Go to Section Two
See also winter plumage of the Bobolink,
Goldfinch, and Myrtle Warbler. See females
of Red-winged Blackbird, Rusty Blackbird,
the Grackles, Bobolink, Cowbird, the Redpolls,
Purple Finch, Chewink, Bluebird, Indigo Bunting,
Baltimore Oriole, Cardinal, and of the Evening,
the Blue, and the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks.
See also Purple Finch, the Redpolls, Mourning
Dove, Mocking-bird, Robin.
HOUSE WREN
(Troglodytes aedon) Wren family
|
Length -- 4.5 to 5 inches. Actually about
one-fourth smaller than the English sparrow;
apparently only half as large because of
its erect tail. Male and Female -- Upper
parts cinnamon-brown. Deepest shade on head
and neck; lightest above tail, which is more
rufous. Back has obscure, dusky bars; wings
and tail are finely barred. Underneath whitish,
with grayish-brown wash and faint bands Most
prominent on sides. Range -- North America,
from Manitoba to the Gulf. Most common in
the United States, from the Mississippi eastward.
Winters south of the Carolinas. Migrations
-- April October. Common summer resident.
Early some morning in April there will go
off under your window that most delightful
of all alarm-clocks -- the tiny, friendly
house wren, just returned from a long visit
south. Like some little mountain spring that,
having been imprisoned by winter ice, now
bubbles up in the spring sunshine, and goes
rippling along over the pebbles, tumbling
over itself in merry cascades, so this little
wren's song bubbles, ripples, cascades in
a miniature torrent of ecstasy.
Year after year these birds return to the
same nesting places: a box set up against
the house, a crevice in the barn, a niche
under the eaves; but once home, always home
to them. The nest is kept scrupulously clean;
the house-cleaning, like the house-building
and renovating, being accompanied by the
cheeriest of songs, that makes the bird fairly
tremble by its intensity. But however angelic
the voice of the house wren, its temper can
put to flight even the English sparrow. Need
description go further.
Six to eight minutely speckled, flesh-colored
eggs suffice to keep the nervous, irritable
parents in a state bordering on frenzy whenever
another bird comes near their habitation.
With tail erect and head alert, the father
mounts on guard, singing a perfect ecstasy
of love to his silent little mate, that sits
upon the nest if no danger threatens; but
both rush with passionate malice upon the
first intruder, for it must be admitted that
Jenny wren is a sad shrew.
While the little family is being reared,
or, indeed, at any time, no one is wise enough
to estimate the millions of tiny insects
from the garden that find their way into
the tireless bills of these wrens.
It is often said that the house wren remains
at the north all the year, which, though
not a fact, is easily accounted for by the
coming of the winter wrens just as the others
migrate in the autumn, and by their return
to Canada when Jenny wren makes up her feather-bed
under the eaves in the spring. |
CAROLINA WREN
(Thryothorus ludovicianus) Wren family
|
Called also: MOCKING WREN
Length -- 6 inches. Just a trifle smaller
than the English sparrow Male and Female
-- Chestnut-brown above. A whitish streak,
beginning at base of bill, passes through
the eye to the nape of the neck. Throat whitish.
Under parts light buff-brown Wings and tail
finely barred with dark. Range -- United
States, from Gulf to northern Illinois and
Southern New England. Migrations -- A common
resident except at northern boundary of range,
where it is a summer visitor.
This largest of the wrens appears to be the
embodiment of the entire family characteristics:
it is exceedingly active, nervous, and easily
excited, quick-tempered, full of curiosity,
peeping into every hole and corner it passes,
short of flight as it is of wing, inseparable
from its mate till parted by death, and a
gushing lyrical songster that only death
itself can silence. It also has the wren-like
preference for a nest that is roofed over,
but not too near the homes of men.
Undergrowths near water, brush heaps, rocky
bits of woodland, are favorite resorts. The
Carolina wren decidedly objects to being
stared at, and likes to dart out of sight
in the midst of the underbrush in a twinkling
while the opera-glasses are being focussed.
To let off some of his superfluous vivacity,
Nature has provided him with two safety-valves:
one is his voice, another is his tail. With
the latter he gesticulates in a manner so
expressive that it seems to be a certain
index to what is passing in his busy little
brain -- drooping it, after the habit of
the catbird, when he becomes limp with the
emotion of his love-song, or holding it erect
as, alert and inquisitive, he peers at the
impudent intruder in the thicket below his
perch.
But it is his joyous, melodious, bubbling
song that is his chief fascination. He has
so great a variety of strains that many people
have thought that he learned them from other
birds, and so have called him what many ornithologists
declare that he is not -- a mocking wren.
And he is one of the few birds that sing
at night -- not in his sleep or only by moonlight,
but even in the total darkness, just before
dawn, he gives us the same wide-awake song
that entrances us by day. |
WINTER WREN
(Troglodytes biemalis) Wren family
|
Length -- 4 to 4.5 inches. About one-third
smaller than the English sparrow. Apparently
only half the size. Male and Female -- Cinnamon-brown
above, with numerous short, dusky bars. Head
and neck without markings. Underneath rusty,
dimly and finely barred with dark brown.
Tail short. Range -- United States, east
and west, and from North Carolina to the
Fur Countries Migrations -- October, April.
Summer resident. Commonly a winter resident
in the South and Middle States only.
It all too rarely happens that we see this
tiny mouse-like wren in summer, unless we
come upon him suddenly and overtake him unawares
as he creeps shyly over the mossy logs or
runs literally "like a flash" under
the fern and through the tangled underbrush
of the deep, cool woods. His presence there
is far more likely to be detected by the
ear than the eye.
