|
THE BIRD STUDY BOOK
by
T. GILBERT PEARSON
Secretary, National Association of Audubon Societies
Coloured Frontispiece
Pen and ink drawings by Will Simmons
And sixteen photographs
[Frontispiece: Wood Thrush]
Garden City ------ New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
1917
Copyright, 1917, by
Doubleday, Page & Company
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian
TO MY WIFE
ELSIE WEATHERLY PEARSON
{v}
PREFACE
This book has been written for the consideration of that ever-increasing
class of Americans who are interested in acquiring a greater familiarity
with the habits and activities of wild birds. There are many valuable
publications treating more or less exhaustively of the classification of
birds, as well as of form, colour, distribution, migration, songs, and
foods. Here an attempt is made to place before the reader a brief
consideration of these and many similar topics, and suggest lines of
action and thought that may perhaps stimulate a fuller study of the
subject. Attention is also given to the relation of birds to mankind and
the effect of civilisation on the bird-life of the country. The book is
not intended so much for the advanced student in ornithology, as for the
beginner. Its purpose is to answer many of the questions that students
in this charming field of outdoor study are constantly asking of those
more advanced in bird-lore. In conformity with the custom employed
during many years of college and summer-school teaching, the author has
discussed numerous details of field observation, the importance of which
is so often overlooked by writers on the subject.
If one can, in the recounting of some experience that he has found
interesting, awaken in the mind of a sympathetic hearer a desire to go
forth and acquire a similar experience, then indeed may he regard himself
as a worthy disciple of the immortal Pestalozzi. Let the teacher who
would instruct pupils in bird-study first acquire, therefore, that love
for the subject which is sure to come when one begins to learn the birds
and observe their movements. This book, it is hoped, will aid such
seekers after truth by the simple means of pointing out some of the
interesting things that may be sought and readily found in the field and
by the open road.
In the preparation of this volume much valuable aid has been received
from Messrs. E. W. Nelson, F. E. L. Beal, Wells W. Cooke, T. S. Palmer,
H. C. Oberholser, and others of the United States Biological Survey, for
which the author desires to make grateful acknowledgment.
Parts of some of the chapters have previously appeared in the "Craftsman
Magazine" and "Country Life in America," and are here reproduced by the
courtesy of the editors.
T. GILBERT PEARSON.
{ix}
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v
CHAPTER
I. FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE BIRDS . . . . . . . . . . . 3
_Caution in Nest Hunting--Going Afield--Notebooks--Reporting
Blanks--Bird Books--Movements of Birds--Artificial
Cover in Hiding--The Umbrella Blind--Conclusion._
II. THE LIFE ABOUT THE NEST . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
_Nest Hunting--Behaviour when Nest Is Discovered--Lessons
to Be Learned--Character of Material Used--Nests in
Holes--Variety of Locations--Variation in Families--Meagre
Nests._
III. DOMESTIC LIFE OF THE BIRDS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42
_Parental Care of Young--Sharing the Labours--Length
of Mated Life--A Much-married Bluebird--The Faithful
Canada Geese--Unmated Birds--Polygamy Among
Birds--The Outcast._
IV. THE MIGRATION OF BIRDS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
_Moulting--Why Birds Migrate--The Gathering
Flocks--The Usual Movement--The Travelling Shore
Birds--The World's Migrating Champion--Perils of
Migration--Keeping Migration Records._
V. THE BIRDS IN WINTER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
_A Good Time for Field Walks--The Downy's Winter
Quarters--Birds and the Night--The Food Question in
Winter--When the Food Supply Fails--Wild Fowl
Destroyed in the Oil Fields--Hunting Winter Birds._
VI. THE ECONOMIC VALUE OF BIRDS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
_A Government Report--Plagues of Insects--Some
Useful Birds--The Question of the Weed Seeds--Dealing
with the Rodent Pests--The Terror That Flies by
Night--A Seldom Recognised Blessing._
VII. CIVILIZATION'S EFFECT ON THE BIRD SUPPLY . . . . . . . 120
_Number of Birds in the World--Number in the
Different States--Increase of Farm-land Species--Effect
of Forest Devastation--Commercializing Birds--Wild
Pigeon--Ivory-billed Woodpecker--Labrador
Duck--Great Auk--Eskimo Curlew._
VIII. THE TRAFFIC IN FEATHERS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
_War on the Sea Swallows--What the Ladies Wore--The
Story of the Egrets--Amateur Feather
Hunters--Maribou--Pheasants--Numidie--Goura--Women's
Love for Feathers--Ostrich Feathers Are Desirable._
IX. BIRD-PROTECTIVE LAWS AND THEIR ENFORCEMENT . . . HOW
LAWS ARE MADE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
_Definition of Game--Audubon Laws--Game Law
Enforcement--Lacy Lava--Federal Migratory Bird
Law--History of Game Laws--The Theory of Shiras--Work
of the Bird Committee--Government Explanations--World's
Only Bird Treaty._
X. BIRD RESERVATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
_First Federal Bird Reservation--Congressional
Sanction--Florida Reservations--Distant
Reservations--President Taft a Bird
Protectionist--Audubon Society Reservations--The
Corkscrew Rookery--Wardens Shot by Plume Hunters._
XI. MAKING BIRD SANCTUARIES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
_Natural Nesting Places Destroyed--Nesting Boxes for
Birds--Some Rules for Making and Erecting Bird
Boxes--Sites of Bird Boxes--Feeding Birds--Community
Sanctuaries--Birdcraft Sanctuary--Cemeteries as Bird
Sanctuaries--A Birdless Cemetery--Birds of a New York
Graveyard--Enemies to Be Eliminated--Berries and Fruit
for Birds._
XII. TEACHING BIRD STUDY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239
_Teaching Children--Junior Audubon Societies--Correlated
Studies--Keeping Scrapbooks--Records of
Migrants--Essays--Sending Old Nests to City
Children--Audubon Prizes--Bird Day._
{xiii}
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Wood Thrush . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece in color_
HALF-TONE CUTS
Facing Page
