[i]

[ii]

[iv]

[v]

[vi]

[vii]

As Curator of the Department of Birds of the American Museum of Natural History I have had exceptional facilities for the arrangement of collections designed to give students a comprehensive view of local bird-life without confusing them with unnecessary details.

Among other aids to this end a collection of 'Birds Found within 50 Miles of New York' has been placed in a special hall and so grouped that the visitor who wishes to identify some bird seen within these limits may do so with the least possible difficulty. In addition to the 'General Systematic Collection,' containing specimens of the 350-odd species of birds which have been recorded from the New York City region, there is also a 'Seasonal Collection.' This Seasonal Collection contains only the birds of the month. Its base is the 'Permanent Resident Birds,' or those which, like the Crow, are with us throughout the year. To these, the migratory species are added or subtracted, as they come or go. The collection of migratory species is therefore revised the first of each month. Birds which are due to arrive during the month are added, those which have left us are withdrawn. The Seasonal Collection thus gives us, at a glance, a picture of the bird-life of the month and correspondingly limits the field of our inquiry when we go to it to learn the name of some strange bird recently observed. In January, therefore, we have not to consider the birds of June, nor need we be concerned with winter birds in summer. The season of occurrence thus gives us an important clue to a bird's identity.[viii]

For somewhat more than a quarter of a century this small collection has achieved its object so effectively that I have attempted to embody the idea it demonstrates in a series of drawings which have been admirably executed by Mr. Edmund Sawyer. As foundation plates or 'collections,' we have first two 'cases' of the winter land birds of the Northeastern States, or from about Maryland northward, containing the Permanent Residents, which form part of the bird-life of every month of the year, and the Winter Visitants, or those birds which come from the North in the fall to remain with us until the following spring.

Cases 3 and 4 contain the Permanent Resident and Winter Visitant land birds of the Southern States. Whether the student is in the North or in the South he has, therefore, a 'collection' of the land birds which he may expect to find during the winter months.

Cases 5 to 8 contain the migrants arranged according to the order of their arrival from the South in the vicinity of New York City. Since it is not practicable to have cases containing collections of migrants for other latitudes, data are given showing what changes in dates should be made to adapt the schedule presented to other localities, including Washington, D.C., Ossining, N.Y., Cambridge, Mass., northern Ohio, Glen Ellyn, near Chicago, and southeastern Minnesota. The records for these localities are quoted from the author's 'Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America' to which they were contributed respectively by Dr. C.W. Richmond, Dr. A.K. Fisher, William Brewster, Lynds Jones, B.T. Gault, and Dr. Thos. S. Roberts.

With these facts, the cases in a large measure tell their own story, just as does our Museum Seasonal Collection; but further to assist the student I have added what may be termed a 'label' for each of the 'specimens' they[ix] contain. These labels include comments on each bird's distinctive characters, a statement of its nesting and winter range, the notes on its status at various localities, to which I have just referred, and brief remarks on its habits.

It is the specimens, however, not the labels, which warrant the publication of this little volume, for I hope that, like their prototypes in the American Museum, they will be a means of acquainting us with "the most eloquent expressions of Nature's beauty, joy and freedom," and thereby add to our lives a resource of incalculable value.

While the birds in the cases are small, they are drawn and reproduced with such accuracy that no essential detail of color or form is lost. Above all, they have the rare merit of being all drawn to nearly the same scale. One will soon learn therefore to measure the proportions of unknown birds by comparison with those with which one is familiar, and since relative size is the most obvious character in naming birds in nature, this is a feature of the first importance.

The student is strongly urged first, to become thoroughly familiar with the 'map' of a bird given in the frontispiece: second, to use an opera- or field-glass when observing birds: third, to write descriptions of unknown birds while they are in view stating their length, shape, and as many details of their color and markings as can be seen: fourth, to remember that one is not likely to find birds except in their regular seasons: and, fifth, to take this book afield with him and make direct comparison of the living bird with its colored figure. The wide margins are designed for use in recording field-notes.

[x]

[xi]

Before a leaf unfolds or a flower spreads its petals, even before the buds swell, and while yet there is snow on the ground, the birds tell us that spring is at hand. The Song Sparrow sings "Spring, spring, spring, sunny days are here"; the Meadowlark blows his fife, the Downy rattles his drum, and company after company of Grackles in glistening black coats, and of Red-wings with scarlet epaulets, go trooping by. For the succeeding three months, in orderly array, the feathered army files by, each member of it at his appointed time whether he comes from the adjoining State or from below the equator.

Besides the Blackbirds, March brings the Robin and Bluebird, Woodcock, Phœbe, Meadowlark, Cowbird, Kingfisher, Mourning Dove, Fox, Swamp, White-throated and Field Sparrows.

Near New York City the New Year of the birds has now passed its infancy and in April each day adds perceptibly to its strength. 'Pussy' willows "creep out along each bough," skunk cabbage rears its head in low, wet woods, and in sun-warmed places early wild flowers peep from beneath the sodden leaves. With swelling ranks the migratory army moves more steadily northward. Species which arrived late in March become more numerous, and to them are soon added the Vesper, Savannah, and Chipping Sparrows, and other seed-eaters; and when, with increasing warmth, insects appear, the pioneer Phœbe is followed by other insect-eating birds, like the Swallows, Pipit, Hermit Thrush, Myrtle and Palm Warblers, Louisiana Water-thrush and Ruby-crowned Kinglet.

The true bird student will now pass every available moment afield, eagerly watching for the return of old[xii] friends and more eagerly still for possible new ones. But enjoyment of this yearly miracle should not be left only to the initiated. We need not be ornithologists to be thrilled when the Robin's song in March awakes long silent echoes, or the Thrasher's solo rings loud and clear on an April morning. The Catbird singing from near his last year's home in the thickening shrubbery, the House Wren whose music bubbles over between bustling visits to an oft-used bird-box, the Chimney Swift twittering cheerily from an evening sky, may be heard without even the effort of listening and each one, with a hundred others, brings us a message if we will but accept it. And I make no fanciful statement when I say that it is a message we can ill afford to lose.

[xiii]

With May come the Thrushes—Wood Thrush, Veery, Olive-back and Gray-cheek, the last two en route to the north—the Orioles, Cuckoos, Vireos, and the Bobolink who began his four thousand mile journey from northern Argentina in March. But May is preëminently the Month of Warblers, "most beautiful, most abundant, and least known" of our birds. To the eight species which have already arrived, there may be added over twenty more, represented by a number of individuals beyond our power to estimate. We may hear the Robin, Thrasher, and Wren, without listening, but we will see few Warblers without looking; and this, in a measure, accounts for the fascination which attends their study.

After May 15 there is an evident thinning in the ranks of the migrating army, and by June 1 we shall see only a few stragglers. The Transient Visitors will have gone to their more northern homes and our bird population will then consist only of the ever present Permanent Residents and the Summer Residents which the great northward march of the birds has brought us from the South.

Although June may be called the Month of Nests, nest-building begins long before the migration ends. Some Owls and Hawks lay in March, and the Bluebird, White-breasted Nuthatch and Robin have eggs by April 20, while most of our birds go to housekeeping during the latter half of May. Nevertheless, it is in June that their domestic life is at its height; and to the student of birds' habits this is by far the most interesting month in the year.

Birds that raise two or even three broods will still be occupied with household affairs in July, but one-brooded birds, having launched their families, will seek retirement to undergo the trying ordeal of molt, whereby they will get a complete new costume. Often this will be quite[xiv] unlike the one in which they arrived from the South—as the student will discover, sometimes to his confusion! In August, the Month of Molt, the seclusion sought by many of our summer birds induces the belief that they have left us, but toward the latter part of the month they reappear. The first week in August virtually marks the end of the song season. The Wood Pewee and Red-eyed Vireo remain in voice throughout the month, but the great chorus which has made May, June and most of July vocal, we shall not hear before another spring—so[xv] short is the time when we are blessed by the songs of birds.

Meanwhile the feathered army has begun its retreat to winter quarters. As early as July 15, Tree Swallows will arrive and by the end of the month will be seen resting in rows on wayside telegraph wires, or en route to their roosts in the marshes. In the now heavily leaved forests the returning Warblers and Flycatchers will not be so easily observed as they were in May, but in September they become too abundant to be overlooked. The southward movement grows in strength until late September, when the greater part of the insect-eating birds have left us, and it is terminated by the frosts, and consequent falling leaves, of October.

But just as in the spring some of the northbound migrants drop from the ranks to spend the summer with us, so in the fall some of the southbound travelers will remain with us for the winter. The Junco, which we are wont to think of as only a winter bird, arrives the latter part of September to remain until April, and with him come the Golden-crowned Kinglet, Brown Creeper and Winter Wren—all to stay until spring. October will bring the Horned Lark, Pine Finch, Snow Bunting, Tree Sparrow and Northern Shrike and these birds with the ones just mentioned, and the ever faithful Permanent Residents, give us a goodly winter company.

But the possibilities do not end here; there may be Redpolls, American and also White-winged Crossbills, perhaps Pine Grosbeaks, and, best of all, Evening Grosbeaks, who of recent years have been coming to us more or less regularly from no man knows where.

So from one year's end to the other, there is not a month, a week or day which has not interests of its own. The bird student may pass his life in one place, but he can never say "I have finished" for the morrow may bring[xvi] some new bird or new fact. How immeasurably this association with the birds adds to the joy of life! What new meanings their comings and goings give to the changing seasons; the very air is made eloquent by their calls and songs. Why should we not all "come at these enchantments"?

[xvii]

[xviii]

[xix]

[xx]

[xxi]

[xxii]

[xxiii]

Permanent Resident species, or those which are present throughout the year, are marked "R." Winter Visitant species, or those which come from the North in the Fall and remain until Spring, are marked "W."

[xxiv]

[xxv]

Permanent Resident species, or those which are present throughout the year, are marked "R." Winter Visitant species, or those which come from the North in the Fall and remain until Spring, are marked "W."

[xxvi]

[xxvii]

The birds are arranged in the order of their arrival from the South in the vicinity of New York City. Nos. 1-19, 22-24, 26, 27, 30, 31, 36-38 winter in the Southern (chiefly Gulf) States. The remainder winter in the tropics and reach the Southern States a month or more before they arrive at New York. Compared with the dates here given for New York City, Washington dates are from ten to fifteen days earlier; Boston, about a week later; northern Ohio, eight to twelve days earlier; northern Illinois, six to ten days earlier; southeastern Minnesota, about the same as those for New York.

