conducts himself with all the familiarity of a
long-tried friend.

But as spring returns, a peculiar cry greets the ear, louder and more
frequent than usual. _Tsi-tsi-tsi_ comes from wood and glen, from stream
and hollow. Once heard, these syllables can never be forgotten, for
they are uttered in a running, pleasing rhythm, and with a gently-rising
intonation, and seem indicative of joy and satisfaction. But as the
season for departure arrives, these sounds give place to others of a
more agreeable character. Even in the heart of winter this music may be
heard. Perhaps some precious reminiscence of the past has arisen in the
memory to evoke this flood of song.

Full of expectancy and unrest, about the middle of May--often earlier,
seldom later--the little Golden-crown wings its flight to other scenes.
Of the exact time, we know nothing. It does not stop to bid us an
affectionate adieu, but is gone before we are hardly aware of the blank
which it has left. Its return is as unheralded and mysterious. To-day
we admire its graceful actions, sprightly ditty and beautiful plumage.
To-morrow we search the old haunts, feeling almost confident that it
must be lurking somewhere about, but to be doomed to disappointment.
Occasionally our patience is rewarded by finding a couple of
individuals, who have either lost their reckoning, or have made up their
minds to spend the summer at home. But the most of their fellows still
follow the path which their ancestors have so long trodden.

While some follow the stretch of country between our two great western
mountain systems, and breed in Washington Territory and the country to
the northward, others forsake their winter-quarters, and travel in a
northeasterly direction to the shores of Newfoundland and Labrador. A
few, however, lag behind and find suitable summer resorts in the pine
forests and Thuja swamps of New Hampshire and Maine. When our mountain
regions and dense forests are better known, we hazard the opinion
that many will be found to breed nearer home than we are aware. Paired
individuals have often been met with along the hills of the Wissahickon,
in Pennsylvania, during the breeding-season, which evidently had nests,
but diligent search failed to reveal the fact.

Before the discovery of the nest of this species, the presumption was
that it built a pensile nest, not unlike the European congener, and that
it laid small eggs faintly sprinkled with buff-colored dots on a white
background, but differing little in size from those of the common
Humming-bird. It was also inferred that two broods were annually raised,
from the fact that so much time was spent in its summer abode, and also
because full-fledged young were found by Mr. Nuttall in May, on the
Columbia, and in August, by Mr. Audubon, in Labrador.

According to Mr. J. K. Lord, who discovered this species to be very
common in Vancouver's Island, and also along the entire boundary-line of
Washington Territory and British Columbia, where it sometimes reaches an
elevation of six thousand feet, it constructs a pensile nest, which it
suspends from the extreme end of a pine-branch; and that it lays
from five to seven eggs. The materials of the nest, and the color and
dimensions of the eggs, were never described.

The world remained in ignorance of these matters until the summer of
1875, when Mr. H. D. Minot discovered, on the sixteenth day of July, a
nest of this species. It was built in a forest of the White Mountains,
which consisted chiefly of white birches and evergreens. The nest
was securely fastened to the twigs of a spreading hemlock-bough, was
globular in shape, and placed about four feet above the ground. The
outside was composed of hanging moss and bits of dead leaves; the
inside was chiefly lined with feathers. There can be no doubt as to the
authenticity of this nest, as Mr. Minot observed the parents in the act
of carrying food to their young, and was enabled to track them to their
homes.

But the structure from which the drawing was made--found near Bangor,
Maine--was presented to Mr. Harry Merrill, in the summer of 1876. It
was placed about six feet from the ground in a mass of thick growth so
peculiar to many of our fir trees, and is chiefly composed of moss on
the outside, with a few small fragments of chips, and is lined with hair
and feathers, the latter principally. The external diameter is four and
a half inches, and depth outside nearly three inches. The opening is at
the top, and measures about one and three-fourths inches across, and two
in depth. Although the birds that built this nest were not seen by
Mr. Merrill, yet by the pretty sure evidence of exclusion, they cannot
belong to any other species than the one under consideration.