A ferocious young Eagle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
Gannets nesting on the cliffs of Bonaventure
Island, Gulf of St. Lawrence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
A male Plumbeous Gnatcatcher feeding young . . . . . . . . . . 38
A mountain Bluebird family whose home has
been destroyed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
Young Robins quarreling at their bath . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
Feeding station for birds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
Snowy Egret shot on its feeding grounds . . . . . . . . . . . 96
Farallone Cormorants and White Pelicans on
a Government Bird Reservation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
Window "Cafeteria" at home of Mrs. Granville Pike . . . . . . 128
A Christmas dinner for the birds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
An Egret, bearing "aigrettes," in attendance
on her young . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160
Egret brooding on a Florida island owned and
guarded by the Audubon Society . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
The Downy Woodpecker is fond of suet . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
Members of a Junior Audubon class at Fergus
Falls, Minnesota . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
A California Hospital for injured birds . . . . . . . . . . . 224
Preparing for the coming of the birds . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
LINE CUTS IN TEXT
Page
The fox that followed the footsteps . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Heads and feet of various birds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Sample page of reporting-blank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
The umbrella blind . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
Nest of the ruby-throated hummingbird . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
Bald Eagle's eyrie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
Grebe or "water witch" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
Canada Geese decoys . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
A greedy young Cowbird . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
Migration routes of some North American birds . . . . . . . . 71
Lighthouses cause the death of many birds . . . . . . . . . . 76
Tired migrating birds often alight on ships . . . . . . . . . 79
Grouse "budding" in an apple tree . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Cuckoo raiding a tent of caterpillars . . . . . . . . . . . . 111
Screech owl and its prey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115
Passenger Pigeons are now extinct . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127
The Great Auk, now extinct . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
Terns formerly sought by the feather trade . . . . . . . . . . 144
Crowned Pigeon that furnishes the "goura" of
the feather trade . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
Migrative birds are protected by the Government . . . . . . . 172
The grotesque Wood Ibis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
Hungry young Egrets . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
Cemented holes shut out the Chickadee . . . . . . . . . . . . 216
Gourds and boxes for Martins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
A bird bath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235
Coloring of birds upon outline drawings . . . . . . . . . . . 257
{3}
THE BIRD STUDY BOOK
CHAPTER I
FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE BIRDS
It is in spring that wild birds make their strongest appeal to the
human mind; in fact, the words "birds" and "spring" seem almost
synonymous, so accustomed are we to associate one with the other. All
the wild riotous singing, all the brave flashing of wings and tail, all
the mad dashing in and out among the thickets or soaring upward above
the tree-tops, are impelled by the perfectly natural instinct of mating
and rearing young. And where, pray, dwells the soul so poor that it
does not thrill in response to the appeals of the ardent lover, even if
it be a bird, or feel sympathy upon beholding expressions of parental
love and solicitude. Most people, therefore, are interested in such
spring bird life as comes to their notice, the extent of this interest
depending {4} in part on their opportunity for observation, but more
especially, perhaps, on their individual taste and liking for things
out of doors.
It would seem safe to assume that there is hardly any one who does not
know by sight at least a few birds. Nearly every one in the eastern
United States and Canada knows the Robin, Crow, and English Sparrow; in
the South most people are acquainted with the Mockingbird and Turkey
Buzzard; in California the House Finch is abundant about the towns and
cities; and to the dwellers in the Prairie States the Meadowlark is
very familiar.
Taking such knowledge, however slight, as a basis, there is no reason
why any one, if he so desires, should not, with a little effort, get on
neighbourly terms with a large number of birds of the region, and
spring is a most favourable time to begin such an effort. One may
learn more about a bird's habits by closely observing its movements for
a few hours at this season than by watching it for a month later on.
The life that centres about the nest is most {5} absorbing. Few sights
are more stimulating to interest in outdoor life than spying on a pair
of wild birds engaged in nest building. Nest hunting, therefore, soon
becomes a part of the bird student's occupation, and I heartily
recommend such a course to beginners, _provided_ great care is
exercised not to injure the nests and their contents.
_Caution in Nest Hunting._--A thoughtful person will, of course, be
careful in approaching a wild bird's nest, otherwise much mischief may
be done in a very short time. I have known "dainty eggs" and "darling
baby-birds" to be literally visited to death by well-meaning people,
with the best of intentions. The parents become discouraged by
constantly recurring alarms and desert the nest, or a cat will follow
the path made through the weeds and leave nothing in the nest worth
observing. Even the bending of limbs, or the pushing aside of leaves,
will produce a change in the surroundings, which, however slight, may
be sufficient to draw the attention of some feathered enemy.