[xxviii]

[xxix]

The birds are arranged in the order of their arrival from the South in the vicinity of New York City. Nos. 43, 46, 47, 51, 57, 60-64, 67, 68, 70-72 winter in the Southern (chiefly Gulf) States. The remainder winter in the tropics and reach the Southern States a month or more before they arrive at New York. Compared with the dates here given for New York City, Washington dates are from ten to fifteen days earlier; Boston, about a week later; northern Ohio, eight to twelve days earlier; northern Illinois, six to ten days earlier; southeastern Minnesota, about the same as those for New York.

[xxx]

[xxxi]

[xxxii]

[xxxiii]

[xxxiv]

Note. Measurements are in inches.

[1]

Except when nesting Bob-whites live in flocks or "coveys" usually composed of the members of one family. Their song, heard in spring and summer, is the clear, ringing two- or three-noted whistle which gives them their common name. Their fall and winter notes, which sportsmen term "scatter calls" are signals by which the members of a flock keep within speaking distance of one another. "Where are you?" "Where are you?" they seem to say. As with other protectively colored, ground-inhabiting birds, Bob-whites do not take wing until one[2] almost steps upon them. Then, like a bursting bomb, the covey seems to explode, its brown pieces flying in every direction. The nest is on the ground and the 10-18 white, pear-shaped eggs are laid in May or June.

The Florida Bob-white (C. v. floridanus, Case 3, Figs. 1, 2), a smaller darker race is resident in Florida, except in the northern part of the state. It begins to nest in April.

An unsuspicious inhabitant of swampy coniferous forests. Now rare in the United States. It nests on the ground in June, laying 9-16 eggs, buff, lightly speckled with brown.

On our western plains and prairies there is a Grouse which we call Prairie Hen and we might well apply the[3] name Wood Hen to this Grouse of our forests. To flush a Grouse in the quiet of the woods always makes the "heart jump." His whirring wings not only produce the roar which accompanies his flight, but they are also responsible for the "drumming" which constitutes the Grouse's song as sitting upright on some favorite log, he rapidly beats the air with his wings.

The horny fringes which in winter border the toes of the Grouse, or Partridge, as he is also called, form in effect snow-shoes which help to support the bird on soft snow. At this season they also feed in trees on buds and catkins, and they may roost in trees or seek a bed by plunging into a snow-bank.

The nest, lined with leaves, is placed at the base of a tree or stump; the 8-14 buffy eggs are laid in May.

The Canada Ruffed Grouse (B. u. togata), of northern New England and northwards is grayer above and more distinctly barred below.

The Ruffed Grouse sounds his rolling, muffled drum-call in the seclusion of the forest, but the Prairie Hen beats his loud boom-ah-boom in the open freedom of the plains. Hardy and strong of wing, he can cope with winter storms and natural enemies, but against the combined assault of man, dog, and gun, he cannot successfully contend.

About a dozen buff-olive eggs are laid on the ground in April or early May.[4]

This is a close relative of the Prairie Hen, having the black neck-tuft of less than ten feathers with pointed, not rounded, ends. It is now found only on the Island of Martha's Vineyard, but formerly inhabited plains or barrens, locally, from New Jersey to Massachusetts. It nests in June.

Our domestic Turkey is descended from the Mexican Wild Turkey and like that race has the upper tail-coverts and tail tipped with whitish, whereas in our eastern Wild Turkey these tips are chestnut. The nest is on the ground and 10-14 eggs, pale cream-color finely speckled with brownish, are laid in April.

The Florida Wild Turkey (M. g. osceola), of southern Florida, is smaller and the white bars on the primaries are narrower and more broken.[5]

Doves are particularly common in the southern states where, ranked as game-birds, they are shot in large numbers. The Wild Pigeon's note was an explosive squawk; the Dove's is a soft, mournful coo-oo-ah, coo-o-o-coo-o-o-coo-o-o-. During the winter, Doves are usually found in small flocks but, unlike the Wild Pigeon, they nest in scattered pairs. The nest is in a tree or on the ground. Two white eggs are laid in April.

This dainty, miniature Pigeon is common in southern gardens and old fields. It runs gracefully before one, and when flushed rises with a whirring flight but soon alights, usually on the ground. Its call is a crooning coo. The nest is placed on the ground and in low trees and bushes. Two white eggs are laid in March.

The 'Turkey Buzzard' has a wider wing-stretch and is a better aviator than the Black Vulture. It is more a bird of the country than the last-named species which is the common Vulture of the streets in many southern cities. Extremely graceful in the air, it is far from pleasing when at rest. The two dull white, brown-marked eggs are laid on the ground under logs, in crevices in rocks, etc., in March in Florida, in April in Virginia.[7]

The Vulture of southern cities; a frequenter of slaughter houses and markets. In flight the under surfaces of the wing look silvery. It is by no means so impressive a figure in the air as the Turkey Vulture. Two pale bluish white eggs, generally with brown markings, are laid on the ground under logs, bushes, palmettoes, etc., in March and April.

Color, form, grace, and power of motion combine to make the flight of the Swallow-tail an impressive demonstration of the bird's mastery of the air. It feeds on lizards and small snakes which it captures when on the wing from the branches of trees. The nest is placed in the upper branches of tall trees, 2-3 eggs heavily marked with brown being laid in Florida in April; in Iowa in June.[8]

This is a rare bird east of the Mississippi. It frequents open marshy places and feeds upon small snakes, lizards, grasshoppers, etc., which it captures on the ground. The nest is built in trees, and the 3-5 eggs, heavily marked with brown, are laid in May.

A low-flying hunter of insects, snakes and frogs. It migrates in loose flocks sometimes near the earth, at others far above it. The nest is placed in tall trees. The eggs are laid in May; they number 1-3, and are dull white, occasionally with a bluish tinge.

The Everglade Kite is found in marshes and about lakes and ponds hunting for its favorite food of large snails, which it extracts from their shells by means of its hooked[9] bill. It is rarely seen north of southern Florida. The nest is placed in bushes or among reeds. The 2-3 eggs, which are heavily marked with brown, are laid in March.

The Marsh Hawk quarters low over the fields turning sharply here and there to follow the course of a meadow mouse in the grass forest below. As a rule the bird is silent but in the mating season he repeats a 'screeching' note. The nest is made on the ground in the marshes; the 4-6 white eggs are laid in May.

This small, bird-killing Hawk dashes recklessly after its victims, following them through thick cover. It is[10] less often seen in the open than the Sparrow Hawk, which it resembles in size, but from which it may be known by its different color, longer tail, and much shorter wings. It nests in trees 15-40 feet from the ground. The eggs, 3-6 in number, are bluish white or cream, marked with brown and are laid in May.

This is the real 'Chicken Hawk,' but it is less often seen and heard than the soaring, screaming Buteos to which the name is usually applied. It resembles the Sharp-shinned in habits but being larger may prey on larger birds. The female may be easily distinguished from the[11] Sharp-shinned by her larger size, but the male is not appreciably larger than a female Sharp-shin.

The nest is built in a tree 25-50 feet up. The bluish white, rarely spotted eggs are laid in late April or early May.

Like its smaller relatives the Sharp-shin and Cooper's Hawks, this powerful raptor is a relentless hunter of birds. It is particularly destructive to Ruffed Grouse. Fortunately it does not often visit us in numbers. It nests in trees, laying 2-5 white eggs, rarely marked with brownish, in April.

[12]

The Red-tail resembles the Red-shoulder in general habits, but it is more a bird of the fields, where it may be seen perched on the limb of a dead tree or similar exposed situation. Its note, a long-drawn, squealing whistle, is quite unlike that of the Red-shoulder. The Red-tail feeds chiefly on mice and other small mammals. With the Red-shoulder it is often called 'Chicken Hawk,' but does not deserve the name. It nests in trees 30-70 feet up and in April lays 2-4 eggs, dull white sparingly marked with brown.

A medium-sized, heavy-bodied Hawk with wings which, when closed, reach well toward the tip of the tail. It lives both in the woods and open places, and may be flushed from the border of a brook or seen soaring high in the air. Its note, frequently uttered, as it swings in wide circles, is a distinctive Kèe-you, Kèe-you, quite unlike the call of any of our other Hawks. It is often well imitated by the Blue Jay. The Red-shoulder feeds chiefly on mice and frogs. It nests in trees 30-60 feet up and, in April, lays 3-5 eggs, white marked with brown.

The Florida Red-shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus alleni), a smaller form with grayer head and paler underparts, is a resident in Florida and along the coast from South Carolina to Mexico. It nests in February.

A rather retiring, unwary Hawk which nests in thick woods and is less often seen in the open than the Red-shoulder, but, when migrating, hundreds pass high in the air, with other Hawks. Its call is a high, thin, penetrating[14] whistle. It nests in late April and early May, laying 2-4 whitish eggs marked with brown.

Frequents fields and marshes, where it hunts to and fro after mice, which form its principal fare.

The Golden Eagle is so rare in the eastern United States and its general resemblance to a young Bald Eagle is so close, that only an experienced ornithologist could convince me that he had seen a Golden Eagle east of the Mississippi.

An adult Bald Eagle will at once be recognized by its white head and tail; the immature birds by their large size. Eagles are usually found near the water where fish may be obtained either on the shore or from the Osprey. The call of the male is a human-like, loud, clear cac-cac-cac; that of the female is said to be more harsh and often broken. Eagles nest in tall trees and on cliffs, and lay two or three dull white eggs, in Florida, in November and December; in Maine, in April.

These great Falcons are so rare in the United States that unless they are seen by an experienced observer, under exceptionally favorable conditions, authentic records of their visits can be based only on the actual capture of specimens.[16]

As the Peregrine of falconry we know of the Duck Hawk as a fearless, dashing hunter of greater power of wing and talon. It nests in rocky cliffs in April and from its eyrie darts upon passing Pigeons and other birds. It is most often seen following the coast-line during migrations where it takes toll of Ducks and shore-birds. Three to four heavily marked, brownish eggs are laid in April.