Of their habits while with young, our knowledge is small. It is evident,
however, from what Mr. Minot says, that both parents supply their
nestlings with food. Incubation is doubtless performed by them both, the
female assuming the bulk of the labor. Unlike many species, these birds
do not pass the breeding-season in silence, but keep up, with occasional
intermissions, an animated twittering.

The eggs possibly range from six to ten in number. To the eye they
appear of a cream-white color, apparently covered with minute spots.
Under the microscope, the ground-color is white, with shell marks
of purplish-slate, and a few obscure spots of a deep buff, rather
superficial, to which their dirty tinge is probably due. The largest
egg measures .52 of an inch in length, and .40 in width; the smallest, .47
by .30 inches. The average dimensions of the ten eggs are .50 by .41
inches.


[Illustration: 152]




Plate XVII.--UTAMANIA TORDA, (Linn.), Leach.--Razor-billed Auk.

The Razor-billed Auc, owing to its boreal residence, is not so well
known as many other marine species which breed nearer home. Like its
few intimate cousins, it is chiefly restricted to Arctic regions, only
coming southward when pressed by severe weather.

Though apparently the best known of its family, yet many of the
details of its habits are lacking to render its biography anything like
complete. Of its area of distribution we are tolerably well-informed.
In the north-eastern portions of North America, particularly along the
sea-borders of Labrador and Newfoundland, it is quite plentiful, and
thence occasionally strays along the coast-lines of New England and the
Middle States during the winter. These birds, however, are not confined
to this continent, but are identical with the bird of the northern
regions of the Old World.

According to Mr. Cory, who has studied them in their haunts, they are
remarkably abundant and prolific on some of the Magdalen Islands, Bird
Rock and Byron Island especially, where the young birds were observed in
their downy robes of black and white.

Visiting the United States only in small numbers during the inclemency
of winter, its predilection for the northern homes of its fathers--when
the mild breath of spring in its upward march from the South has
tempered with mercy the reign of old Boreas in his rocky, ice-bound
fastnesses--induces it to take its departure, and wend its longing
flight thither.

There is not the slightest evidence, so far as our investigations have
extended, to show that any attempts have ever been made to nest along
the shores of this country. The fact that the species breeds on the
islands in the Bay of Fundy, would seem to warrant the belief that they
may yet be found to visit the coast of Maine for this purpose. There
seems to be no good reason why they should not do so, as the maritime
parts of this State are apparently as well adapted for nesting as the
islands just mentioned.

Be this as it may, cool northern localities seem to be more
advantageous, and there, along with the Guillemots as their neighbors,
the subject of our sketch establishes his home and rears his little
family.

In boreal regions where the amatory forces are not called into action
as early as in more southern climes, by reason of the greater degrees
of cold which prevail, the acquirement of food seems to exercise such a
controlling influence over bird-nature, that all other duties are held
under temporary restraint. Consequently, matrimonial relations are not
entered into as early as in warmer latitudes. This essential business is
delayed, and is only warmed into activity when the sun has reached the
northern limits of its course.

About the beginning of June, there occurs a lull in foraging
transactions, and the sexes become suddenly aware of the object of their
creation. Mating is at once entered into, but with what appearance of
show, we are unable to say.

Having attended to this duty, without further ado, they seek themselves
out a spot in which to lay their egg or eggs. For this purpose a
horizontal cavern or some exposed locality is generally chosen. But
when they deposit their eggs along with the Guillemots, which they are
occasionally disposed to do, they drop them in situations from which the
water can escape without offering any material injury thereto.

In deep fissures, many birds lie together, and place their eggs upon
small beds of pebbles or broken stones, which are raised a couple of
inches or more, so that the water may readily pass beneath them. Here
the eggs are scattered at distances of three or four inches from each
other, and are incubated, as in the case of the Ducks, by the birds
sitting flat upon them. Whereas, upon an exposed rock, each bird stands
almost upright on its egg.