Throughout the nesting season music fairly
pours from his tiny throat; it bubbles up
like champagne; it gushes forth in a lyrical
torrent and overflows into every nook of
the forest, that seems entirely pervaded
by his song. While music is everywhere, it
apparently comes from no particular point,
and, search as you may, the tiny singer still
eludes, exasperates, and yet entrances.
If by accident you discover him balancing
on a swaying twig, never far from the ground,
with his comical little tail erect, or more
likely pointing towards his head, what a
pert, saucy minstrel he is! You are lost
in amazement that so much music could come
from a throat so tiny.
Comparatively few of his admirers, however,
hear the exquisite notes of this little brown
wood-sprite, for after the nesting season
is over he finds little to call them forth
during the bleak, snowy winter months, when
in the Middle and Southern States he may
properly be called a neighbor. Sharp hunger,
rather than natural boldness, drives him
near the homes of men, where he appears just
as the house wren departs for the South.
With a forced confidence in man that is almost
pathetic in a bird that loves the forest
as he does, he picks up whatever lies about
the house or barn in the shape of food-crumbs
from the kitchen door, a morsel from the
dog's plate, a little seed in the barn-yard,
happily rewarded if he can find a spider
lurking in some sheltered place to give a
flavor to the unrelished grain. Now he becomes
almost tame, but we feel it is only because
he must be.
The spot that decided preference leads him
to, either winter or summer, is beside a
bubbling spring. In the moss that grows near
it the nest is placed in early summer, nearly
always roofed over and entered from the side,
in true wren-fashion; and as the young fledglings
emerge from the creamy-white eggs, almost
the first lesson they receive from their
devoted little parents is in the fine art
of bathing. Even in winter weather, when
the wren has to stand on a rim of ice, he
will duck and splash his diminutive body.
It is recorded of a certain little individual
that he was wont to dive through the icy
water on a December day. Evidently the wrens,
as a family, are not far removed in the evolutionary
scale from true water-birds. |
LONG-BILLED MARSH WREN
(Cistothorus palustris) Wren family
|
[Called also: MARSH WREN, AOU 1998]
Length -- 4.5 to 5.2 inches. Actually a little
smaller than the English sparrow. Apparently
half the size. Male and Female -- Brown above,
with white line over the eye, and the back
irregularly and faintly streaked with white.
Wings and tail barred with darker cinnamon-brown.
Underneath white. Sides dusky. Tail long
and often carried erect. Bill extra long
and slender. Range -- United States and southern
British America. Migrations -- May. September.
Summer resident.
Sometimes when you are gathering cat-tails
in the river marshes an alert, nervous little
brown bird rises startled from the rushes
and tries to elude you as with short, jerky
flight it goes deeper and deeper into the
marsh, where even the rubber boot may not
follow. It closely resembles two other birds
found in such a place, the swamp sparrow
and the short-billed marsh wren; but you
may know by its long, slender bill that it
is not the latter, and by the absence of
a bright bay crown that it is not the shyest
of the sparrows.
These marsh wrens appear to be especially
partial to running water; their homes are
not very far from brooks and rivers, preferably
those that are affected in their rise and
flow by the tides. They build in colonies,
and might be called inveterate singers, for
no single bird is often permitted to finish
his bubbling song without half the colony
joining in a chorus.
Still another characteristic of this particularly
interesting bird is its unique architectural
effects produced with coarse grasses woven
into globular form and suspended in the reeds.
Sometimes adapting its nest to the building
material at hand, it weaves it of grasses
and twigs, and suspends it from the limb
of a bush or tree overhanging the water,
where it swings like an oriole's. The entrance
to the nest is invariably on the side.
More devoted homebodies than these little
wrens are not among the feathered tribe.
Once let the hand of man desecrate their
nest, even before the tiny speckled eggs
are deposited in it, and off go the birds
to a more inaccessible place, where they
can enjoy their home unmolested. Thus three
or four nests may be made in a summer. |
SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN
(Cistothorus stellaris) Wren family
|
[Called also: SEDGE WREN, AOU 1998]
Length -- 4 to 5 inches. Actually about one-third
smaller than the English sparrow, but apparently
only half its size. Male and Female -- Brown
above, faintly streaked with white, black,
and buff. Wings and tail barred with same.
Underneath white, with buff and rusty tinges
on throat and breast. Short bill. Range --
North America, from Manitoba southward in
winter to Gulf of Mexico. Most common in
north temperate latitudes. Migrations --
Early May. Late September.
Where red-winged blackbirds like to congregate
in oozy pastures or near boggy woods, the
little short-billed wren may more often be
heard than seen, for he is more shy, if possible,
than his long-billed cousin, and will dive
down into the sedges at your approach, very
much as a duck disappears under water. But
if you see him at all, it is usually while
swaying to and fro as he clings to some tall
stalk of grass, keeping his balance by the
nervous, jerky tail motions characteristic
of all the wrens, and singing with all his
might. Oftentimes his tail reaches backward
almost to his head in a most exaggerated
wren-fashion.
Samuels explains the peculiar habit both
the long-billed and the short-billed marsh
wrens have of building several nests in one
season, by the theory that they are made
to protect the sitting female, for it is
noticed that the male bird always lures a
visitor to an empty nest, and if this does
not satisfy his curiosity, to another one,
to prove conclusively that he has no family
in prospect.
Wild rice is an ideal nesting place for a
colony of these little marsh wrens. The home
is made of sedge grasses, softly lined with
the softer meadow grass or plant-down, and
placed in a tussock of tall grass, or even
upon the ground. The entrance is on the side.