{6}
When one stumbles on the nest of a Quail, Meadowlark, or Oven-bird, it
is well not to approach it closely, because all over the country many
night-prowling animals have the habit of following by scent the
footsteps of any one who has lately gone along through the woods or
across the fields. One afternoon by the rarest chance I found three
Quails' nests containing eggs. The next morning I took out a friend to
share the pleasure of my discoveries. We found every nest destroyed
and the eggs eaten. My trail the evening before lay through cultivated
fields, and it was thus easy for us to find in the soft ground the
tracks of the fox or small dog that, during the night, had followed the
trail with calamitous results to the birds. When finding the nests I
had made the mistake of going to within a few inches of them. Had I
stopped six feet away the despoiler that followed probably never would
have known there was a nest near, for unless a dog approaches within a
very few feet of a _brooding_ Quail it seems not to possess the power
of smelling it.
[Illustration: The Fox that Followed the Footsteps]
{7}
_Going Afield._--It is rarely necessary to go far afield to begin the
study of birds. Often one may get good views of birds from one's open
window, as many species build their nests close to the house when the
surroundings are favourable. Last spring {8} I counted eighteen kinds
of birds one morning while sitting on the veranda of a friend's house,
and later found the nests of no less than seven of them within sight of
the house. When one starts out to hunt birds it is well to bear in
mind a few simple rules. The first of these is to go quietly. One's
good sense would of course tell him not to rush headlong through the
woods, talking loudly to a companion, stepping upon brittle twigs, and
crashing through the underbrush. Go quietly, stopping to listen every
few steps. Make no violent motions, as such actions often frighten a
bird more than a noise. Do not wear brightly coloured clothing, but
garments of neutral tones which blend well with the surroundings of
field and wood. It is a good idea to sit silently for a time on some
log or stump, and soon the birds will come about you, for they seldom
notice a person who is motionless. A great aid to field study is a
good _Field Glass_. A glass enables one to see the colours of small
birds hopping about the shrubbery, or moving through the branches of
trees. With its {9} aid one may learn much of their movements, and
even observe the kind of food they consume. A very serviceable glass
may be secured at a price varying from five to ten dollars. The
National Association of Audubon Societies, New York City, sells a
popular one for five dollars. If you choose a more expensive,
high-powered binocular, it will be found of greater advantage when
watching birds at a distance, as on a lake or at the seashore.
_Notebooks._--The bird student should early acquire the custom of
making notes on such subjects as are of special interest. In listening
to the song or call of some unknown bird, the notes can usually be
written down in characters of human speech so that they may be recalled
later with sufficient accuracy to identify the singer. It is well to
keep a list of the species observed when on a trip. For many years in
my field excursions I have kept careful lists of the birds seen and
identified, and have found these notes to be of subsequent use and
pleasure. In college and summer-school work I {10} have always
insisted on pupils cultivating the notebook habit, and results have
well justified this course.
In making notes on a bird that you do not know it is well to state the
size by comparing it with some bird you know, as, for example, "smaller
than an English Sparrow," "about the size of a Robin," and so on. Try
to determine the true colours of the birds and record these. Also note
the shape and approximate length of the bill. This, for example, may
be short and conical like a Canary's, awl-shaped like the bill of a
Warbler, or very long and slender like that of a Snipe. By failing to
observe these simple rules the learner may be in despair when he tries
to find out the name of his strange bird by examining a bird book, or
may cause some kindly friend an equal amount of annoyance.
[Illustration: Heads and feet of various birds]
As a further aid to subsequent identification it is well to record the
place where the bird was seen, for example: "hopping up the side of a
tree," "wading in a marsh," "circling about in the air," or "feeding
{12} on dandelions." Such secondary information, while often a
valuable aid to identification, would in itself hardly be sufficient to
enable an ornithologist to render the service desired.
That a young correspondent of mine entertained a contrary view was
evident from a letter I received a few weeks ago from an inexperienced
boy enthusiast, who was a member of a newly formed nature-study class.
Here is the exact wording of the communication: "Dear Sir: 10 A. M.
Wind East. Cloudy. Small bird seen on ground in orchard. Please
name. _P. S._ All the leaves have fallen."
_Reporting Blanks._--A convenient booklet of reporting blanks and
directions for using them is issued by the National Association of
Audubon Societies, New York City. This is very useful in recording
descriptions of birds. (See sample, page 13.) The blanks may be sent
to the office of the National Association and the species described
will be named.
[Illustration: Sample page of reporting-blank]
Bird Books.--There are a number of inexpensive {14} books which contain
illustrations of birds in natural colours. One of these will be of the
greatest aid to the beginner in bird study. Among the most useful are
the Reed's, "Bird Guides," one covering the birds of the eastern and
the other those of the western part of the United States. The pictures
alone will be of great use in learning the names of feathered
neighbours, while an intelligent study of the text will reveal the
identity of many others.
Local lists of such birds as are found in a neighbourhood, or a county,
are always a great aid in determining, with a fair degree of accuracy,
just what species may or may not be expected to appear in a given
locality. Such lists are usually first published in _The Auk_, _The
Condor_, or other ornithological publications, and in many cases are
printed and distributed later as separate pamphlets.
There have been published also many State lists of birds, usually
accompanied by detailed information regarding abundance and
distribution of all the species known to occur in the State. Every
bird {15} student should, if possible, get a copy of his own State bird
book. Any reader who may wish to learn if such a list of the birds of
his neighbourhood or State has been published is at liberty to address
the question to the author of this book.