We know this Hawk as a not common migrant generally seen in open places and along the shores. It feeds chiefly on small birds.[17]

The Sparrow Hawk is one of our commonest and most familiar Hawks. He is a handsome little Falcon, and though his prey is chiefly humble grasshoppers, he captures them in a sportsmanlike manner by "waiting on" or hovering on rapidly beating wings over his game and dropping on it with deadly aim. His call is a high, rapidly repeated Killy-killy-killy. The three to seven eggs, finely marked with reddish brown, are laid in a hollow limb or similar situation in April.[18]

In the eastern United States the Caracara is found only in the Kissimmee prairie region of southern Florida where its presence, so far from others of its kind, furnishes one of the problems in distribution which stimulate the imagination of the faunal naturalist.

The Osprey, or Fish Hawk, feeds on fish and nothing but fish. He is, therefore, never found far from his fishing grounds, where no one who has seen him plunge for his prey and rise with it from the water will doubt his ability to supply his wants. Ospreys usually nest in trees at varying distances from the ground, but sometimes on cliffs or even on the ground itself, and return year after year to the same nest. The Osprey's alarm note is a high, loud, complaining whistle, frequently repeated. The eggs are[19] laid in late April and early May. They are usually four in number, buffy white, heavily marked with chocolate.

This is the 'Monkey-faced Owl' of towers and steeples. Few who hear its loud, sudden scream or rapidly repeated crree-crree-crree know their author, who may live for years in the heart of a village a stranger to its human inhabitants. The mice, however, have tragic evidence of his presence in the nightly raids he makes upon their ranks. The nest is made in the diurnal retreat, 5-9 white eggs being laid in April.

An Owl of evergreen clumps and dense growths, where its presence is often betrayed by the litter below of undigested[20] pellets of hair and bones which Owls eject at the mouth. It is not a "hoot" Owl, and even many ornithologists have not heard its notes, which are described as a "soft-toned, slow wu-hunk, wu-hunk, and a low twittering, whistling dicky, dicky, dicky." It is not a hole-inhabiting Owl and like the Great Horned nests in an old Hawk, Crow, or Squirrel nest. Three to six white eggs are laid in April.

This is a marsh Owl and we are therefore not likely to find it associated with other members of its family. Its notes are said to resemble the ki-yi of a small dog. Four to seven white eggs are laid in an open nest in the grasses in April.

[21]

An Owl of the woods, common in the less thickly settled parts of its range. Its loud, sonorous notes, whoo, whoo-whoo who-whoo, to-whoo-ah, are often uttered. When two birds come together their united calls produce some of the most startling sounds to be heard in nature. The Barred Owl feeds chiefly on mice. It nests in hollow trees in March, laying 2-4 white eggs.

A tame little Owl which sometimes may be caught in one's hand. It passes the day in dense growth, usually[22] evergreens. Its note resembles the "sound made when a large-tooth saw is being filed."

This, the smallest of our 'horned' Owls, is also the commonest. It lives near and sometimes in our homes even when they are situated in towns. Its tremulous, wailing whistle (in no sense a 'screech') is therefore one of our most characteristic twilight bird-notes. Mice and insects form the greater part of the Screech Owl's fare. Four to six white eggs are laid in a hollow tree, bird-box, or similar site in April.

The Great Horned Owl retreats before the civilization that destroys the forests in which it lives. In thinly[23] settled regions its deep-toned, monotone, whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo, whooo, whooo is still a characteristic bird voice, but most of us hear it only when we camp in the wilderness. The bird's fierce nature has won for it the name of "tiger among birds." Rabbits, skunks, game birds and smaller prey form its fare. The 2-3 white eggs are laid in an abandoned Hawk, Crow, or squirrel nest in February; it is the first of our northern birds to nest.

A rare winter visitant which is more often seen along the seashore. Unlike most Owls it hunts by day, feeding chiefly on mice but also on birds.

"The Hawk Owl is strictly diurnal, as much so as any of the Hawks, and like some of them often selects a tall shrub or dead-topped tree in a comparatively open place for a perch, where it sits in the bright sunlight watching for its prey" (Fisher).[24]

This is a representative of our western Burrowing Owl, which, in some way unknown to man, has established itself far from others of its kind in central southern Florida, where it is locally common. It nests in a hole in the ground, excavated by itself, and lays 5-7 white eggs in March.

The Paroquet has paid the penalty of wearing bright plumes, of making a desirable cage-bird, of being destructive to fruit, and of having little fear of man. Once abundant and wide-spread, for nearly the past half a century it has been restricted to Florida, where the species will[25] soon go out of existence, if it has not already done so. Its nesting habits are unknown.

Cuckoos are common birds, but are more often heard than seen. Their notes are not like those of the cuckoo clock, which exactly imitates the voice of the European Cuckoo, but a series of cuck-cuck-cucks and cow-cows repeated a varying number of times. The Cuckoo rarely makes long flights but slips from one tree to another, seeking at once the inner branches and avoiding an exposed perch. The nest, a platform of sticks, thinly covered, is placed in low trees or bushes. The 3-5 greenish blue eggs are laid in May.

The day after penning the foregoing notes on the Yellow-billed Cuckoo, I saw a Black-bill make a prolonged, dashing flight through the open, alight on the limb of a dead, leafless tree, directly over a young girl who was calling loudly to an active dog near her, and from this conspicuous perch utter its low coo-coo notes, both looking and sounding more like a Dove than a conventional Cuckoo. So while we may say that the Cuckoos are much alike in habits one must not accept generalized statements too literally. There is much individuality among birds, a fact that makes their study far more interesting than if all were cast in the same mold.

The notes of this species are softer than those of the Yellow-bill, but the difference between the calls of the two species must be learned from the birds, not from books. The nest of the Black-bill is the more compactly built of the two, and its eggs are of a deeper shade.

The Belted Kingfisher is a watchman of the waterways who sounds his loud rattle when we trespass on his territory, a gallant fisherman, who, like a Falcon 'waits on' with fluttering wing, and the moment his aim is taken plunges headlong with a splash on some fish that has ventured too near the surface.

The nest is made at the end of a burrow in a bank; 5-8 white eggs are laid in May.

When man appears, the Ivory-bill disappears. This is not alone due to the destruction of the birds' haunts but to the bird's shy, retiring nature. Its days are numbered even more surely than are those of the forests it inhabits.

The nesting cavity is usually made in a cypress some forty feet from the ground, and 3-5 white eggs are laid in March.[28]

The Hairy is not so common as his small cousin the Downy, and does not so readily make friends. He prefers the woods to our orchards and is for these reasons less often seen at our feeding-stands. The Hairy's notes are noticeably louder than the Downy's. The nest-hole is usually in a dead tree. The 2-4 white eggs are laid the last half of April.

Our commonest Woodpecker; an alert, active little driller for insects and their eggs and larvæ, and frequent[29] visitor to our lunch-counters, particularly if we supply them with suet. His sharp peek, peek, running at times into a diminishing string of peeks, and his rolling tatoo, as he pounds a limb with amazing rapidity, are prominent parts of every-day bird language, the tatoo being a 'song' of the breeding season.

Four to six white eggs are laid in a hole, usually in a dead tree, the first week in May. The Southern Downy nests in April.

An inhabitant of the pine woods, who utters a coarse yank-yank note and may at times be seen feeding from the terminal tufts of pine 'needles' in the higher branches. The nest is usually in a living pine; the 2-5 white eggs are laid in April.

An inhabitant of the spruce and balsam forests of our northern states, occasionally straggling southward in winter. Nests in May.[30]

Not so common as the Arctic Three-toed Woodpecker, and less often found south of its breeding range. Nests in early June.

This is the mysterious maker of the rows of little holes drilled in even lines, like hieroglyphics, on the trunks of apple and other trees. Using his brush-tipped tongue as a swab, he drinks the sap that oozes from these punctures.

As a migrant the Yellow-belly is not conspicuous. His business takes him into the heart of living trees and he is usually seen only when flying from one to another. His low 'snarling' note attracts the attention of only the observant.

The nest-hole is 25-40 feet up; the 5-7 white eggs are laid in May.[31]

In the south the Pileated is by no means rare and seems not averse to the presence of man; but in the north he retires to the wilder forested areas and we are apt to see him only when we go a-camping. And he is well worth seeing with his flaming crest and powerful bill which, used either as a chisel or drum-stick, produces impressive results. Strangely enough the Pileated's notes resemble those of the Flicker but are louder.

The nest is usually well up; the 3-5 white eggs are laid in April in the south, in May in the north.

Adding to the normal habits of a Woodpecker marked skill as a flycatcher, the Red-head stops his grub-hunting[32] and swings out after a passing insect with a dazzling display of red, white and blue-black. Noisy as he is conspicuous, he beats his log-drum, rolls a tree toad-like krrring, or, with tireless persistency utters a whistled croak. In the northeastern states Red-heads are distributed irregularly. They are rarely common in the summer, but in the fall they sometimes appear in numbers. Whenever they come we are soon aware of their presence.

The nest is generally in a dead tree; the 4-6 white eggs are laid in May.

A common, hoarse-voiced resident of orange groves and gardens who with a chuh-chuh, jerkily hitches himself upward in the routine of the daily grub hunt. It is rare at the northern part of its range, but resident wherever found. The nest is in dead or living trees; the 4-6 white eggs are laid in late April or early May.

Thirty years ago the Flicker, High-hole or Yellow-hammer, was prey of any boy with a gun and was correspondingly wild and little known; now, thanks to the Audubon Society, he is almost as domestic as the Robin. In search of ants and their eggs, he hunts our lawns and even accepts the hospitality of our nest-logs. A great acquisition to our dooryard life is this bird of beautiful colors, quaint habits, and strange notes. His loud, strongly accented call, kée-yer, his rapidly repeated mellow weéchew, weéchew, possess character even if they lack musical quality.

The Flicker nests in holes and lays from 5-9 white eggs in late April or early May.

What the Whip-poor-will is to the north the Chuckwill is to the south. The difference in their names expresses[34] the syllabic difference in their calls, but the Chuckwill's notes are uttered more evenly and lack the marked accent on the first "Whip" of its northern cousin's song.

The Chuckwill lays its two eggs in April on the ground in the woods, where it lives. They are white with delicate lilac markings and a few brownish spots.

A mysterious, silent, flitting shadow, should we chance to arouse it from its sleep in the forest by day, at dusk the Whip-poor-will takes the center of the stage and announces his presence to the world. Whiṕ-poor-will, whiṕ-poor-will he calls with a snap and a swinging rhythm that makes the twilight ring with the oft-repeated notes.

Two eggs are laid on the ground in the woods in May. They are dull white with delicate obscure lilac markings, and a few brownish gray spots.