But while fond of moist places, both for
a home and feeding ground, it will be noticed
that these wrens have no special fondness
for running water, so dear to their long-billed
relatives. Another distinction is that the
eggs of this species, instead of being so
densely speckled as to look brown, are pure
white. |
BROWN THRASHER
(Harporhynchus rufus) Thrasher and Mocking-bird
family
|
Called also: BROWN THRUSH; GROUND
THRUSH; RED THRUSH; BROWN MOCKING-BIRD; FRENCH
MOCKING-BIRD; MAVIS
Length -- 11 to 11.5 inches. Fully an inch
longer than the robin. Male -- Rusty red-brown
or rufous above; darkest on wings, which
have two short whitish bands. Underneath
white, heavily streaked (except on throat)
with dark-brown, arrow-shaped spots. Tail
very long. Yellow eyes. Bill long and curved
at tip. Female -- Paler than male. Range
-- United States to Rockies. Nests from Gulf
States to Manitoba and Montreal. Winters
south of Virginia. Migrations -- Late April.
October. Common summer resident
"There's a merry brown thrush sitting
up in a tree; He is singing to me! He is
singing to me! And what does he say, little
girl, little boy? 'Oh, the world's running
over with joy!'"
The hackneyed poem beginning with this stanza
that delighted our nursery days, has left
in our minds a fairly correct impression
of the bird. He still proves to be one of
the perennially joyous singers, like a true
cousin of the wrens, and when we study him
afield, he appears to give his whole attention
to his song with a self-consciousness that
is rather amusing than the reverse. "What
musician wouldn't be conscious of his own
powers," he seems to challenge us, "if
he possessed such a gift?" Seated on
a conspicuous perch, as if inviting attention
to his performance, with uplifted head and
drooping tail he repeats the one exultant,
dashing air to which his repertoire is limited,
without waiting for an encore. Much practice
has given the notes a brilliancy of execution
to be compared only with the mockingbird's;
but in spite of the name "ferruginous
mocking-bird" that Audubon gave him,
he does not seem to have the faculty of imitating
other birds' songs. Thoreau says the Massachusetts
farmers, when planting their seed, always
think they hear the thrasher say, "Drop
it, drop it -- cover it up, cover it up --
pull it up, pull it up, pull it up."
One of the shatterings of childish impressions
that age too often brings is when we learn
by the books that our "merry brown thrush"
is no thrush at all, but a thrasher -- first
cousin to the wrens, in spite of his speckled
breast, large size, and certain thrush-like
instincts, such as never singing near the
nest and shunning mankind in the nesting
season, to mention only two. Certainly his
bold, swinging flight and habit of hopping
and running over the ground would seem to
indicate that he is not very far removed
from the true thrushes. But he has one undeniable
wren-like trait, that of twitching, wagging,
and thrashing his long tail about to help
express his emotions. It swings like a pendulum
as he rests on a branch, and thrashes about
in a most ludicrous way as he is feeding
on the ground upon the worms, insects, and
fruit that constitute his diet.
Before the fatal multiplication of cats,
and in unfrequented, sandy locations still,
the thrasher builds her nest upon the ground,
thus earning the name "ground thrush"
that is often given her; but with dearly
paid-for wisdom she now most frequently selecting
a low shrub or tree to cradle the two broods
that all too early in the summer effectually
silence the father's delightful song. |
WILSON'S THRUSH
(Turdus fuscescens) Thrush family
|
Called also: VEERY {AOU 1998]; TAWNY THRUSH
Length -- 7 to 7.5 inches. About one-fourth
smaller than the robin. Male and Female --
Uniform olive-brown, with a tawny cast above.
Centre of the throat white, with cream-buff
on sides of throat and upper part of breast,
which is lightly spotted with wedge-shaped,
brown points. Underneath white, or with a
faint grayish tinge. Range -- United States,
westward to plains. Migrations -- May. October.
Summer resident.
To many of us the veery, as they call the
Wilson's thrush in New England, is merely
a voice, a sylvan mystery, reflecting the
sweetness and wildness of the forest, a vocal
"will-o'-the-wisp" that, after
enticing us deeper and deeper into the woods,
where we sink into the spongy moss of its
damp retreats and become entangled in the
wild grape-vines twined about the saplings
and underbrush, still sings to us from unapproachable
tangles. Plainly, if we want to see the bird,
we must let it seek us out on the fallen
log where we have sunk exhausted in the chase.
Presently a brown bird scuds through the
fern. It is a thrush, you guess in a minute,
from its slender, graceful body. At first
you notice no speckles on its breast, but
as it comes nearer, obscure arrow-heads are
visible -- not heavy, heart-shaped spots
such as plentifully speckle the larger wood
thrush or the smaller hermit. It is the smallest
of the three commoner thrushes, and it lacks
the ring about the eye that both the others
have. Shy and elusive, it slips away again
in a most unfriendly fashion, and is lost
in the wet tangle before you have become
acquainted. You determine, however, before
you leave the log, to cultivate the acquaintance
of this bird the next spring, when, before
it mates and retreats to the forest, it comes
boldly into the gardens and scratches about
in the dry leaves on the ground for the lurking
insects beneath. Miss Florence Merriam tells
of having drawn a number of veeries about
her by imitating their call-note, which is
a whistled wheew, whoit, very easy to counterfeit
when once heard. "Taweel-ah, taweel-ah,
twil-ah, twil-ah!" Professor Ridgeway
interprets their song, that descends in a
succession of trills without break or pause;
but no words can possibly convey an idea
of the quality of the music. The veery, that
never claims an audience, sings at night
also, and its weird, sweet strains floating
through the woods at dusk, thrill one like
the mysterious voice of a disembodied spirit.