_Movements of Birds._--One does not get very far in the work of bird
study without discovering that certain movements are characteristic of
various families; and when the observer is able to recognize this
difference in manner a long step has been taken in acquiring the power
of identifying species.
After watching for a time the actions of a Downy Woodpecker as it
clings to the side of a tree, or hops along its bark, one is quick to
recognize the Woodpecker _manner_ when some other species of that
family is encountered. Recalling the ceaseless activities of a Yellow
Warbler the observer feels, without quite knowing why, that he has
discovered another Warbler of some kind when a Redstart or
Chestnut-sided Warbler appears. Once identify a Barn Swallow coursing
through the air, and a long {16} stride is made toward the
identification of the Cliff or Tree Swallow when one swings into view.
The flight of the Flicker, the Goldfinch, the Nighthawk, and the
Sparrow Hawk, is so characteristic in each case that I have often been
able to name the bird for a student upon being told its approximate
size and the character of its flight. Who can see a Wild Duck
swimming, or a Gull flying, without at once referring it to the group
of birds to which it belongs? Thus the first step is taken toward
learning the names of the species, and the grouping of them into
families.
_Artificial Cover in Hiding._--When studying the larger or the shyer
species it is sometimes well to hide one's self from view with whatever
articles are at hand that resemble the natural surroundings. This may
be done by covering with hay if in a field, or by holding some leafy
branches about you if in the woods.
On a lonely island in Pamlico Sound I once got some fishermen to cover
me with sand and sea-shells, and in that way managed to get a close
view of {17} the large flocks of Cormorants that came there to roost
every night. The island was small and perfectly barren, and any other
method of attempted concealment would have failed utterly.
Another time, while crouched among some boulders watching for a flock
of Gambel's Quails to come to a water-hole in the Santa Catalina
Mountains of Arizona, a Canyon Wren alighted on my back, for I was
covered with an old tent fly so spotted with mildew that it closely
resembled the neighbouring rocks. A moment later it flew to a point
scarcely more than a foot from my face, when, after one terrified look,
it departed.
[Illustration: A ferocious young eagle]
_The Umbrella Blind._--A device now often used by ornithologists is the
umbrella blind, which is easy to construct. Take a stout umbrella,
remove the handle, and insert the end in a hollow brass rod five feet
long. Sharpen the rod at the other end and thrust it into the ground.
Over the raised umbrella throw a dark green cloth cut and sewed so as
to make a curtain that will reach the ground all round. A {19}
draw-string will make it fit over the top. Get inside, cut a few
vertical observation slits six inches long, and your work is done.
Erect this within ten feet of a nest, and leave it alone for a few
hours. The birds will quickly get accustomed to it so that later you
may go inside and watch at close range without disturbing them in the
least. This blind is often used for close bird photography. I have
taken pictures of Herring Gulls at a distance of only six feet with the
aid of such a blind. If you wish to use it on a windy day it may be
stayed by a few guy-lines from the top and sides.
[Illustration: The Umbrella Blind]
The foregoing instructions include all the necessary aids to a beginner
in bird study who desires to start afield properly equipped. To
summarize them, all that is really necessary is a field glass, a
notebook for memoranda, inconspicuous clothing, and a desire to listen
and learn.
In the next chapter we shall discuss some of the things to be learned
in the study of the life about the nest.
{20}
_NOTE.--The following publications will be found of great aid to the
student in identifying wild birds:_
_"Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America," by Frank M. Chapman,
published by D. Appleton Or Company, price $3.65, postpaid._
_"Handbook of Birds of Western United States," by Florence Merriam
Bailey, published by Houghton, Mifflin Company, price $3.68, postpaid._
_"Water and Game Birds: Birds of Prey" and "Land Birds East of the
Rockies: From Parrots to Blue Birds," by Chester A. Reed, published by
Doubleday, Page & Company, price of each in sock cloth, $1.10,
postpaid; inflexible leather, $1.35, postpaid._
_Educational Leaflets, published by the National Association of Audubon
Societies, New York City, a series of nearly one hundred, price 2 cents
each._
{21}
CHAPTER II
THE LIFE ABOUT THE NEST
In view of the fact that birds display much activity about their nests
there is a great advantage in studying the nesting bird. Once locate
an occupied nest, and by quietly watching for a time, your field glass
and bird guide will usually enable you to learn the owner's name. If
you do not know where any nest is to be found go out and hunt for one.
This in itself will be an exciting sport, although it should be pursued
with good judgment. Children unattended should not be permitted to
hunt nests in spring. A very excellent way to find one is to keep a
sharp watch upon birds at the time when they are engaged in nest
building.
_Nest Hunting._--By noticing every bird suspected of being interested
in domestic affairs, you are pretty {22} sure to see one before long
with grass, twigs, rootlets, or something of the kind in its bill. Now
watch closely, for you are in a fair way to discover a nest. The bird
may not go directly to the spot. If it suspects it is being watched it
may hop from twig to twig and from bush to bush for many minutes before
revealing its secret, and if it becomes very apprehensive it may even
drop its burden and begin a search for insects with the air of one who
had never even dreamed of building a nest. Even when unsuspicious it
will not always go directly to the nest. From an outhouse I once
watched a Blue Jay, with a twig, change its perch more than thirty
times before going to the fork where its nest was being built.