Doubtless because we see the Nighthawk and only hear the Whip-poor-will the notes of the latter have been often attributed to the former, with the result that many people think there is but one species. While it is true that there is a general resemblance in form, in details of color and markings, the two birds are quite unlike, while so far as notes and habits are concerned, few members of the same family differ more. The Whip-poor-will haunts the shadows of the woods and rarely flies far above the ground, the Nighthawk, like a Swift, courses high in the open, even over city house-tops, where anyone who looks may see him. The Whip-poor-will's notes have made him famous, the Nighthawk calls only a nasal peent, peent, and, diving earthward on set wings, produces a hollow, booming sound. Both nest on the ground, but the Nighthawk lays in the fields or on pebbly roofs, and its two finely marked eggs (laid in May or June) are quite unlike those of the Whip-poor-will.

A twittering courser of evening skies who makes his home in our chimneys. Here the bracket-like nest of dead twigs is attached to the bricks by the bird's saliva, to be loosened, at times, after heavy rains and fall to the fire-place below. In the fall great flocks roost in chimneys, generally large ones, returning night after night.

The 4-6 white eggs are laid in May.

Any Hummingbird seen east of the Mississippi may, with confidence, be called a Ruby-throat; exceptions will probably prove to be sphinx moths, which, it must be confessed, look singularly hummingbird-like as they hover before flowers. When the eggs are laid the male deserts the female, leaving to her the task of incubation and care of the young.

The nest, most exquisite of bird homes, is saddled to a limb usually 15 or more feet up. The two bean-like white eggs are laid in May.[37]

A valiant defender of his home who, at the approach of Crow or Hawk, utters his steely, chattering, battle-cry and sallies forth to attack. Fearlessly he plunges down on an enemy many times his size who dodging this way and that beats a hasty retreat before his active, aggressive assailant. In the fall migration Kingbirds gather in loose flocks.

The nest is placed near the end of a branch about 20 feet up; the 3-5 white eggs spotted with dark brown, are laid in May.

A not uncommon summer resident in parts of Florida and the coastal region of Georgia and South Carolina, with the general habits and appearance of our Kingbird,[38] but with a quite different call which suggests the words pitírri-pitírri. It nests in May, laying four salmon-colored eggs, marked with dark brown and lilac.

A character of the woods distinguished alike by appearance, voice and habits. His crested head seems too big for his body; his exclamatory whistle, which sounds like a shout above a monotone of conversation, his habit of always lining his nest with a cast-off snake skin, all mark him as an odd genius. Even his wife's eggs, with their long chocolate streaks, are quite unlike any other birds' eggs. They are laid in a hole in a tree in May or June.

[39]

The Phœbe is the best known member of a group of small Flycatchers which the beginner, and not infrequently the advanced student, names with more or less uncertainty. Fortunately for the field student, and as if to compensate for their close resemblance in plumage, they all possess distinctive, quite unlike, and easily recognizable calls, and consequently can readily be identified by their voices if not by their colors.

The Phœbe shows so marked a fondness for our society, nesting under our piazzas, in barns or outbuildings, and calls his pewit-phœbe so plainly, wagging his tail the while in a friendly, sociable kind of a way, that there is never any doubt about his identity; but we will not make the acquaintance of his less common, less confiding relatives so readily.

The Phœbe's 4-6 white eggs (rarely with a few brown spots) are laid the latter half of April.

To most of us the Olive-sided is known as a rare migrant passing northward in May, among the later transients, and southward in September. When traveling the bird retains the fondness of its kind for perching on tall tree-tops, but its loud, unmistakable, whistled "come right here, come right here" is usually heard only on the nesting ground.[40]

The nest is placed in coniferous trees about 25 feet up, and 3-5 white, brown-spotted eggs are laid in June.

In color Phœbe and Pewee are much alike and both are Flycatchers, but the resemblance ends there. Pewee loves the solitude of the forest rather than the sociability of the barnyard, and his pensive pee-a-wee does not even suggest the business-like pewit-phœbe of his better-known cousin. Nor does his dainty lichen-covered nest saddled so skillfully on the limb of a forest tree, recall the Phœbe's bulky moss and mud dwelling. Finally, the Pewee's eggs, laid in May, are wreathed with brown.

[41]

Known chiefly as a not common migrant who visits our woods on his journey to and from his northern home. He is a silent traveler and gives no clue to his identity by calling or singing, but his underparts are so much yellower than those of any other of our small Flycatchers that they make a definite field character. Nests in coniferous forests on the ground, laying 4 white, lightly spotted eggs in June.

On the low-sweeping limb of a beech over a stream is an ideal site for the frail nest of the Acadian. The bird is never found far from it and its low-ranging habits permit us to see its characteristic markings and hear its peculiar sudden, explosive little pee-e-yúk and more commonly uttered spee or peet.

The creamy white, brown-spotted eggs are laid the latter part of May.

A rare recluse of the alders who, traveling silently between his summer and his winter homes, makes few friends among men. Dwight describes its call note as "a single pep," and its song as ee-zee-e-up, resembling that of the Acadian. The bird places the nest low down in the crotch of one of the bushes among which it lives and lays 3-4 white, brown-spotted eggs in June.

A Flycatcher of lawns and orchard, seldom going far from the tree in which its nest with its white eggs is placed. A dry-voiced little bird whose unmusical, but distinctly uttered chebéc, chebéc makes up in character what it lacks in sweetness. Between whiles he swings out for a passing insect only to call chebéc, chebéc, chebéc when he returns to his perch.[43]

A bird of open places—shores, plains, and prairies, and roadways—who runs (not hops) nimbly ahead of one, or, with a short note, rises, and on its long, pointed wings, flies on ahead. He usually returns to the ground, but may alight on a fence; his long hind toe-nail not being suited to grasping a small perch. The weak, twittering song is uttered on the wing, when the bird, like its relative the Skylark, mounts into the air. It also sings from a perch near the ground.

The Prairie Horned Lark is the first of our small birds to nest, making its home on the ground and laying four finely speckled eggs early in March. After the nesting season the birds gather in flocks.[44]

If the Blue Jay were as good as he is beautiful he would be our most popular bird. But fine feathers do not always make fine birds, and to those who judge birds by human standards the Blue Jay's loud, harsh voice, overbearing manners, and nest-robbing habits are unpardonable. With all his faults, however, the true bird enthusiast loves him still. His bright colors, dashing ways and intelligence win our admiration and we feel honored when he makes his home near ours, building in early May a well-made nest in a tree-crotch, for the reception of the 4-6 olive-green, thickly speckled eggs.

This is the 'Scrub-Jay' of Florida and is not to be confused with the Florida Blue Jay. It lives in districts[45] where scrub palmetto grows, but also comes into gardens and grows where it soon responds to proper treatment and becomes semi-domesticated. It nests early in April.

It is singular that the Canada Jay at the north and the Florida Jay in the south should show exceptional confidence in man, while the Blue Jay always seems to regard him with suspicion. The very day we make camp in the north woods the Canada Jay or Whiskey Jack becomes our guest. As though assured of a welcome he fearlessly joins our party, helping himself to such supplies as please his fancy. Long before our arrival, when snow still covered the ground, he has reared his family and for the rest of the year has only his own wants to fill.

Crows caw, while Ravens croak; but to be sure that you have actually seen a Raven he should be with Crows, when the Raven's much larger size is evident. Unless, however, you should visit the few localities in the eastern States where Ravens live you are not likely to make the bird's acquaintance. Ravens nest on cliffs as well as in trees.[46] Their eggs, which resemble those of the Crow in color, are laid in April.

The Crow and the Robin are probably the best known of all our birds. The former we treat as an enemy and the latter as a friend, and one therefore is as wild as the other is tame. Whether the Crow deserves to be outlawed has not as yet been decided. But we should not condemn him out of court and let us remember that as an intelligent, self-respecting citizen, who animates wintry wastes with his shining sable form and clarion call, he has other than economic claims to our consideration. The nest is placed in a tree about 30 feet up, and 4-6 eggs, green thickly marked with brownish are laid in April.

The Florida Crow (C. b. pascuus) is very near the northern bird, but has the wings and tail smaller, the bill and feet larger. It lives chiefly in the pine barrens of Florida and is much less common in the state than the Fish Crow.

In life the Fish Crow may be distinguished from the common Crow by its smaller size and hoarser voice. The difference in size, however, is evident only when the two are together, but once the cracked, reedy car (not caw) of the Fish Crow has been learned the species may always be identified when heard. It is somewhat like the note of a young Crow, but less immature. The nest and eggs are much like those of the common Crow. The eggs are laid in May.

A long-drawn whistle, such as one calls to a dog, is the Starling's most common note, but it has many others. It nests in April, often after quarreling with Flickers for possession of a nest-hole in which to lay its pale bluish eggs. The young appear in mid-May and their harsh, rasping food-call is a common note for several weeks; then the birds begin to gather in companies which, later, form flocks of thousands.[48]

A bird with a dual personality; welcome minstrel of the meadows when nesting, dread scourge of the rice-fields when traveling. With the loss of his trim suit of black, white, and buff, Bob loses also his merry tinkling, rippling song, and acquires with his streaked Reedbird suit a single watchword. Tink, tink he calls from somewhere overhead, and tink, tink his comrades answer as they follow a trackless path through the sky on their 5000-mile journey.

The nest is placed on the ground and 4-7 grayish, blotched eggs are laid late in May or early in June.

Outlaws among birds, they pair not neither do they build. Without moral standards or maternal instincts the female accepts the attention of any male that chances to win her fancy and deposits her eggs in the nests of other birds. She is a slacker and a shirker, who keeps much in the background during the breeding season. Color, habit, his sliding, glassy whistle, and guttural gurgling, make the male conspicuous. Leaving the care of their foster parents the young join others of their kind and flock in the grainfields or about cattle in the pastures.

Hanging their cradle nest in the quill-reeds or rushes, the Yellow-heads are not found far from it until the young take wing. The male entertains his mate with a variety of strange calls and whistles, but leaves to her the hatching of the brown speckled eggs and care of the young while they are in the nest. Like other Blackbirds they migrate and winter in flocks.

The Red-wing's mellow kong-quer-reee is as certain an indication of the presence of water as is the piping of frogs in the spring. It may be only a bit of boggy marshland, it may be a reedy lakeside, but water there will surely be. On a frequented perch he half spreads his wings, fluffs out his scarlet epaulets, bursting into bloom, as it were, when he utters his notes—a singing flower! The nest is in the alders, button-bushes, or reeds, or even on the ground, and although the birds come in March, their pale blue, spotted, blotched, and scrawled eggs are not laid until May. Except when nesting, Red-wings live in flocks.