Whittier mentions the veery in "The
Playmate":
"And here in spring the veeries sing
The song of long ago." |
WOOD THRUSH
(Turdus mustelinus) Thrush family
|
Called also: SONG THRUSH; WOOD ROBIN; BELLBIRD
Length -- 8 to 8.3 inches. About two inches
shorter than the robin. Male and Female --
Brown above, reddish on head and shoulders,
shading into olive-brown on tail. Throat,
breast, and underneath white, plain in the
middle, but heavily marked on sides and breast
with heart-shaped spots of very dark brown.
Whitish eye-ring. Migrations -- Late April
or early May. October. Summer resident.
When Nuttall wrote of "this solitary
and retiring songster," before the country
was as thickly settled as it is to-day, it
possibly had not developed the confidence
in men that now distinguishes the wood thrush
from its shy congeners that are distinctly
wood birds, which it can no longer strictly
be said to be. In city parks and country
places, where plenty of trees shade the village
streets and lawns, it comes near you, half
hopping, half running, with dignified unconsciousness
and even familiarity, all the more delightful
in a bird whose family instincts should take
it into secluded woodlands with their shady
dells. Perhaps, in its heart of hearts, it
still prefers such retreats. Many conservative
wood thrushes keep to their wild haunts,
and it must be owned not a few liberals,
that discard family traditions at other times,
seek the forest at nesting time. But social as the wood thrush is and abundant,
too, it is also eminently high-bred; and
when contrasted with its tawny cousin, the
veery, that skulks away to hide in the nearest
bushes as you approach, or with the hermit
thrush, that pours out its heavenly song
in the solitude of the forest, how gracious
and full of gentle confidence it seems! Every
gesture is graceful and elegant; even a wriggling
beetle is eaten as daintily as caviare at
the king's table. It is only when its confidence
in you is abused, and you pass too near the
nest, that might easily be mistaken for a
robin's, just above your head in a sapling,
that the wood thrush so far forgets itself
as to become excited. Pit, pit, pit, sharply reiterated, is called
out at you with a strident quality in the
tone that is painful evidence of the fearful
anxiety your presence gives this gentle bird.
Too many guardians of nests,
whether out
of excessive happiness
or excessive stupidity,
have a dangerous habit
of singing very near
them. Not so the wood thrush.
"Come
to me," as the opening
notes of its
flute-like song have been
freely translated,
invites the intruder far
away from where
the blue eggs lie cradled
in ambush. is as
good a rendering into syllables
of the luscious
song as could very well
be made. Pure, liquid,
rich, and luscious, it
rings out from the
trees on the summer air
and penetrates our
home like "Uoli-a-e-o-li-noli-nol-aeolee-lee!
strait of music from a
stringed quartette. |
HERMIT THRUSH
(Turdus aonalaschkae pallasii) Thrush family
|
Called also: SWAMP ANGEL; LITTLE THRUSH
Length -- 7.25 to 7.5 inches. About one-fourth
smaller than the robin. Male and Female --
Upper parts olive-brown, reddening near the
tail, which is pale rufous, quite distinct
from the color of the back. Throat, sides
of neck, and breast pale buff. Feathers of
throat and neck finished with dark arrow-points
at tip; feathers of the breast have larger
rounded spots. Sides brownish gray. Underneath
white. A yellow ring around the eye. Smallest
of the thrushes. Range -- Eastern parts of
North America. Most common in the United
States to the plains. Winters from southern
Illinois and New Jersey to Gulf. Migrations
-- April. November. Summer resident.
The first thrush to come and the last to
go, nevertheless the hermit is little seen
throughout its long visit north. It may loiter
awhile in the shrubby roadsides, in the garden
or the parks in the spring before it begins
the serious business of life in a nest of
moss, coarse grass, and pine-needles placed
on the ground in the depths of the forest,
but by the middle of May its presence in
the neighborhood of our homes becomes only
a memory. Although one never hears it at
its best during the migrations, how one loves
to recall the serene, ethereal evening hymn!
"The finest sound in Nature," John
Burroughs calls it. "It is not a proud,
gorgeous strain like the tanager's or the
grosbeak's," he says; "it suggests
no passion or emotion -- nothing personal,
but seems to be the voice of that calm, sweet
solemnity one attains to in his best moments.
It realizes a peace and a deep, solemn joy
that only the finest souls may know."
Beyond the question of even the hypercritical,
the hermit thrush has a more exquisitely
beautiful voice than any other American bird,
and only the nightingale's of Europe can
be compared with it. It is the one theme
that exhausts all the ornithologists' musical
adjectives in a vain attempt to convey in
words any idea of it to one who has never
heard it, for the quality of the song is
as elusive as the bird itself. But why should
the poets be so silent? Why has it not called
forth such verse as the English poets have
lavished upon the nightingale? Undoubtedly
because it lifts up its heavenly voice in
the solitude of the forest. whereas the nightingales,
singing in loud choruses in the moonlight
under the poet's very window, cannot but
impress his waking thoughts and even his
dreams with their melody.
Since the severe storm and cold in the Gulf
States a few winters ago, where vast numbers
of hermit thrushes died from cold and starvation,
this bird has been very rare in haunts where
it used to be abundant. The other thrushes
escaped because they spend the winter farther
south. |
ALICE'S THRUSH
(Turdus alicia) Thrush family
|
Called also: GRAY-CHEEKED THRUSH; [now separated
into two species: the more mid-western GRAY-CHEEKED
THRUSH and the New England and Adirondack
BICKNELL'S THRUSH, AOU 1998]
Length -- 7.5 to 8 inches. About the size
of the bluebird. Male and Female -- Upper
parts uniform olive-brown. Eye-ring whitish.