There yet remains a very strange fact concerning this Auk, which needs
to be noted. It pertains to the number of eggs which is to constitute
a nest-full. When nesting occurs in secluded situations, where security
against tidal currents, and divers accidents, is to be gained, in the
majority of instances, two eggs are found under a single female. In
exposed situations, on the other hand, it is a rare occurrence to find
more than one egg as a complement.

The above statements, which are substantially those of Audubon, have
been repeatedly verified by other observers, some of whom are among
the writer's most reliable correspondents. At first we were disposed to
question their accuracy. We could not see what advantages a sequestered
situation had over one that was open and exposed, so as to lead the
birds to double their number in the former case. Our only way out of the
difficulty then, was by supposing the two eggs to be laid by different
birds, in close proximity to each other. For want of the necessary room
to accommodate the two females, it became the duty of one or the other
to assume the responsibility of them. Owing to the great difficulty
of distinguishing the eggs of this species from those of the Murre or
Foolish Guillemot, which most oologists have experienced, and which
Audubon does not seem to have encountered, it occurred to us that as the
Auks are prone to drop their eggs alongside of those of the Guillemots,
maybe the two eggs were those of distinct species, and not the product
of the one under consideration.

Without further mincing of matters, there does not seem to be any valid
reason for doubting the authenticity of Audubon's statements. But as a
true student of Nature, it is our duty to receive the facts, confirmed
as they have been by subsequent observations, and seek an explanation
thereof which will be both rational and philosophic.

In exposed situations, the eggs are subject to certain perils, such as
exposures to storms and violent gusts of wind, which more retired places
would guard against. The Auks have doubtless learned this as a lesson of
experience. Perhaps, necessity only compels them to occupy such sites,
when there is a scarcity of deep fissures and horizontal caverns, by
reason of a superabundance of mated individuals. If one egg could be
better protected and covered than two, which the nearly erect attitude
of the bird would seem to warrant us in believing, some females would
certainly not be slow in perceiving the advantages to be acquired. The
experiment being tried by birds of unusual sagacity, and with happy
results, in course of time all the others would be led to the practice
of depositing a single egg. Furthermore, the laying of one egg, in case
of breakage, would not be as severely felt as in cases where more than
one constituted the complement. The habit of laying one egg in exposed
situations, would doubtless be continued for a while at least, should
the species so accustomed, ever be called upon to nest in places
protected by the rocky munitions of Nature. And, on the other hand,
birds habituated to nesting in sheltered situations, would for a while
continue to deposit two eggs for a setting.

The eggs being laid, the female soon commences to incubate. This seems
to be the exclusive labor of the sex. The fact that she plucks the
feathers from her abdomen, forming one or two bare spots (according to
the number which is to compose her complement) with a ridge of feathers
between them, though circumstantial in character, is the only kind
of evidence that we have to offer in support of our assertion. Of the
precise time required for hatching, we have no knowledge. From the size
of the egg, and the thickness of its shell, we reason from analogy that
it cannot be less than twenty-four days. The female is not a constant
sitter during the daytime, the heated pebbles on clear, sunshiny days
supplying the necessary warmth during her absence. When the weather is
cloudy, and even during the cool nights, she remains on the nest, the
male, as a faithful husband, doubtless answering her calls for food, or
keeping her company.

That these birds manifest true affection for each other cannot be
denied. They may have a different way of showing it from what we are
accustomed to see among our small land-birds, but we cannot speak with
positiveness. But this much is undisputed, when one is killed, its mate
does not desert it, but paddles around it, as if seeking the cause of
its stillness. At such times, so absorbed does it become, whether from
grief or wonder we cannot say, that it can easily be approached and
knocked over with an oar.

The food of the Razor-bills consists of small fishes, roe, shrimps,
various marine animals, and floating garbage, which they procure by
diving and swimming, or pick up among the rocks which they frequent. The
young doubtless subsist upon the same materials, which they receive from
their parents, in small pieces, during their earliest life. But after
they have passed the downy stage, and are thrown, in a measure, upon
their own resources, they imitate the example of their parents.