The Meadowlark is a fifer of the fields, whose high, clear whistle is one of the most welcome bird songs of early spring. In May, when nesting, it often sings an ecstatic twittering warble on the wing. The alarm calls are an unmusical dzit or yert and a string of beady, metallic notes.

The nest is placed on the ground. The 4-6 eggs are white, speckled with brown.

With the general appearance and habits of the Eastern Meadowlark, but differing in its call-notes and song. Instead of the sharp dzit or yert and metallic twitter of the eastern bird, the western species calls chuck, chuck, followed by a rolling b-r-r-r-. The eastern bird plays the fife but the western uses the flute, and its bubbling grace-notes are easily distinguishable from the straight whistling of its eastern cousin.

In the northern part of its range, the Orchard Oriole is somewhat less common, and more local than the Baltimore Oriole, while its duller colors and more retiring habits make is more difficult to see. The voice is richer, more cultured—if one may use the term—than that of its brilliant orange-plumed cousin; indeed, in my opinion, this species deserves a place in the first rank of our songsters. The nest of finely woven grasses is not so deep as that of the Baltimore. Three to five bluish white eggs, spotted and scrawled with black, are laid the latter part of May.

This is the orange-and-black whistler of our fruit and shade trees, whose wife skillfully weaves a pendant cradle at the end of some drooping branch, therein to lay her white eggs curiously marked with fine lines and blotches of black. The young, after leaving the nest in June, have a loud, babyish food-call, dee-dee-dee-dee, repeated time after time until their wants are satisfied.

This is the least conspicuous of our Blackbirds. It nests chiefly north of the United States, migrates in small flocks, and is less noisy than the Red-wing or Grackle and not so much in evidence as the Cowbird. Dwight describes its notes as "a confused medley of whistles, sweeter and higher-pitched than those of the Red-wing." It nests in May, building in coniferous trees or near the ground, and laying 4-7 greenish eggs, heavily marked with brown and purple.

The Florida Grackle (Quiscalus quiscula aglæus, Case 4, Fig. 74) is smaller than the Purple Grackle and has the head and neck violet-purple, the back bottle-green. It is resident in Florida and the Gulf States north to South Carolina.

The Bronzed Grackle (Quiscalus quiscula œneus, Case 5, Fig. 2) is the same size as the Purple Grackle, but has[54] the body bronzy without iridescent markings. It nests from Texas up the Mississippi Valley and eastward through central New York and Massachusetts to New Brunswick, north to Canada; and in migration is found in the range of the Purple Grackle. It winters from the Ohio Valley southward.

The Grackle is the largest of our northern Blackbirds. In the south it is exceeded in size only by the Boat-tailed Grackle. It migrates in flocks and nests in colonies, often in parks and cemeteries. It feeds chiefly on the ground and is frequently seen upon our lawns when it may be known by its rather waddling, walking gait, and its long tail. Its notes are harsh, cracked and discordant, but when heard in chorus make a pleasing medley. The nest is sometimes placed in pines about 30 feet up, but also in bushes and even in holes in trees. The 3-7 eggs are usually pale bluish, heavily blotched and scrawled with brown and black.

This giant Grackle frequents lakes, lagoons and bays, where it feeds along the shore or among aquatic plants. The male, a poseur among birds, strikes strange attitudes with bill pointing skyward, and with apparent effort forces out hoarse whistles. The female is quiet and[55] unassuming. They nest in colonies, building in bushes and laying in April 3-5 bluish white eggs, strikingly blotched and scrawled with blackish.

The Evening Grosbeak is a notable traveler from the far northwest whose rare, irregular, and unheralded visits[56] and striking appearance make him always a welcome and distinguished guest. Of recent years these birds have come to the east with greater frequency, arriving in November and remaining as late as May. They feed largely on the buds and seeds of trees—maple and box-elder—and can often be attracted to our feeding-stations by the offer of sunflower seeds. They are usually associated in flocks of from six to eight to ten birds, and their notes when perching, have been described as resembling the jingle of small sleigh-bells, while their song is said to be a "wandering jerky warble."

In the summer the Pines Grosbeak lives in coniferous forests, but on its irregular wanderings southward, like the Evening Grosbeak, it feeds upon the seeds of deciduous trees and bushes. The Grosbeak's call-note is a clear whistle of three or four notes which may be easily imitated; its song is said to be prolonged and melodious.

The Pine and Evening Grosbeaks would be notable figures in any gathering of birds, but coming at the most barren time of the year when our bird population is at the minimum and the trees are leafless, they are as welcome as they are conspicuous.[57]

Erratic wanderers which travel on no fixed schedule but seem to feel at home wherever they find themselves. Except when nesting, they usually live in small flocks which, if the fare of our feeding-stands please them, will sometimes live with us for weeks. The call-note is creak-creak, the song a flowing, musical warble often uttered in detached fragments. Four to six bluish, spotted eggs are laid in May; the nest being generally built in a coniferous tree.

Hardy, pugnacious and adaptable, the Sparrow is a notable success in the bird world. We could overlook his objectionable traits if he possessed a pleasant voice, but his harsh, discordant notes and incessant chatter are unfortunately in harmony with his character. After all he gives a welcome touch of life to city streets and yards.[58] Sparrows' nests are made of almost anything the birds can carry and built in any place that will hold them. The 4-7 finely speckled eggs are laid as early as March, and several broods are raised.

Crossbills and Grosbeaks are among winter's chief attractions. While the latter, as I have said above, will leave their summer homes in coniferous forests to feed in winter on the seeds of deciduous trees, the Crossbills are less adaptable. They are specialists in cone-dissecting. Their singularly shaped bills prevent them from eating many kinds of food available to other birds, but no other birds can compete with them in extracting the seeds from cones. Having had too limited an experience with man to have learned to fear him, they are so surprisingly tame that I have known birds to be plucked from trees as one would pick off the cones on which they were feeding. In March, while the ground is still snow-covered, they lay 3-4 pale greenish, spotted eggs in a well-formed nest, 15-30 feet up in a coniferous tree.

A rarer bird than the American Crossbill which, however, it resembles in habits. Both climb about the branches of cone-bearing trees like little Parrots, while feeding keep up a low conversational chatter, and take wing with a clicking note. They have been found nesting in Nova Scotia as early as February 6.

A winter visitor from the far North whose coming never can be foretold. Years may pass without seeing them, then late some fall, they may appear in numbers. They are usually in flocks and feed upon seeds as well as birch and alder catkins. In notes and general habits the Redpoll resembles the Goldfinch.

Holbœll's Redpoll (A. holbœlli) is a slightly larger race, with a longer, more slender bill. It is a more northern form than the preceding, and rarely visits the United States. The Greater Redpoll (A. l. rostrata ) is also larger than the common Redpoll, but has a shorter, stouter bill. It nests in Greenland and is of casual occurrence in the northern United States. The Hoary Redpoll (A. hornemanni exilipes) is a whiter bird than the preceding[60] with no streaks on the rump and comparatively few on the underparts. It nests within the Arctic Circle and rarely visits the northern United States in winter.

Satisfactory identification of these races of the Redpoll can be made only by expert examination of specimens. The field student, however, may call any Redpoll he sees the Common Redpoll with the chances of being right largely in his favor.

A beautiful, musical, cheerful bird, as sweet of disposition as he is of voice. To hear a merry troop of Goldfinches singing their spring chorus is to hear the very spirit of the season set to music. Their call-note is a questioning dearie, dearie, their flight-call per-chié-o-ree, per-chié-o-ree, as in long undulations they swing through the air. Their song is suggestive of a Canary's. They are late housekeepers, not nesting before the latter half of June, when 3-6 pale bluish white eggs are laid in a nest warmly lined with plant down.

The Siskin belongs in the group of winter visitants whose coming cannot be foretold. Some years it is rare or wanting, others abundant, a flock sometimes, containing several hundred birds. In general habits it resembles the Goldfinch, feeding on weed seeds and catkins, particularly of the alder, and on the seeds of conifers. The call-note is a high e-eep; its song like that of the Goldfinch but less musical.

Snow Buntings live in flocks and love open places, such as Horned Larks frequent, and are often found with them in fields or along the shore. Like the Horned Larks they are walkers, not hoppers, and like most walkers, it is exceptional for them to perch in trees. Hoffman described their notes as "a high, sweet, though slightly mournful tee, or tee-oo, a sweet rolling whistle, and a harsh bzz."[62]

A rare visitor from the far North who, if we see it at all will probably be found in the company of Horned Larks or Snow Buntings. It is a browner bird than either of them, so while this is not a case of 'birds of a feather' it is a case of birds of a long hind toe-nail, since all three are distinguished by having a toe-nail actually longer than its toe. All three are walkers, which means also that they are ground-birds rather than tree-birds, and the tracks they leave in the snow, or on the beach, distinguish them from other birds if not from each other.[63]

A Sparrow of broad fields and plains whose song voices the spirit of open places. Neither words nor musical notation can describe it recognizably. It has somewhat the form of the Song Sparrow's song, just as the two birds resemble each other in form but are unlike in detail. One must, therefore, first learn to know the bird—an easy matter, since it is common and can be readily identified by its white outer tail-feathers—and thereafter you will be the richer for a knowledge of this rarely appealing bit of bird music.

The nest, as one might suppose, is built on the ground, and the 4-5 whitish spotted eggs are laid early in May.

Few migratory birds have a more restricted breeding range than the Ipswich Sparrow. Confined to a sandbar island during the summer where it is never out of sight or sound of the sea, it seeks similar haunts during[64] the winter when it is rarely found far from the immediate vicinity of the ocean. In general habits and nesting, it resembles the Savannah Sparrow, of which indeed, it is doubtless an island representative.

An abundant Sparrow known only to bird students. It prefers fields to door-yards; lives much on the ground, and its darting flight, followed by a sudden dive to cover, and insignificant song all combine to make it rather difficult of identification. It nests in May, laying 4-5 white, speckled eggs in a nest on the ground.

[65]

Grasshopper, he is called, because his unmusical little song, pit-túck, zee-e-e-e-e, sung from a low perch, resembles the sound produced by that insect. He is a common inhabitant of old fields, where sorrel and daisies grow, and when flushed at one's feet darts away to drop suddenly to the ground beyond. The 4-5, white, spotted eggs are laid in a ground nest in late May or early June.