Cheeks gray; sides dull grayish white. Sides
of the throat and breast pale cream-buff,
speckled with arrow-shaped points on throat
and with half-round dark-brown marks below.
Range -- North America, from Labrador and
Alaska to Central America. Migrations --
Late April or May. October. Chiefly seen
in migrations, except at northern parts of
its range.
One looks for a prettier bird than this least
attractive of all the thrushes in one that
bears such a suggestive name. Like the olive-backed
thrush, from which it is almost impossible
to tell it when both are alive and hopping
about the shrubbery, its plumage above is
a dull olive-brown that is more protective
than pleasing.
Just as Wilson hopelessly confused the olive-backed
thrush with the hermit, so has Alice's thrush
been confounded by later writers with the
olive-backed, from which it differs chiefly
in being a trifle larger, in having gray
cheeks instead of buff, and in possessing
a few faint streaks on the throat. Where
it goes to make a home for its greenish-blue
speckled eggs in some low bush at the northern
end of its range, it bursts into song, but
except in the nesting grounds its voice is
never heard. Mr. Bradford Torrey, who heard
it singing in the White Mountains, describes
the song as like the thrush's in quality,
but differently accented: "Wee-o-wee-o-tit-ti-wee-o!"
In New England and New York this thrush is
most often seen during its autumn migrations.
As it starts up and perches upon a low branch
before you, it appears to have longer legs
and a broader, squarer tail than its congeners.
|
OLIVE-BACKED THRUSH
(Turdus ustulatus swainsonii) Thrush family
|
Called also: SWAINSON'S THRUSH [AOU 1998]
Length -- 7 to 7.50 inches. About one-fourth
smaller than the robin. Male and Female --
Upper parts olive-brown. Whole throat and
breast yellow-buff, shading to ashy on sides
and to white underneath. Buff ring around
eye. Dark streaks on sides of throat (none
on centre), and larger, more spot-like marks
on breast. Range -- North America to Rockies;
a few stragglers on Pacific slope. Northward
to arctic countries. Migrations -- April.
October. Summer resident in Canada. Chiefly
a migrant in United States.
Mr. Parkhurst tells of finding this "the
commonest bird in the Park (Central Park,
New York), not even excepting the robin,"
during the last week of May on a certain
year; but usually, it must be owned, we have
to be on the lookout to find it, or it will
pass unnoticed in the great companies of
more conspicuous birds travelling at the
same time. White-throated sparrows often
keep it company on the long journeys northward,
and they may frequently be seen together,
hopping sociably about the garden, the thrush
calling out a rather harsh note -- puk! puk!
--bsp; quite different from the liquid, mellow
calls of the other thrushes, to resent either
the sparrows' bad manners or the inquisitiveness
of a human disturber of its peace. But this
gregarious habit and neighborly visit end
even before acquaintance fairly begins, and
the thrushes are off for their nesting grounds
in the pine woods of New England or Labrador
if they are travelling up the east coast,
or to Alaska, British Columbia, or Manitoba
if west of the Mississippi. There they stay
all summer, often travelling southward with
the sparrows in the autumn, as in the spring.
Why they should prefer coniferous trees,
unless to utilize the needles for a nest,
is not understood. Low trees and bushes are
favorite building sites with them as with
others of the family, though these thrushes
disdain a mud lining to their nests. Those
who have heard the olive-backed thrush singing
an even-song to its brooding mate compare
it with the veery's, but it has a break in
it and is less simple and pleasing than the
latter's. |
LOUISIANA WATER THRUSH
(Seiurus motacilla) Wood Warbler family
|
Length -- 6 to 6.28 inches. Just a trifle
smaller than the English sparrow. Male and
Female -- Grayish olive-brown upper parts,
with conspicuous white line over the eye
and reaching almost to the nape. Underneath
white, tinged with pale buff. Throat and
line through the middle, plain. Other parts
streaked with very dark brown, rather faintly
on the breast, giving them the speckled breast
of the thrushes. Heavy, dark bill. Range
-- United States, westward to the plains;
northward to southern New England. Winters
in the tropics. Migrations -- Late April.
October. Summer resident.
This bird, that so delighted Audubon with
its high-trilled song as he tramped with
indefatigable zeal through the hammocks of
the Gulf States, seems to be almost the counterpart
of the Northern water thrush, just as the
loggerhead is the Southern counterpart of
the Northern shrike. Very many Eastern birds
have their duplicates in Western species,
as we all know, and it is most interesting
to trace the slight external variations that
different climates and diet have produced
on the same bird, and thus differentiated
the species. In winter the Northern water
thrush visits the cradle of its kind, the
swamps of Louisiana and Florida, and, no
doubt, by daily contact with its congeners
there, keeps close to their cherished traditions,
from which it never deviates farther than
Nature compels, though it penetrate to the
arctic regions during its summer journeys.
With a more southerly range, the Louisiana
water thrush does not venture beyond the
White Mountains and to the shores of the
Great Lakes in summer, but even at the North
the same woods often contain both birds,
and there is opportunity to note just how
much they differ. The Southern bird is slightly
the larger, possibly an inch; it is more
gray, and it lacks a few of the streaks,
notably on the throat, that plentifully speckle
its Northern counterpart; but the habits
of both of these birds appear to be identical.
Only for a few days in the spring or autumn
migrations do they pass near enough to our
homes for us to study them, and then we must
ever be on the alert to steal a glance at
them through the opera-glasses, for birds
more shy than they do not visit the garden
shrubbery at any season. Only let them suspect
they are being stared at, and they are under
cover in a twinkling.