Sometimes a bird may be induced to reveal its secret by placing in its
sight tempting nesting material. By this means Mrs. Pearson last
summer found a Redstart's nest. Discovering a female industriously
hopping about near the camp, and suspecting what it was seeking, she
dropped some ravellings of a white cotton string from the veranda
railing, letting {23} them fall where the bird could see them. These
proved most acceptable, and the Redstart immediately appropriated them,
one at a time, with the result that she soon betrayed her nest.
Early morning is the best time of the day to find birds working at
their nests, for then they are most active. Perhaps a reason for this
is that the broken twigs, leaves, and dead grasses, wet with the dews
of night, are more pliable, and consequently more easily woven into
place.
For nesting sites birds as a rule prefer the open country. Rolling
meadowlands, with orchards, thickets, and occasional streams, are ideal
places for birds in spring.
_Number and Colour of Eggs._--The full complement of eggs laid by a
bird is known as a set or clutch. The number varies greatly with
different species. The Leach's Petrel, Murre, and some other sea
birds, have but one egg. The Turkey Vulture, Mourning Dove,
Hummingbird, Whip-poor-will, and Nighthawk lay two. Various Thrushes,
such as the {24} Robin, Veery, and Wood Thrush, deposit from three to
five, four being the most usual number. Wild Ducks, Turkeys, and
Grouse range from eight to a dozen or more; while Quails sometimes lay
as many as eighteen.
Eggs are variously coloured, and some are so marked that the blending
of their colours with those of their surroundings renders them
inconspicuous. Thus those of the Killdeer, Sandpiper, and Nighthawk,
for example, are not easily distinguished from the ground on which they
lie.
Many eggs that are laid in holes or other dark places are white without
markings of any kind, as illustrated by those of the Chimney Swift,
Belted Kingfisher, and all Woodpeckers. In such instances Nature shows
no disposition to be lavish with her colouring matter where it is not
needed.
_Behaviour When Nest Is Discovered._--After the young are hatched it is
even easier to find nests by watching the parents. The nestlings are
hungry at all hours, and the old ones are visiting the nest at frequent
intervals throughout the day. Birds {25} behave very differently when
their nests are discovered. A Cuckoo will glide away instantly and
will make no effort to dispute your possession of her treasures. A
Crow will also fly off, and so will a Wild Duck and some others. On
the other hand, the Mockingbird, Robin, or Shrike, will raise a great
outcry and bring about her half the birds of the neighbourhood to pour
out on you their vials of wrath, unless you have the good judgment to
retire at once to a respectful distance. Warblers will flit from bush
to bush uttering cries of distress and showing their uneasiness. The
Mourning Dove, Nighthawk, and many others will feign lameness and seek
to lead you away in a vain pursuit. A still larger number will employ
the same means of deception after the young have been hatched, as, for
example, the Quail, Killdeer, Sandpiper, and Grouse.
However much a bird may resent your intrusion on the privacy of its
sanctuary, it is very rare for one to attack you. I remember, however,
a boy who once had the bad manners to put his hand into a {26}
Cardinal's nest and had a finger well bitten for his misdeed. Beware,
too, of trying to caress a Screech Owl sitting on its eggs in a hollow
tree; its claws are very sharp, and you will need first-aid attention
if you persist. Occasionally some bird will let you stroke its back
before deserting its eggs, and may even let you take its photograph
while you are thus engaged. On one occasion I removed a Turkey
Vulture's egg from beneath the sitting bird. It merely hissed feebly
as I approached, and a moment later humbly laid at my feet a portion of
the carrion which it had eaten a short time before--a well-meant but
not wholly appreciated peace-offering.
_Lessons to Be Learned._--An infinite variety of interesting things may
be learned by watching birds at their nests, or by a study of the nests
themselves. How many persons have ever tried to answer seriously the
old conundrum: "How many straws go to make a bird's nest?" Let us
examine critically one nest and see what we find. One spring after a
red squirrel had destroyed the three eggs in a Veery's {27} nest which
I had had under observation, I determined to study carefully its
composition, knowing the birds would not want to make use of it again.
The nest rested among the top limbs of a little brush-pile and was just
two feet above the ground. Some young shoots had grown up through the
brush and their leaves partly covered the nest from view. It had an
extreme breadth of ten inches and was five inches high. The inner cup
was two and one-half inches deep, and measured the same across the top.
In its construction two small weed stalks and eleven slender twigs were
used. The latter were from four and one-half to eight inches long.
The main bulk of the nest was made up of sixty-eight large leaves,
besides a mass of decayed leaf fragments. Inside this bed was the
inner nest, composed of strips of soft bark. Assembling this latter
material I found that when compressed with the hands its bulk was about
the size of a baseball. Among the decaying leaves near the base of the
nest three beetles and a small snail had found a home.
{28}
The Veery, in common with a large number of other birds, builds a nest
open at the top. The eggs, therefore, are often more or less exposed
to the Crow, the pilfering Jay, and the egg-stealing red squirrel.
This necessitates a very close and careful watch on the part of the
owners. At times it may seem that the birds are not in sight, and that
the eggs are deserted; but let the observer go too near, and invariably
one or both old birds will let him know of their presence by voicing
their resentment and sending abroad their cries of distress.
_Character of Material Used._--A wide variety of material is used by
birds that build open nests. Cotton and feathers enter largely into
the composition of the lining of a Shrike's nest. In Florida the
Mockingbird shows a decided preference for the withered leaves and
stems of life-everlasting, better known as the plant that produces
"rabbit tobacco." The nest of the Summer Tanager is made almost
entirely of grasses, the outer half being green, freshly plucked blades
that contrast strikingly with the {29} brown inner layer with which the
nest is lined. Many of the Thrushes make use of large flat leaves, and
also of rags and pieces of paper. Robins stiffen their nests by making
in them a substantial cup of mud, which, when dry, adds greatly to the
solidity of the structure. On the island of Cape Hatteras there are
many sheep, and many Prairie Warblers of the region make their nests
entirely of wool.