Henslow's Sparrow lives in isolated and sometimes widely separated communities, frequenting wet meadows in summer, but visiting, also, dry fields in winter. It has the general habits of the Grasshopper Sparrow and its notes are equally unmusical. The 4-5 grayish white, thickly speckled eggs are laid in a ground nest the latter half of May.

This is the third and rarest member of the trio of small, retiring Sparrows of which the Grasshopper Sparrow is the[66] commonest. It is found east of the Mississippi only in the winter when it may be associated with the Grasshopper and Henslow's Sparrows.

An abundant inhabitant of salt marshes. There is, or was, a colony on the Hudson River immediately south of the long pier from which Piermont takes its name, but with this exception I have never seen this Sparrow beyond the sound of the surf. It runs about through the thick marsh grasses taking wing only when hard pressed. Its song is short and insignificant. It nests on the ground, the 3-4 grayish white, finely speckled eggs being laid in late May or early June.

This is a fresh-water representative of the Sharp-tail which nests in the prairie sloughs of the interior and reaches the Atlantic coast during its migrations and in the winter.[67] It resembles the Sharp-tail in habits and when on the coast, may be found associated with it.

The Acadian Sharp-tailed Sparrow (P. n. subvirgatus) is similar to the Sharp-tailed Sparrow but is paler above; the throat, breast and sides are washed with cream-buff and indistinctly streaked with ashy. It nests on the salt marshes of the Atlantic coast from Maine to Cape Breton and in Prince Edward Island; and winters from South Carolina to Florida. In general habits it resembles the two preceding.

The three Sharp-tails may be distinguished chiefly by the color and markings of the breast. In the Sharp-tail these are pale buff distinctly streaked with blackish. In Nelson's they are deep buff lightly if at all streaked. In the Acadian they are cream-buff indistinctly streaked with grayish. The Sharp-tail may be known from the other two by its distinct black marks below, but the other two cannot certainly be distinguished from each other in life where both may be expected to occur.

In the Piermont marsh, referred to under the Sharp-tailed Sparrow, there are Seasides as well as Sharp-tails, but this is the only place in which I have seen Seasides away from the sea. There they are abundant in the grassy marshes. Their song is weak and unattractive. Like the Sharp-tail they nest on the ground, laying 3-4 white or bluish white eggs, clouded or finely speckled with cinnamon-brown, the latter part of May.[68]

This northern Seaside Finch is migratory, coming the latter part of April and remaining until the latter half of October, but in the South there are several races which for the most part are resident in the same locality throughout the year. Thus we have:

Macgillivray's Seaside Sparrow (P. m. macgillivraii).—Atlantic Coast from North Carolina south to Matanzas Islet, Florida. Dusky Seaside Sparrow (P. nigrescens), an almost black species from Merritt's Island, at the head of Indian River, Florida. Cape Sable Sparrow (P. m. mirabilis), Cape Sable, Florida. Scott's Seaside Sparrow (P. m. peninsulæ), Gulf Coast of Florida from Tampa to St. Marks; Northwest Florida Sparrow (P. m. juncicola) Coast of Florida west of St. Marks; Alabama Seaside Sparrow (P. m. howelli), Coast of Alabama and Mississippi. Louisiana Seaside Sparrow (P. m. fisheri), Coast of Louisiana to Northeast Texas; and Sennett's Seaside Sparrow (P. m. sennetti), Coast of Texas from Galveston at least to Corpus Christi.

Few field experiences have given me more pleasure than the discovery near my home at Englewood one November 2, many years ago, of a Lark Finch—one of the 'casuals' which had presumably been carried far from its course by a severe storm of the preceding days. The bird's strongly marked face and conspicuously white-tipped[69] tail-feathers made an impression which testifies to their value as field-characters. In its own range this beautiful Sparrow is a sweet-voiced inhabitant of the fields, nesting on the ground or in low trees and bushes, and laying 3-5 white eggs, spotted and blotched with blackish, in May.

When migrating this Sparrow reminds one of a White-throat. It has a sharp clink note and frequents brier patches and bushy places.

This distinguished-looking cousin of our White-throated Sparrow is rare enough in the Eastern States, always to command our attention when we are so fortunate as to meet him. He resembles the White-throat in habits and choice of haunts but his song has a tender, appealing[70] quality, lacking in the White-throat's more cheerful lay, charming as that is.

This clear-voiced whistler is known to many persons who have never seen it. When anyone returning from the bird's summer range tells me "I heard a bird sing like this," I know before he whistles a note that he will probably imitate the White-throat. Fortunately the song has so much character and its intervals conform so closely to those of our musical scale, that a recognizable imitation of it is within the power of everyone. There is much variation in the arrangement of the notes and migrants never seem to sing with the power of nesting birds, nor do fall songs compare in volume or execution with those of spring. The call-note is a characteristic sharp clink.

The White-throat is abundant, migrating and wintering in companies which frequent bushy places, hedgerows and undergrowth generally. The nest is placed on the ground or in bushes in late May or early June. The eggs. 4-5 in number, are bluish white, speckled or blotched with brown.[71]

From October to April companies of Tree Sparrows harvest the season's crop of weed seeds, feeding usually near woods or hedge-rows to which they go to rest and roost. Their merry chatter is one of the season's most cheerful notes, and in the spring we may hear their canary-like song.

The friendly Chippy is the most familiar and domestic of any of our native Sparrows. He makes tentative visits to our piazzas and, cats permitting, will take up his residence there, building a neat, hair-lined nest in the vines or a nearby bush. Unassuming in voice as he is in[72] manner, his Chippy-chippy-chippy, many times repeated, expresses contentment, even if it does not attain high musical rank. Madame Chippy has fine taste in eggs, laying, in early May, little blue gems, beautifully marked with brown or black.

A Chipping Sparrow of the Plains which nests on the ground and in low bushes. It is not common east of the Mississippi.

'Bush Sparrow,' Mr. Roosevelt always called this bird, and the name gives a better conception of its haunts than that of Field Sparrow, since it is found in bush-grown fields. From a bush-top it sings its clearly whistled, sweet, appealing song, varying the relation of notes and trills, but never their musical quality. In a bush also it nests, laying 3-5 white eggs, marked with reddish brown, in May.[73]

Gray skies and a snow-covered earth are the Junco colors, and when he flashes them along the hedgerows and wood borders we know that although it is only late September, winter will soon be with us. From that time until April the Junco is of our commonest birds. He visits our food-shelf and roosts in our evergreens, becoming almost as domestic as the Chipping Sparrow. The Junco's call-notes are a sharp tsip, a contented chew-chew-chew, and a sharp kissing call. Its modest, musical little trill we shall not hear until spring. The nest is built on the ground, and the 4-5 white, speckled, or spotted, eggs are laid late in May.

[74]

Where 'scrub' oaks grow beneath the pines, or post, or white oaks form open woods, there one may look for this rather retiring, sweet-voiced Sparrow. If one can imagine a Hermit Thrush singing the Field Sparrow's chant, he will have some conception of the rare quality of Bachman's Sparrow's song. The nest is built on the ground, the white unmarked eggs being laid early in May.

The Pine Woods Sparrow (P. æ. æstivalis), is a darker race, more streaked above with black. It is resident in Florida (except the northwestern part) and southern Georgia where it frequents pine forests undergrown with scrub palmetto.

If the so-called 'English' Sparrow is the European Sparrow, the Song Sparrow is the American Sparrow. He is found in every State and from the Valley of Mexico to Alaska. He is abundant, musical, and familiar and probably better known than any other member of his family native to this country. His is one of the first birds' songs to be heard in the spring, and the last in the fall, and when in midsummer, the adults, while molting, are silent, the rambling, formless song of the young may be heard.

Usually the Song Sparrow is found near water and not far from bushes into which he flies when alarmed. Then[75] we hear his characteristic call-note, an impatient chimp, chimp, unlike that of any other of our Sparrows. The nest is built on the ground and the 4-5 bluish white brown-marked eggs are laid late in April.

We know the species only as a rare, retiring migrant, frequenting hedgerows, and undergrowth. I have never heard its song while migrating.

The Swamp Sparrow is a Sparrow of the marshes whose tweet-tweet-tweet many times repeated, is associated with the music of Marsh Wrens. It nests on the ground in May, laying eggs not unlike those of the Song Sparrow.[76]

A vigorous scratcher in the undergrowth who, using both feet at once, kicks the leaves out behind him; a master musician among our Sparrows whose loud, clear, joyous notes form one of our most notable bird songs. We hear it only for a brief time in spring and fall as the birds pass us on their migration.

Chewińk, towheé, the clear, emphatic, strongly accented call announces the presence of a bird whose colors are as distinctive as its notes. The Towhee feeds on the ground in and near bushy places, but when the desire to sing comes upon him he leaves his lowly haunts and taking a more or less exposed perch, fifteen to twenty feet from[77] the ground, utters his sweet-bird-sin-n-n-g, with an earnestness which goes far to atone for his lack of striking musical ability. The nest is built on the ground and the 4-5 white, finely speckled eggs are laid during the first half of May.

The White-eyed Towhee (P. e. alleni) of Florida and the coast region north to Charleston, South Carolina, has the eye yellowish instead of red and the white markings are more restricted. Its call is higher than that of the northern bird and its song shorter.

Next to the Mockingbird's medley, the rich, mellow whistle of the Cardinal is the most prominent bird voice in the choir of southern songsters. Passing most of the time in the undergrowth, where, in spite of his brilliant colors, he readily conceals himself, he makes no attempt, when singing, to hide his fiery plumes, but selecting a conspicuous perch, challenges the attention of the world.

The female Cardinal also sings, but her song has much less volume than that of her mate, and is more rarely heard. The call-note of both sexes is a minute; sharp, cheep, which one would attribute to a bird half their size. The Cardinal nests in bushes, laying 3-4 whitish eggs speckled and spotted with brown, in April.[78]

The Florida Cardinal (C. c. floridanus), a slightly smaller, deeper colored (especially in the female) race of the preceding, inhabits the peninsula of Florida.

The Blue Grosbeak is an unfamiliar bird to most eastern students. Ridgway states that its haunts resemble those of the Field Sparrow or Indigo Bunting. Its call is a strong, harsh ptchick, its song a beautiful, but rather feeble warble. The nest is usually built in bushes and the 3-4 pale bluish white eggs are laid in May.