Where mountain streams dash through tracts
of mossy, spongy ground that is carpeted
with fern and moss, and overgrown with impenetrable
thickets of underbrush and tangles of creepers
-- such a place is the favorite resort of
both the water thrushes. With a rubber boot
missing, clothes torn, and temper by no means
unruffled, you finally stand over the Louisiana
thrush's nest in the roots of an upturned
tree immediately over the water, or else
in a mossy root-belaced bank above a purling
stream. A liquid-trilled warble, wild and
sweet, breaks the stillness, and, like Audubon,
you feel amply rewarded for your pains though
you may not be prepared to agree with him
in thinking the song the equal of the European
nightingale's. |
NORTHERN WATER THRUSH
(Seiurus noveboracensis) Wood Warbler family
|
Called also: NEW YORK WATER THRUSH; AQUATIC
WOOD WAGTAIL; AQUATIC THRUSH
Length -- 5 to 6 inches. A trifle smaller
than the English sparrow. Male and Female
-- Uniform olive or grayish brown above.
Pale buff line over the eye. Underneath,
white tinged with sulphur yellow, and streaked
like a thrush with very dark brown arrow
headed or oblong spots that are also seen
underneath wings. Range -- United States,
westward to Rockies and northward through
British provinces. Winters from Gulf States
southward. Migrations -- Late April. October.
Summer resident.
According to the books we have before us,
a warbler; but who, to look at his speckled
throat and breast, would ever take him for
anything but a diminutive thrush; or, studying
him from some distance through the opera-glasses
as he runs in and out of the little waves
along the brook or river shore, would not
name him a baby sandpiper? The rather unsteady
motion of his legs, balancing of the tail,
and sudden jerking of the head suggest an
aquatic bird rather than a bird of the woods.
But to really know either man or beast, you
must follow him to his home, and if you have
pluck enough to brave the swamp and the almost
impenetrable tangle of undergrowth where
the water thrush chooses to nest, there "In
the swamp in secluded recesses, a shy and
hidden bird is warbling a song;" and
this warbled song that Walt Whitman so adored
gives you your first clue to the proper classification
of the bird. It has nothing in common with
the serene, hymn-like voices of the true
thrushes; the bird has no flute-like notes,
but an emphatic smacking or chucking kind
of warble. For a few days only is this song
heard about the gardens and roadsides of
our country places. Like the Louisiana water
thrush, this bird never ventures near the
homes of men after the spring and autumn
migrations, but, on the contrary, goes as
far away from them as possible, preferably
to some mountain region, beside a cool and
dashing brook, where a party of adventurous
young climbers from a summer hotel or the
lonely trout fisherman may startle it from
its mossy nest on the ground. |
FLICKER
(Colaptes auratus) Woodpecker family
|
Called also: GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER; CLAPE;
PIGEON WOODPECKER; YELLOWHAMMER; HIGH HOLE
OR HIGH-HOLDER; YARUP; WAKE-UP; YELLOW-SHAFTED
WOODPECKER
Length -- 12 to 13 inches. About one-fourth
as large again as the robin. Male and Female
-- Head and neck bluish gray, with a red
crescent across back of neck and a black
crescent on breast. Male has black cheek-patches,
that are wanting in female. Golden brown
shading into brownish-gray, and barred with
black above. Underneath whitish, tinged with
light chocolate and thickly spotted with
black. Wing linings, shafts of wing, and
tail quills bright yellow. Above tail white,
conspicuous when the bird flies. Range --
United States, east of Rockies; Alaska and
British America, south of Hudson Bay. Occasional
on Pacific slope. Migrations -- Most commonly
seen from April to October. Usually Resident.
If we were to follow the list of thirty-six
aliases by which this largest and commonest
of our woodpeckers is known throughout its
wide range, we should find all its peculiarities
of color, flight, noises, and habits indicated
in its popular names. It cannot but attract
attention wherever seen, with its beautiful
plumage, conspicuously yellow if its outstretched
wings are looked at from below, conspicuously
brown and white if seen upon the ground.
At a distance it suggests the meadowlark.
Both birds wear black, crescent breast p>decorations,
and the flicker also has the habit of feeding
upon the ground, especially in autumn, a
characteristic not shared by its relations.
Early in the spring this bird of many names
and many voices makes itself known by a long,
strong, sonorous call, a sort of proclamation
that differs from its song proper, which
Audubon. calls "a prolonged jovial laugh"
(described by Mrs. Wright as "Wick,
wick, wick, wick!") and differs also
from its rapidly repeated, mellow, and most
musical cub, cub, cub, cub, cub, uttered
during the nesting season.
Its nasal kee-yer, vigorously called out
in the autumn, is less characteristic, however,
than the sound it makes while associating
with its fellows on the feeding ground --
a sound that Mr. Frank M. Chapman says can
be closely imitated by the swishing of a
willow wand.
A very ardent and ridiculous-looking lover
is this bird, as, with tail stiffly spread,
he sidles up to his desired mate and bows
and bobs before her, then retreats and advances,
bowing and bobbing again, very often with
a rival lover beside him (whom he generously
tolerates) trying to outdo him in grace and
general attractiveness. Not the least of
the bird's qualities that must commend themselves
to the bride is his unfailing good nature,
genial alike in the home and in the field.
The "high-holders" have the peculiar
and silly habit of boring out a number of
superfluous holes for nests high up in the
trees, in buildings, or hollow wooden columns,
only one of which they intend to use. Six
white eggs is the proper number for a household,
but Dr. Coues says the female that has been
robbed keeps on laying three or even four
sets of eggs without interruption. |
MEADOWLARK
(Sturnella magna) Blackbird family
|
Called also: FIELD LARK; OLDFIELD LARK; [EASTERN
MEADOWLARK, AOU 1998]
Length -- 10 to 11 inches. A trifle larger
than the robin. Male -- Upper parts brown,
varied with chestnut, deep brown, and black.