The most dainty structure built, in this country, by the bill and feet
of birds, is the nest made by the Ruby-throated Hummingbird. When
completed it is scarcely larger than an English walnut, and is saddled
on a small horizontal limb of a tree, often many feet from the ground.
It is composed almost entirely of soft plant fibres, fragments of
spiders' webs sometimes being used to hold them in shape. The outer
sides are thickly studded with bits of lichen, and practised, indeed,
is the eye of the man or woman that can distinguish it from a knot on a
limb. Although the Hummingbird's nest is exceedingly frail, there is
nothing on record to show that {30} any great number of them come to
grief during the summer rains. It is, however, not called upon for a
long term of occupation. Within a month after the two white eggs are
laid the young depart on their tiny pinions. Young birds that require
a longer period for growth before leaving the nest are furnished
usually with more enduring abiding places. {31} In the case of the
Bald Eagle, the young of which do not fly until they are many weeks
old, a most substantial structure is provided.
[Illustration: Nest of the Ruby-throated Hummingbird]
It was on the twentieth of January, a number of years ago, that the
writer was first delighted by the sight of a Bald Eagle's nest. It was
in an enormous pine tree growing in a swamp in central Florida, and
being ambitious to examine its contents, I determined to climb to the
great eyrie in the topmost crotch of the tree, one hundred and
thirty-one feet above the earth. By means of climbing-irons and a rope
that passed around the tree and around my body, I slowly ascended,
nailing cleats for support as I advanced. After two hours of toil the
nest was reached, but another twenty minutes were required to tear
aside enough of the structure to permit climbing up one of the limbs on
which it rested. In doing this there were brought to view several
layers of decayed twigs, pine straw, and fish bones, showing that the
birds had been using the nest for many years. Season after season the
huge structure had been enlarged by {33} additions until now it was
nearly five feet in thickness and about four feet across the top.
[Illustration: The Bald Eagle's Eyrie]
[Illustration: Gannets nesting on the cliffs. Bonaventure Island, Gulf
of St. Lawrence.]
At this date it contained two fledglings perhaps three weeks old.
Having been led to believe that Eagles were ferocious birds when their
nests were approached, it was with feelings of relief that I noticed
the parents flying about at long rifle-range. The female, which, as is
usual with birds of prey, was the larger of the pair, once or twice
swept within twenty yards of my head, but quickly veered off and
resumed her former action of beating back and forth over the tree-tops
two hundred yards away.
_Nests in Holes._--The members of the Woodpecker family, contrary to
certain popular beliefs, do not lay their eggs in hollow trees but
deposit them in cavities that they excavate for the purpose. The bird
student will soon learn just where to look for the nest of each
species. Thus you may find the nesting cavity of the Red-headed
Woodpecker in a tall stump or dead tree; in some States it is a common
bird in towns, and often digs its cavity in a telephone {34} pole.
Some years ago a pair excavated a nest and reared their young in a
wooden ball on the staff of the dome of the State House in Raleigh,
North Carolina.
On the plains, where trees are few, the telegraph poles provide
convenient nesting sites for Woodpeckers of various species. While
travelling on a slow train through Texas I counted one hundred and
fifty telegraph poles in succession, thirty-nine of which contained
Woodpeckers' holes. Probably I did not see all of them, for not over
two-thirds of the surface of each pole was visible from the car window.
Not all of these holes, of course, were occupied by Woodpeckers in any
one season.
Flickers, or "Yellowhammers," use dead trees as a rule, but sometimes
make use of a living tree by digging the nest out of the dead wood
where a knot hole offers a convenient opening. The only place I have
ever known them regularly to nest in living trees is in the deserts of
Arizona, where the _saguaro_ or "tree cactus" is about the only tree
large enough to be employed for such a purpose. In the {35} Northern
States Flickers sometimes chisel holes through the weatherboarding of
ice-houses and make cavities for their eggs in the tightly packed
sawdust within. They have been known also to lay their eggs in nesting
boxes put up for their accommodation.
In travelling through the pine barrens of the Southern States one
frequently finds grouped about the negroes' cabins and plantation
houses the popular chinaberry, or Pride of India tree. Here are the
places to look for the nest of the Hairy Woodpecker. In that country,
in fact, I have never found a nest of this bird except in the dead,
slanting limb of a chinaberry tree.
The member of this family which displays most originality in its nest
building is the Red-cockaded Woodpecker. It is a Southern bird, and
the abode for its young is always chiselled from a living pitch-pine
tree. This, in itself, is very unusual for any of our eastern
Woodpeckers. The bird, however, has a still stranger habit. For two
or three feet above the {36} entrance hole, and for five or six feet
below it, all around the tree, innumerable small openings are dug
through to the inner bark. From these little wells pour streams of
soft resin that completely cover the bark and give the trunk a white,
glistening appearance, which is visible sometimes for a quarter of a
mile. Just why they do this has never been explained. It is true,
however, that the sticky resin prevents ants and flying squirrels from
reaching the nest, and both of these are known to be troublesome to
eggs and young birds.