Distinguished alike by plumage and song, the Rose-breast is one of our most notable bird citizens. His song resembles in form that of the Robin, but has a more lyrical, flowing, joyous quality, and, unlike the Robin,[79] he often sings while flying. The call-note of both sexes is a sharp peek which, like the Cardinal's cheep, seems too small for the bird.

The Rose-breast lives and nests in woodland, particularly second-growths, building a frail nest ten to twenty feet from the ground. The 4-5 blue, brown-marked eggs are laid the latter half of May.

"July, July, summer-summer's here; morning, noontide, evening, list to me" the Indigo sings in rather hard but brilliant little voice. To me the words express the rhythm as well as the spirit of the song. We hear them most often in bushy fields and open second-growths, along hedge-rows or from briery clumps in which the bird's nest may be hidden. The pale, bluish white eggs are laid the latter half of May.

"Painted" Bunting he is called, but the brilliancy and luster of his plumage were not painted by human hands.[80] 'Nonpareil' he has also been named, and, in the eastern United States, at least, he is without equal in the brightness of his colors. The bird's haunts are not unlike those of the Indigo Bunting, and its song is said to resemble the Indigo's but to be more feeble. It builds in bushes and low trees, laying 3-4 bluish white, brown-spotted eggs in May.

The Dickcissel is a bird of the fields who, from a weed-stalk or fence by the wayside, sings his unmusical dick-dick cissel, cissel, cissel. The nest is built on the ground or in a bush and the 4-5 pale blue eggs are laid the latter half of May.

As a family Tanagers are the most strikingly colored of American birds, but among the nearly 400 species none appears more brilliant in life than the male Scarlet Tanager. The leaf-colored female is as difficult to see as the male is conspicuous. Both have the same characteristic call—chip-chúrr, chip-chúrr. The song suggests a Robin's but is more forced and has a hoarse undertone. They live and nest in the woods, building on a horizontal limb 10-20 feet up. The 3-4 greenish blue, brown-marked eggs are laid late in May.

The "Summer Redbird's" chicky-tucky-tuck, is as clearly pronounced and unmistakable as the Scarlet Tanager's chip-chúrr. Its song is somewhat sweeter than that of its scarlet cousin, but bears a general resemblance to it. Both pine and deciduous woods are inhabited by this bird. Its nesting habits resemble those of the Scarlet Tanager.[82]

Fortunate is the man whose hospitality the Martins accept. Their cheery notes and sociability make them the best kind of guests. The Audubon Society will send one plans for a Martin house, and tell one where to place it. Martins nest in May and lay white eggs.

Cliff Swallow it is in the West, but "Eave" Swallow it should be in the East where the rows of flask-shaped mud nests cluster thick beneath projecting roofs. They prefer unpainted buildings and the modern barn rarely knows them. The white, brown-spotted eggs are laid in the latter half of May.[83]

Barn Swallows are far more beautiful, more graceful and more companionable than Purple Martins. But while we are erecting special dwellings for the Martins we are making our barns Swallow-proof. A pair of Barn Swallows are not only cheerful neighbors but good investments. Let us make it possible for them to enter the hay-mow. We may even supply shelves as foundations for their open mud nests. The white, spotted eggs are laid in the latter half of May.

We see comparatively few Tree Swallows during the spring, but from July to October, as they journey slowly southward, they are the most abundant members of their family. In countless thousands long ropes of Swallows[84] crowd the wayside wires from pole to pole. At night, with others of their tribe, they roost in the marshes.

Tree Swallows they are called because they nest in hollow trees and, like some other hole-nesting birds, they may be induced to occupy nesting-boxes, making a welcome addition to our list of bird tenants. The 4-7 white eggs are laid in May.

The Bank Swallow is a bird of the air who tunnels the earth for a nesting-place. Where river or road has left a bank, its face may be dotted with the entrances to the Bank Swallow's dwellings. At the end of two or three feet the nest of grass and feathers is placed, fit receptacle for the pearl-white eggs, which are usually laid the latter half of May.

During the migrations the Bank Swallow travels with other members of its family, sharing their roost in the marshes by night and their wayside perch by day.

Least common of our Swallows. It nests in small colonies of about half a dozen pairs, sometimes in holes, at others under bridges, crevices in cliffs and similar situations. In the fall, it flocks with other species of its family. Its 4-8 white eggs are laid the latter half of May.

There are comparatively few authentic records of this beautiful bird east of the Alleghanies. Enthusiastic bird-students are, I fear, apt to give Waxwings, seen in winter, the benefit of the doubt and call them 'Bohemians.' Look especially for the white marks on the Bohemian's wings. Its large size might not be apparent unless the two species were seen together.

A Waxwing's crest is as expressive as a horse's ears. One moment it points skyward the next it flattens and disappears. They are as sociable as "Love Birds," traveling in small flocks which, like one bird, dive into a tree and perch so close together that often several will be almost touching, and with common accord they take wing. They feed mainly on small fruit both wild and cultivated but are also expert flycatchers. They nest in June, usually in shade or fruit trees, building a well-made nest for the beautiful, clay-colored, black-spotted eggs.

A grim, gray bird that comes out of the far North in the fall. His mission is death to birds and mice and he makes no attempt to disguise it but boldly advertises his presence by perching where he may be seen as well as see. Mice he can plunge on, but Sparrows, Siskins or Redpolls he may have to pursue on the wing, following every twist and turn until he reaches striking distance. Slowly he bears his victim, in his feet, to some tree there to hang it on thorn or in crotch from which it may be devoured at leisure. An executioner by birth, the Shrike or "Butcher Bird"[87] evidently pursues his calling with no regrets and when spring time approaches adds his voice to the chorus of bird song.

The Loggerhead has the general habits of his larger northern cousin the "Butcher-bird," but he feeds, as a rule, on smaller game. Grasshoppers and lizards form the larger part of his fare and the barbed wire fences not infrequently are his shambles. A flight is ended by an upward swing to the chosen perch which may be a tree-top, a telegraph wire, or lightning-rod tip. From such a lookout he keeps a sharp watch for his prey, which he detects at surprisingly long distances; meanwhile uttering the gurgles, squeaks and pipes which constitute his song. The nest is built in hedges or low trees in early March. The 3-5 eggs are dull white thickly marked with brown and lavender.

The Migrant Shrike (Lanius ludovicianus migrans) is a northern race of the Loggerhead from which it differs only in being somewhat paler above and grayer below. It is a Summer Resident from Kansas and western North Carolina to Minnesota and Maine and winters from the Middle States southward.

Generally speaking, it may be said that any Shrike found north of Maryland in the winter is a Northern Shrike; that any Shrike found north of Virginia in the summer is a Migrant Shrike, and that any Shrike found south of that state in the summer is a Loggerhead.[88]

This is a tropical species which reaches southern Florida early in May and returns to its winter home after nesting. In general habits and notes it resembles the Red-eye.

A tireless soliloquist, the Red-eyed Vireo repeats from our shade and fruit trees in endless succession the broken phrases of his monotonous, rambling recitation. He sings all day and he sings throughout the summer, pausing only to sleep or to swallow the caterpillar he hunts while singing. Patient, persistent mediocrity is expressed by the Red-eye's song, and only his nasal, petulant call-note, whang, suggests that he is not altogether satisfied with life as he finds it.

The nest, like that of our other Vireos, is a deep cup hung from between a crotch from 5 to about 40 feet above the ground. The 3-4 eggs, which are laid in late May, are white spotted with reddish brown.[89]

While the Red-eye's song lasts the greater part of the day, the Warbling Vireo's continues for only about four seconds, then, after an interval, it is repeated. It is an unbroken strain running up and down the middle of the scale and has it in a reminder of the Purple Finch's lay. This species is less generally distributed than the Red-eye. It may be common in one locality and absent from another. Its nesting habits and eggs are much like those of the Red-eye, but the male has the singular custom of singing while it sits upon the nest.

Rarest of our Vireos; but few students know it as a migrant and fewer still as a nesting bird. Its song and nesting habits resemble those of the Red-eye.[90]

A less common bird than the Red-eye, but like it generally distributed through woodland, garden and orchard. It's song resembles the Red-eye's in form but is richer in tone, more deliberately uttered, and not continuous. "See me—I'm here—where are you?" he seems to say, and after a pause repeats the query.

The nest has the deep cup-shape of our other Vireo's but is externally covered with lichens. The eggs, laid the latter part of May, are white with a few specks of black or brown.

We know this Vireo chiefly as a migrant, one of the earliest of the group of small arboreal wood-haunting birds (Vireos and Warblers) to reach us in the spring.[91] Its song, as well as its movements, are deliberate. Vireo-like it peers beneath the leaves or inspects the blossoms, removing a caterpillar here or an insect's egg there, the while singing leisurely a rich-toned rendering of the Red-eye's theme.

It nests late in May, hanging its cup-shaped basket to a crotch usually five to ten feet above the ground. The eggs are white with a few black or brown spots.

The Mountain Solitary Vireo (L. s. alticola) has a slightly larger bill and bluer back. It nests in the mountains from Maryland to Georgia and winters southward to Florida.

An inhabitant of bushy undergrowths whose snappy calls possess almost the character of human speech, so clearly and emphatically are the syllables enunciated. One's presence seems to excite both his curiosity and his disapproval, for he looks one over from this side and that all the while giving expression to remarks which sound far from complimentary. The nest is hung from a crotch, rarely more than 6 feet from the ground. The eggs laid in April, in the South, in May in the North, are white with a few blackish spots.

The Key West Vireo (V. g. maynardi) has a longer bill and is somewhat paler below than the White-eye. It is resident in southern Florida and the Keys.[92]

Resembles the White-eye in habits, notes, and choice of haunts, but, according to Goss, its notes are not so harsh and emphatic.

This species and the three Nuthatches are our only birds that creep down as well as up; but the Nuthatches wear no body stripes and are otherwise too unlike the Creeper to be confused with him. The Downy Woodpecker 'hitches' himself upward advancing by jerks; the Brown Creeper, true to its name, creeps. The nest is built on the ground and the white, brown-marked eggs are laid in April in the South, in May in the North.[93]

No description or illustration prepares one for the gleaming beauty of the Golden Swamp Warbler. Cypress swamps or willow-bordered sloughs, where it may nest in the opening in old stubs, are its chosen haunts, and in such places it is sometimes found in numbers. The white eggs, thickly marked with brown, are laid in May.