Crown streaked with brown and black, and
with a cream-colored streak through the centre.
Dark-brown line apparently running through
the eye; another line over eye, yellow. Throat
and chin yellow; a large conspicuous black
crescent on breast. Underneath yellow, shading
into buffy brown, spotted or streaked with
very dark brown, Outer tail feathers chiefly
white, conspicuous in flight. Long, strong
legs and claws, adapted for walking. Less
black in winter plumage, which is more grayish
brown. Female -- Paler than male. Range --
North America, from Newfoundland to the Gulf
of Mexico, and westward to the plains, where
the Western meadowlark takes its place. Winters
from Massachusetts and Illinois southward.
Migrations -- April. Late October. Usually
a resident, a few remaining through the winter.
In the same meadows with the red-winged blackbirds,
birds of another feather, but of the same
family, nevertheless, may be found flocking
together, hunting for worms and larvae, building
their nests, and rearing their young very
near each other with the truly social instinct
of all their kin.
The meadowlarks, which are really not larks
at all, but the blackbirds' and orioles'
cousins, are so protected by the coloring
of the feathers on their backs, like that
of the grass and stubble they live among,
that ten blackbirds are noticed for every
meadowlark although the latter is very common.
Not until you flush a flock of them as you
walk along the roadside or through the meadows
and you note the white tail feathers and
the black crescents on the yellow breasts
of the large brown birds that rise towards
the tree-tops with whirring sound and a flight
suggesting the quail's, do you suspect there
are any birds among the tall grasses.
Their clear and piercing whistle, "Spring
o' the y-e-a-r, Spring o' the year!"
rings out from the trees with varying intonation
and accent, but always sweet and inspiriting.
To the bird's high vantage ground you may
not follow, for no longer having the protection
of the high grass, it has become wary and
flies away as you approach, calling out peent-peent
and nervously flitting its tail (again showing
the white feather), when it rests a moment
on the pasture fence-rail.
It is like looking for a needle in a haystack
to try to find a meadowlark's nest, an unpretentious
structure of dried grasses partly arched
over and hidden in a clump of high timothy,
flat upon the ground. But what havoc snakes
and field-mice play with the white-speckled
eggs and helpless fledglings! The care of
rearing two or three broods in a season and
the change of plumage to duller winter tints
seem to exhaust the high spirits of the sweet
whistler. For a time he is silent, but partly
regains his vocal powers in the autumn, when,
with large flocks of his own kind, he resorts
to marshy feeding grounds. In the winter
he chooses for companions the horned larks,
that walk along the shore, or the snow buntings
and sparrows of the inland pastures, and
will even include the denizens of the barn-yard
when hunger drives him close to the haunts
of men.
The Western Meadowlark or Prairie Lark (Sturnella
magna neglecta), which many ornithologists
consider a different species from the foregoing
[as does AOU 1998], is distinguished chiefly
by its lighter, more grayish-brown plumage,
by its yellow cheeks, and more especially
by its richer, fuller song. In his "Birds
of Manitoba" Mr. Ernest E. Thompson
says of this meadowlark: "In richness
of voice and modulation it equals or excels
both wood thrush and nightingale, and in
the beauty of its articulation it has no
superior in the whole world of feathered
choristers with which I am acquainted."
|
HORNED LARK
(Otocoris alpestris) Lark family
|
Called also: SHORE LARK
Length -- 7.5 to 8 inches. About one-fifth
smaller than the robin. Male -- Upper parts
dull brown, streaked with lighter on edges
and tinged with pink or vinaceous; darkest
on back of head neck, shoulders, and nearest
the tail. A few erectile feathers on either
side of the head form slight tufts or horns
that are wanting in female. A black mark
from the base of the bill passes below the
eye and ends in a horn-shaped curve on cheeks,
which are yellow. Throat clear yellow. Breast
has crescent shaped black patch. Underneath
soiled white, with dusky spots on lower breast.
Tail black, the outer feathers margined with
white, noticed in flight. Female -- Has yellow
eye-stripe; less prominent markings, especially
on head, and is a trifle smaller. Range --
Northeastern parts of North America, and
in winter from Ohio and eastern United States
as far south as North Carolina. Migrations
-- October and November. March. Winter resident
Far away to the north in Greenland and Labrador
this true lark, the most beautiful of its
genus, makes its summer home. There it is
a conspicuously handsome bird with its pinkish-gray
and chocolate feathers, that have greatly
faded into dull browns when we see them in
the late autumn. In the far north only does
it sing, and, according to Audubon, the charming
song is flung to the breeze while the bird
soars like a skylark. In the United States
we hear only its call-note.
Great flocks come down the Atlantic coast
in October and November, and separate into
smaller bands that take up their residence
in sandy stretches and open tracts near the
sea or wherever the food supply looks promising,
and there the larks stay until all the seeds,
buds of bushes, berries, larvae, and insects
in their chosen territory are exhausted.
They are ever conspicuously ground birds,
walkers, and when disturbed at their dinner,
prefer to squat on the earth rather than
expose themselves by flight. Sometimes they
run nimbly over the frozen ground to escape
an intruder, but flying they reserve as a
last resort. When the visitor has passed
they quickly return to their dinner. If they
were content to eat less ravenously and remain
slender, fewer victims might be slaughtered
annually to tickle the palates of the epicure.
It is a mystery what they find to fatten
upon when snow covers the frozen ground.
Even in the severe midwinter storms they
will not seek the protection of the woods,
but always prefer sandy dunes with their
scrubby undergrowth or open meadow lands.