A simple plan, which is usually successful in finding out if a
Woodpecker is at home in its nesting hole, is to strike a few sharp
blows on the tree with some convenient club or rock. After a little
treatment of this kind the bird will often come to the entrance and
look down, as if to inquire into the meaning of all the disturbance.
If the nest has been newly made many fragments of small chips of wood
will be found on the ground beneath the tree.
_Variety of Situations._--The student who takes up {37} the subject of
nest architecture will soon be impressed not only with the wide
assortment of materials used, but also with the wonderful variety of
situations chosen.
[Illustration: The Grebe or "Water Witch"]
The Grebe, or "Water Witch," builds one of the most remarkable nests of
any American bird. It is a floating raft, the buoyant part of which is
the green {38} stems of water plants, not bent over, but severed from
their roots and piled across one another. On this platform is
collected decaying vegetation gathered from beneath the water. Here
the eggs are deposited, and are carefully covered with more decaying
vegetation when the bird desires to be absent from the nest.
_Variation in Families._--Sometimes there is wide variety in the
character of the nests of different species classified as belonging to
the same family. The Flycatcher group is a good example of this fact.
Here we have as one member of the family the Kingbird, that makes a
heavy bulky nest often on one of the upper, outermost limbs of an apple
tree. The Wood Pewee's nest is a frail, shallow excuse for a nest,
resting securely on a horizontal limb of some well-grown tree. Then
there is the Phoebe, that plasters its cup-shaped mass of nesting
material with mud, thus securing it to a rafter or other projection
beneath a bridge, outbuilding, or porch roof. Still farther away from
the typical Flycatcher's {39} nest is that made by a perfectly regular
member of the family, the Great-crested Flycatcher. The straw and
other substances it collects as a bed for its eggs and young is carried
into some hollow tree, old Woodpecker hole, or nesting box. Often a
cast-off skin of a snake is used, and sometimes the end is permitted to
hang out of the hole--a sort of "scare-crow," perhaps, intended for the
notice of annoying neighbours.
[Illustration: A male plumbous gnatcatcher feeding young]
_Meagre Nests._--Heretofore, mention has been made only of the nests of
birds built with much labour and usually constructed in trees or
bushes. A very large number of species, however, lay their eggs on the
ground with little or no attempt to gather around or beneath them any
special nesting material. The Killdeer's eggs are simply deposited in
a slight hole scratched in the earth, usually in an open field or on a
rocky hillside. The only lining is a few grass blades or smooth
pebbles. To protect them from enemies the birds depend much upon the
peculiar marking of the eggs, which makes them look like the {40}
ground on which they lie, and this seems to be a sufficient safeguard
for the eggs and offspring of the species. The Nighthawk lays her two
eggs on the bare ground in a field or open woods; and the
Whip-poor-will's nest is on the fallen leaves of a thicket at any spot
which the bird happens to select.
The Gulls so common along our coast and about the larger lakes make
substantial nests, as a rule--but not always. I have found them on the
islands along the coast of Maine containing not a dozen blades of
grass, a seemingly scant protection against the danger of rolling away
to destruction.
On the sandy islands of the Atlantic Coast, from Long Island southward,
many species of Terns make nests by simply burrowing a slight
depression in the sand among the sea-shells. Some of the sea birds of
the far North, as, for example, the Murres and Auks, often lay their
eggs on the shelving cliffs exposed to the sweep of the ocean gales.
These are shaped as if designed by nature to prevent them rolling off
the rocks. They are very large at one {41} end and toward the other
taper sharply. When the wind blows they simply swing around in circles.
Although we sometimes speak of the bird's nest as its home, such really
is not the case, for the nest of the wild bird is simply the cradle for
the young. When the little ones have flown it is seldom that either
they or their parents ever return to its shelter.
{42}
CHAPTER III
DOMESTIC LIFE OF THE BIRDS
It is a privilege to be so situated that one may watch from day to day
the occurrences about a wild bird's nest. Here feathered life reaches
its greatest heights of emotion, and comedies and threatened tragedies
are of daily occurrence. The people we know best are those whom we
have seen at their play and at their work, in moments of elation and
doubt, and in times of great happiness and dire distress. And so it is
that he who has followed the activities of a pair of birds through all
the joys and anxieties of nest building, brooding, and of caring for
the young, may well lay claim to a close acquaintanceship with them.
In watching a nest one will learn, for example, that with most of our
small birds both parents engage in {43} the pleasant duty of feeding
the young, at times shielding the little ones from the hot rays of the
sun with their half-extended wings, and now and then driving away
intruders. The common passerine birds also attend carefully to the
sanitation of the nest and remove the feces, which is inclosed in a
membrane and is thus easily carried in the bill. This is usually
dropped several yards away. If allowed to accumulate on the ground
beneath the nest it might attract the attention of some prowling enemy
and lead to a disastrous discovery.
_Parental Care of Young._--There is a wide difference in the relative
helplessness of nesting birds, and a corresponding difference in the
methods of parental care. The young of praecocial birds are able to
run or swim with their parents almost as soon as hatched, for they not
only have the strength to do this, but their bodies being covered with
down they are protected from the sun or cold. Examples of such birds
are the Quail, Grouse, Sandpipers, Plovers, and Ducks. The young of
these and allied species are {44} able from the beginning to pick up
their food, and they quickly learn from the example of their parents
what is desirable. Soon they are able to shift for themselves,
although one or both of the parents continue to attend them until grown.