So much like the eggs of the Foolish Guillemot or Murre, already
mentioned, are those of this species, that it is impossible to discern a
characteristic so peculiar and persistent as to enable us to distinguish
them apart. The ground-color is generally a pure-white; but specimens
are often met with which are cream-colored, and others, again, which are
tinted with green. The spots and blotches are irregularly distributed,
but chiefly about the middle and the larger end. Some are small and
nearly round, others large and irregular. In color they show different
shades of black and brown. In addition to these markings, there are
others scattered over the egg, of an obscure-purple hue, which have the
appearance of being beneath the outside of the shell. The eggs vary in
shape; occasionally they are pyriform and ovoidal, and, at other times,
decidedly ovate.

Their length is 3.19 inches, and breadth 2.13. In the Plate, the egg is
figured the natural size, and placed upon the summit of a small pile of
stones at the entrance to a cavern along a rocky seashore. The birds are
reduced and put in the background, the idea being to show their form, as
well as the arrangement of their plumage.


[Illustration: 160]




Plate XVIII.--DENDROECA DISCOLOR, Baird.--Prairie Warbler.

|The Prairie Warbler is nowhere an abundant species. Throughout the
eastern parts of the United States, from Massachusetts to Georgia, it
is pretty generally, though somewhat irregularly, diffused. It is also
found in Kansas, according to Mr. Allen, although unobserved by Dr.
Coues in his western explorations.

Audubon claims to have met it in Louisiana, but his description of its
nesting is so palpably inaccurate, that we are compelled to accept his
statement with misgivings. Wilson obtained specimens in Kentucky, and
to him the species is indebted for the very inappropriate appellation by
which it is known. Nuttall regarded it a rare visitor in the New England
States, yet subsequent observations do not confirm his opinion, but
show, in Massachusetts especially, that it is rather common. In Eastern
Tennessee and Northern Georgia, in the summer of 1880, Mr. Alexander M.
Reynolds, of Germantown, Pa., met with numerous individuals, which had
probably bred in those regions, but no nests were taken.

Although the town of Lynn, Mass., in latitude 42° 30', had hitherto been
accepted as the northern limit of its breeding, yet it was reserved for
H. D. Minot, Esq., to prove that the species often reached the
latitude of Mt. Washington, nearly three degrees further north. Future
explorations will doubtless show that its vernal migration often
surpasses this limit, and reaches even to the Canadian dominions.

In the Middle Atlantic States the writer has obtained specimens early
in May, and has observed in Southern New Jersey, and elsewhere, young
birds just able to fly, but could never discover auy nests. Mr. Jolin
Cassin, in his day, expressed the opinion that these birds certainly
bred in the same State, near Philadelphia, as he frequently met with the
young under similar circumstances. Nests have been taken in Central New
York, but we have no evidence of its breeding in the adjoining State of
Pennsylvania, although individuals have been seen _in transitu_.

Though chiefly a migrant in the United States, yet a few winter
in Florida. But the larger part cross the Channel, after the
breeding-season is over, and spend their time in the delightful islands
which lie to the southward. Here, in January, these once beautiful birds
may be seen in their winter garb sporting amid tropical or sub-tropical
foliage, or hunting the insects that contribute to their bill of fare.

About the beginning of April, sometimes later, they deck themselves in
their summer array, and while some sojourn in these Isles of the Blest
where summer is perennial, and raise their charming little families,
others pine for the cooler groves and fields of the North. Accordingly,
about the tenth of April, all things being in readiness, and at a season
when Nature is weeping herself away in rainy tears, the males apparently
leading the way, the sexes bid adieu to the sights about them, and take
their departure.

Their arrival in the Middle section of our country varies somewhat,
and is dependent upon the season. During some years we have noted their
appearance about the twentieth of April, when the weather was fine, and
at other times not earlier than the first of May. In the vicinity of
Washington, Dr. Coues has found them in pine-trees and cedar-patches,
about the same time. Farther south, in Georgia, for example, the
birds make their advent as early as the tenth of April, preferring the
hillsides to open localities, but it is not until the second or the
third week of May that they reach the New England States.