Occasionally a small flock wanders toward
the farms to pick up seeds that are blown
from the hayricks or scattered about the
barn-yard by overfed domestic fowls.
The Prairie Horned Lark (Otocoris alpestris
praticola) is similar to the preceding, but
a trifle smaller and paler, with a white
instead of a yellow streak above the eye,
the throat yellowish or entirely white instead
of sulphur-yellow, and other minor differences.
It has a far more southerly range, confined
to northern portions of the United States
from the Mississippi eastward. Once a distinctly
prairie bird, it now roams wherever large
stretches of open country that suit its purposes
are cleared in the East, and remains resident.
This species also sings in midair on the
wing, but its song is a crude, half-inarticulate
affair, barely audible from a height of two
hundred feet. |
AMERICAN PIPIT
(Anthus pensilvanicus) Wagtail family | Called also: TITLARK; BROWN OR RED LARK
Length -- 6.38 to 7 inches. About the size
of a sparrow. Male and Female -- Upper parts
brown; wings and tail dark olive-brown; the
wing coverts tipped with buff or whitish,
and ends of outer tail feathers white, conspicuous
in flight. White or yellowish eye-ring, and
line above the eye. Underneath light buff
brown, with spots on breast and sides, the
under parts being washed with brown of various
shades. Feet brown. Hind toe-nail as long
as or longer than the toe. Range -- North
America at large. Winters south of Virginia
to Mexico and beyond. Migrations -- April.
October or November. Common in the United
States, chiefly during the migrations.
The color of this bird varies slightly with
age and sex, the under parts ranging from
white through pale rosy brown to a reddish
tinge; but at any season, and under all circumstances,
the pipit is a distinctly brown bird, resembling
the water thrushes not in plumage only, but
in the comical tail waggings and jerkings
that alone are sufficient to identify it.
However the books may tell us the bird is
a wagtail, it certainly possesses two strong
characteristics of true larks: it is a walker,
delighting in walking or running, never hopping
over the ground, and it has the angelic habit
of singing as it flies.
During the migrations the pipits are abundant
in salt marshes or open stretches of country
inland, that, with lark-like preference,
they choose for feeding grounds. When flushed,
all the flock rise together with uncertain
flight, hovering and wheeling about the place,
calling down dee-dee, dee-dee above your
head until you have passed on your way, then
promptly returning to the spot from whence
they were disturbed. Along the roadsides
and pastures, where two or three birds are
frequently seen together, they are too often
mistaken for the vesper sparrows because
of their similar size and coloring, but their
easy, graceful walk should distinguish them
at once from the hopping sparrow. They often
run to get ahead of some one in the lane,
but rarely fly if they can help it, and then
scarcely higher than a fence-rail. Early
in summer they are off for the mountains
in the north. Labrador is their chosen nesting
ground, and they are said to place their
grassy nest, lined with lichens or moss,
flat upon the ground -- still another lark
trait. Their eggs are chocolate-brown scratched
with black. |
WHIPPOORWILL
(Antrostomus vociferus) Goatsucker family
|
[Called also: WHIP-POOR-WILL, AOU 1998]
Length -- 9 to 10 inches. About the size
of the robin. Apparently much larger, because
of its long wings and wide wingspread. Male
-- A long-winged bird, mottled all over with
reddish brown, grayish black, and dusky white;
numerous bristles fringing the large mouth.
A narrow white band across the upper breast.
Tail quills on the end and under side white.
Female -- Similar to male, except that the
tail is dusky in color where that of the
male is white. Band on breast buff instead
of white. Range -- United States, to the
plains. Not common near the sea. Migrations
-- Late April to middle of September. Summer
resident.
The whippoorwill, because of its nocturnal
habits and plaintive note, is invested with
a reputation for occult power which inspires
a chilling awe among superstitious people,
and leads them insanely to attribute to it
an evil influence; but it is a harmless,
useful night prowler, flying low and catching
enormous numbers of hurtful insects, always
the winged varieties, in its peculiar fly-trap
mouth.
It loves the rocky, solitary woods, where
it sleeps all day; but it is seldom seen,
even after painstaking search, because of
its dull, mottled markings conforming so
nearly to rocks and dry leaves, and because
of its unusual habit of stretching itself
length-wise on a tree branch or ledge, where
it is easily confounded with a patch of lichen,
and thus overlooked. If by accident one happens
upon a sleeping bird, it suddenly rouses
and flies away, making no more sound than
a passing butterfly -- a curious and uncanny
silence that is quite remarkable. When the
sun goes down and as the gloaming deepens,
the bird's activity increases, and it begins
its nightly duties, emitting from time to
time, like a sentry on his post or a watchman
of the night, the doleful call which has
given the bird its common name. It
"Mourns unseen, and ceaseless sings
Ever a note of wail and woe,"
that our Dutch ancestors interpreted as "Quote-kerr-kee,"
and so called it. They had a tradition that
no frost ever appeared after the bird had
been heard calling in the spring, and that
it wisely left for warmer skies before frost
came in the autumn. Prudent bird, never caught
napping!
It is erratic in its choice of habitations,
even when rock and solitude seem suited to
its taste. Very rarely is this odd bird found
close to the seashore, and in the Hudson
River valley it keeps a half mile or more
back from the river.
The eggs, generally two in number, are creamy
white, dashed with dark and olive spots,
and laid on the ground on dry leaves, or
in a little hollow in rock or stump -- never
in a nest built with loving care. But in
extenuation of such carelessness it may be
said that, if disturbed or threatened, the
mother shows no lack of maternal instinct,
and removes her young, carrying them in her
beak as a cat conveys her kittens to secure
shelter. |
NIGHTHAWK
(Chordeiles virginianus) Goatsucker family
|
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