Comparatively few bird students have seen this retiring Warbler in its haunts. "Water, tangled thickets, patches of cane, and a rank growth of semi-aquatic plants," Brewster states, seem indispensable to its existence. Its song in general effect, the same writer says, recalls that of the Northern Water-Thrush. The nest is built in bushes, canes, etc., and the white eggs are laid in May.

Comparatively few bird students can claim close acquaintance with this slow-moving, dull-colored bird who lives on or near the ground, usually in dry woodlands. Its song, resembling that of the Chipping Sparrow, will attract only an attentive ear, while its local distribution further prevents it from being more commonly known. It nests on the ground, the white, brown-marked eggs being laid in May.

When migrating, this little-known species associates with other bird travelers and may be found high or low. When nesting, it frequents swampy woods and, although it usually sings from the tree-tops, it builds in bushes within a few feet of the ground, laying 3-4 white eggs in the latter half of April or in May. Its song has been compared to that of both the Parula Warbler and the Chipping Sparrow.

In second growths, among birches, and at the border of the woods one may hear the wheezy, lazy, swee-chee of the Blue-wing. I make it a rule to see the singer always with the hope that he may prove to be the rare Brewster's Warbler, which usually sings like the Blue-wing, but in color is nearer the Golden-wing, being, in fact, like the Golden-wing but with the underparts and cheeks white unmarked with black. It appears to be a hybrid between the Blue-wing and Golden-wing. (Case 7, Fig. 38.)

A much rarer supposed hybrid between these two Warblers is known as Lawrence's Warbler. It is yellow below, like the Blue-wing, but has the black throat and cheeks of the Golden-wing. Some individuals sing like the Blue-wing, others like the Golden-wing, and this is true also of Brewster's Warbler. (Case 7, Fig. 37.)

The Blue-wing nests on the ground, laying 4-5 white delicately speckled eggs the latter part of May.

The Golden-wing's zee-zee-zee-zee resembles the Blue-wing's song in tone but the syllables are all on one note. When nesting, the Golden-wing prefers second growths, and birches, but when migrating it may be found in the[96] woods with others of its family. The nest is made on the ground, and the eggs, which resemble those of the Blue-wing, but are more heavily marked, are laid in May or early June.

Thayer in "Warblers of North America" says that the Nashville is one of the most agile and restless of the gleaning Warblers. It prefers birches, but is found in rather open growths of other trees. Its commoner song consists of a string of six or eight or more lively rapid notes, running into a rolling twitter. It has also a flight-song.

The nest is placed on the ground; the eggs, which are laid in May or early June, are white, spotted with reddish brown.

The Orange-crown is a rare fall migrant in the North Atlantic States, but common in Florida and southern Georgia in the winter. It frequents the upper branches of trees though, as with most members of its genus, it nests on the ground. Its call-note is a sharp, characteristic chip; its song is said to resemble that of the Chipping Sparrow.

A dull-colored little Warbler which we know as a rather rare migrant, associated with the traveling companies of its family on their northward and southward journeys. The song is described by Mrs. Farwell as noticeable but not musical and resembling that of the Chipping Sparrow.

A common migrant, traveling with other Wood Warblers, but in summer usually restricted to swampy localities where usnea moss flourishes. Of, or rather in this, it makes its nest, laying 4-5 white, brown-marked eggs the latter half of May. To describe its song as several wheezy notes running into a little trill, conveys no idea of pleasing character. It is easily recognized and, in time, acquires associations with what, to bird-lovers, is the most delightful season of the year.

The Southern Parula Warbler (C. a. americana) is a slightly smaller race with less black about the lores and on the breast in the male. It summers in the Southeastern States north to Virginia, and winters in the tropics. Its habits resemble those of the northern race, but it nests in the hanging, gray tillandsia or Spanish 'moss' instead of in usnea.

This beautiful Warbler was formerly considered one of our rarer migrants, but of recent years it appears to be increasing in numbers. On its nesting ground the bird is said to frequent the upper branches of tall evergreens (though one of the few nests which has been found was[99] within three feet of the ground), but when migrating it may be found in the trees of lawns, orchards, and woodland and I have seen it among poke-berries. The Cape May's song is a thin squeak which is compared to the songs of the Black and White and also Blackpoll Warblers.

Show me willows over water and any day in May or June I'll show you a Yellow Warbler. Shade and fruit trees also attract him and he may build his cotton-padded nest in their branches or in the shrubbery below. The song is a simple we-chee, chee, chee, chee, cher-wee, resembling that of the Chestnut-side, but has its own distinctive tone which permits of ready identification, once it has been learned. The bluish white eggs, thickly marked with shades of brown, are laid the latter half of May.

A true Wood Warbler, traveling through the trees with the scattered bands of other members of his family as he journeys to and from his summer home. This, in the northern part of his nesting range, is in coniferous forests, in the southern part, deciduous forests. In both, however, the birds require heavy undergrowth in which their bark-covered nest is built within a foot or two of the ground. The grayish white, brown-marked eggs are laid in late May or early June. Miss Paddock in "Warblers of North America" describes the Black-throated Blue's song as "an insect-like buzzing note repeated three or four times with a rising inflection."

Cairn's Warbler (D. c. cairnsi) is a nearly related race having, in the male, black centers to the feathers of the back. It nests in the upper parts of the Alleghanies, from Maryland to Georgia, and winters in the West Indies.

A hardy Warbler which, like the Tree Swallow, can substitute bayberries for insects. When the former are available some individuals remain in the North, enduring our winters without apparent discomfort. Its call-note,[101] tchep, is as distinctive as its markings, and this fact connected with its general distribution and abundance, makes it one of the best known members of this little-known family.

Thayer in "Warblers of North America" describes its common song as "a loud silvery 'sleigh-bell' trill, a vivid, sprightly utterance."

It nests in coniferous forests, building from four to twenty feet from the ground and laying 3-5 white eggs marked with shades of brown, in late May or early June.

A common migrant distinguished by the beauty of his costume even in this family of gayly clad birds. When traveling, the Magnolia may be found in woods and woody growth of varied character, but when nesting, it shows a fondness for spruce forests, building in small spruces usually within six feet of the ground.

The Magnolia's song resembles the Yellow Warbler's in tone. Thayer in "Warblers of North America" describes it as "peculiar and easily remembered; weeto: weeto-weeeéte-eet, or witchi, witchi, witchi tit, the first four notes deliberate and even and comparatively low in tone,[102] the last three hurried and higher pitched, with decided emphasis on the antepenult weet or witch."

The eggs, laid in the first half of June, are white marked with brown.

A tree-top Warbler of deciduous forests, nesting from 25 to 60 feet above the ground. Its song bears a marked resemblance to that of the Parula and its call-note is said to be like the tchep of the Myrtle Warbler. The white eggs, heavily blotched with brown, are laid in May.

Scrubby second growths undergrown with bushes, roadside borders of trees and bushes, and the brushy margins of woods are all resorts of the Chestnut-side. Here he attracts our attention by his rather loud, frequently[103] uttered song, which strongly suggests that of the Yellow Warbler. The nest is built within a few feet of the ground and the white, brown-marked eggs are laid the latter part of May.

The Bay-breast is one of the rarer members of its family. Most of us know it only as a migrant passing northward in May and southward in September, when it may be found in woodlands associated with other migrating Warblers. Its song resembles that of the Black and White Warbler. Mrs. Farwell describes it as "a poor, weak, monotonous saw-filing note." The nest has been found in hemlocks 15-20 feet from the ground. The white eggs, finely marked with shades of brown, are laid in June.

Toward the end of the May Warbler 'waves' the Blackpolls come in force. They are excessively fat and, perhaps for this reason, move rather slowly for a Warbler. They are Wood Warblers, but at this season may overflow into the trees of our lawns and orchards. Mrs. Farwell describes the Blackpoll's song as "a succession of hesitating, staccato, unmusical notes varying greatly in volume. The notes separated, not combined in twos, as in the Black and White Warbler's song." When nesting this Warbler frequents stunted spruce forests, placing its nest in these trees a few feet above the ground, and laying 4-5 white, brown-marked eggs the latter part of June.

The remoteness of their homes prevents us from making the acquaintance of the brilliantly plumaged birds of the tropics, but among them all we will find none more beautiful than this flame-breasted Warbler, which each[105] spring comes from his tropical winter home almost to our doors. In the summer he seeks the seclusion of coniferous forests and the higher branches of spruce or hemlock. There his nest is made sometimes 80 or more feet above the ground, and in late May or early June the white eggs, spotted, speckled and blotched with brown, are laid. The Blackburnian's song is described by Miss Paddock in "Warblers of North America" as "very shrill and fine, growing even more shrill and wiry as it rises toward the end."

The loud, ringing ching-ching-ching, chicker, cherwee of the Yellow-throated Warbler is one of the characteristic bird songs of spring in southern woods. The bird usually sings from the upper branches of tall trees, often cypresses, in Florida, but further north, from pines, where he can be far more easily heard than seen. The nest is placed 30-40 feet from the ground and the white eggs, thickly marked with shades of brown, are laid in April.

The Sycamore Warbler (D. d. albilora, Case 5, Fig. 19) is a nearly related race of the Yellow-throat which inhabits the Mississippi Valley nesting as far north as southern Michigan and wintering in the tropics. It differs from the Atlantic coast form in having a smaller bill and no yellow in front of the eye. As its name implies, it favors sycamore trees.[106]

The quiet little zee-zee, zee-ee-zee of the Black-throated Green announces the arrival of the vanguard of true Wood Warblers, which for the succeeding two weeks will pass in countless numbers through our woodlands, still almost leafless. At this time we may find him wherever trees grow, but his real summer home is coniferous forests, especially of hemlocks, in which he often builds his nests 15-20 feet above the ground. The eggs, laid in late May or early June, are white spotted and speckled with brown.

A southern form of this Warbler (D. v. waynei) has been described from the vicinity of Charleston, S.C.

[107]

Kirtland's Warbler has one of the smallest nesting areas of any North American bird and consequently is one of our rarest species. In the summer it lives among the jack-pines of north central Michigan, nesting on the ground beneath them. When migrating, it may be found usually near the ground, where it may be identified by its habit of tail-wagging. Its song is described by Wood in "Warblers of North America" as belonging to the whistling type with the clear, ringing quality of the Oriole's. The 3-5 eggs, laid early in June, are white speckled with brown in a wreath at the larger end.