Few species of the family to which this Warbler belongs arrive sooner,
and none are less shy and suspicious. For more than two weeks they are
denizens of open plains and thinly-wooded regions, where they may be
seen from sunrise until sunset, save during the sultry noontide hours,
leisurely moving along the lowermost tree-branches, or among low bushes
and herbaceous weeds by the roadside, in search of insects, all the
while uttering, at brief intervals, their characteristic _chirr_. Near
Boston they frequent "almost exclusively rocky pasture grounds and the
'scrub,'" and instances are recorded by Mr. Minot where shrubbery in
cultivated grounds has been visited. According to Mr. Gosse, individuals
have been seen to fly from wayside-bushes into the middle of the road,
where, hovering in the air, at slight elevations above the ground, they
were apparently engaged in the capture of dipterous insects.

But as the mating season approaches, the males become quite restless.
They manifest less concern about food, and from some low eminence may
be seen pouring forth their slender, filing notes, which, as Nuttall
has represented, may be very aptly expressed by the suppressed syllables
'_tsh-tsh-tsh-tshea_. These notes cannot fail to attract attention, and,
when once heard, are sure to leave a lasting impress on the mind. They
are uttered in a peculiar tone, each being given in a louder key than
the preceding, and frequently with a strange depression of the tail.

The little musicians, however, have not long to wait. For hours we have
known some love-lorn minstrel of another species to sing his very soul
away, without an answering note to repay him for all his trouble. The
one for which he tuned his vocal pipe was too much occupied by other
cares to be mindful of the delicious strains which were being wasted 011
the desert air. But not so in the present instance. The dear ones for
whom they watch, and for whom they chant their sweetest, purest music,
are not so far removed by hill and dale, by grove and plain, are not
so absorbed in food-concerns, as not to hear the sounds which are being
uttered for their sole pleasure. But obedient to the call, they cease
their feeding, turn listening ears in the directions whence the sounds
issue, and hearing once again, with pleasure-beaming eyes and swelling
bosoms, seek the lonely haunts of their would-be-suitors. The joy of the
males is now unbounded. They strike their harps afresh, and music, it
seems, ten-fold more ravishing, is discoursed. The effect is charming.
The gentle beings feel the notes pulsing through their rapt frames,
and, all-unconscious, yield themselves willing subjects to their proud
conquerors.

Thus it is that mating is accomplished. A few days spent in aimless
wanderings and pleasure-seeking, and the happy pair are prepared to
build themselves a home. For this purpose they visit in company some
wild pasture-land or thinly-wooded tract, where, after a day or two
occupied in prospecting, they decide upon some kind of bush or low tree
in which to place it. The birds do not seem to be very particular as to
the kind. In some localities, a wild rose-bush is preferred. In others,
low barberry bushes, or the lower limbs of post-oaks, are rendered
subservient.

The site, and the kind of bush or tree being chosen, the birds commence
to build. The nest is non-pensile, and is fixed either in a forked
branch, or is supported, as is the case when placed in a wild rose, by
two or more branches. The elevation above the ground is usually from
four to seven feet. No case has come to our knowledge where the latter
height has been exceeded. The period of nesting varies according to
locality. In Georgia nests have been found with eggs as early as the
second of May, which would make it appear that they were constructed
towards the close of the preceding month. In one instance, eggs were
found as late as the tenth of June. It is probable that the birds
commence labor about the first of May, in this section of the country,
and sitting, a fortnight later. In New Jersey this essential business
is delayed until the middle of this month, while in Massachusetts, it is
not undertaken before the first week of June.

Having built their domicile, which is usually the work of a week,
both birds laboring with praiseworthy diligence, and only intermitting
operations when pressed by bad weather and the approach of night, the
female commences to deposit her eggs. These are laid on consecutive
days, at the rate of one a day. The time devoted to 

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