With the altricial birds the young are hatched in an absolutely
helpless condition, being both blind and naked, and it is necessary
that they be fed by the parents, not only while occupying the nest, but
also for several weeks afterward. To this group belong most of the
small birds we are accustomed to see about the house. When newly born
the food they receive is first digested in the crop or the stomach of
the parent from which it is regurgitated into the mouth of the young.
Flickers, Hummingbirds, Doves, and some others continue to feed their
young in this manner, but usually the method soon gives way to that,
more commonly observed, of simply supplying soft-bodied insects which
have been captured and killed but not eaten.
In the case of Pelicans, Cormorants, and Ibises, {45} the young thrust
their bills far down the throats of the parents to procure the
regurgitated food. From this custom the ancients may have got the idea
that Pelicans feed their young with their own life blood. The
suggestion still persists, and on the seal of one of our large life
insurance companies of America a Pelican and her young are represented
accompanied with the motto: "I live and die for those I love." The
great seal of the State of Louisiana uses a similar picture without the
motto.
Hawks and Owls tear their prey to pieces and on this the young feed at
infrequent intervals. Sometimes several hours pass between the visits
of the food-laden parents, but the supply is usually adequate when at
length it arrives.
_Sharing the Labours._--Most young birds, however, are fed with great
frequency. For more than an hour one day the writer watched a pair of
Georgia Mockingbirds feeding their young. The one that appeared to be
the female visited the nest with food on an average once every two
minutes, and the male {46} made a similar trip about once in twelve
minutes. He could have done better had he not spent so much time
flying aimlessly about and scolding imaginary enemies.
Some birds have what seem to be very curious habits at the nesting
time. The jealous-hearted Hornbill of the Old World never trusts his
spouse to wander away from the nest after her duties there once begin.
In order that he may always know just where she is he quite willingly
undertakes to supply her with all her food during the days while the
incubation of the eggs is going forward. With mud he daubs up the
entrance to the hollow in the tree where she is sitting, leaving only a
small opening through which food may be passed. When the mud has dried
it becomes very hard and the patient mate is an absolute prisoner until
the day comes when she passes the word to her lord that the eggs have
hatched, and he sets her free.
In our own western country there dwells a bird known as the Phalarope,
the females of which enjoy {47} an immunity from domestic duties that
might cause the lady Hornbill many an envious sigh did she know of the
freedom of her American sister.
Mrs. Phalarope has no intention of being shut in with her eggs for a
month while her mate goes roaming at large about the country, nor has
she any idea of playing the part of the Georgia Mockingbird and
bringing five-sixths of the food which the young require. Her method
of procedure is first to permit her mate to search for a suitable
nesting site. When some sheltered spot in the ground, quite to her
liking, has been found she deposits the eggs and goes her way. Little
companies of female Phalaropes may be seen at this time of the year
frequenting the ponds and sloughs they inhabit. The dutiful and
well-trained males are all at home, where they are responsible for the
entire task of caring for, and incubating, the eggs.
_Length of Mated Life._--The length of time which birds remain mated is
a question often asked but seldom answered satisfactorily. The truth
of the {48} matter is that not much is known about the subject.
Apparently a great many birds return to the same yard and even to the
same tree to build their nest year after year. I say apparently
because such birds are seldom marked in such a way as to enable one to
be positive that they are the identical individuals which came the year
before. It is probably somewhere near the truth to say that most small
birds usually choose the same mates year after year if both survive the
dangers of winter and in spring meet again on their old trysting
grounds. It is safe to assert that as a rule birds retain the same
mates throughout the breeding season if misfortune does not befall one
of them. During the fall and winter months, when the impulses
governing domestic duties are dormant, birds pay little or no attention
to their mates.
[Illustration: A mountain Bluebird family. Its home having been
destroyed it is now enjoying temporary quarters furnished by a kindly
hand.]
_A Much-married Bluebird._--One spring a pair of Bluebirds came into
our yard, and to the accompaniment of much cheerful bird conversation,
in the form of whistles, twitters, chirps, and snatches of {49} song,
began hunting eagerly for some place to locate a nest. Out in the
woodshed I found a box, perhaps six inches square and twice as long.
Cutting a small entrance hole on one side, I fastened the box seven or
eight feet from the ground on the side of a young tree. The newcomers
immediately took possession and began carrying dry grasses into their
adopted sanctuary. Several days elapsed and then one morning, while
standing on the back of a garden settee and peeping into the hole, I
discovered that a pale-blue egg had been laid. When the nest contained
four of these little beauties incubation began.
One rainy night while the mother bird was on duty she must have heard
the scratching of claws on the box outside. A moment later two yellow
eyes blazed at the entrance and a long arm reached into the nest. The
next morning on the grass beneath the window we found her wing tips and
many other fragments of her plumage. All that day the distressed mate
flew about the lawn and called continually. He seemed to gather but
little food and {50} the evidence of his suffering was pitiful. In
fact, he stirred our feelings to such a pitch we at length closed the
windows to shut out the sounds of his mournful calls.
Upon looking out next morning, the first note we heard was that of a
Bluebird, but his voice seemed to have lost some of its sorrow.
Walking around the corner of the house, I found him sitting on a limb
near the box. Two feet from him sat another Bluebird--a female. At
eleven o'clock we saw her clinging to the side of the box and looking
inquiringly into the entrance hole. We knew what this meant;
incidentally we knew, too, that being a ladybird she would have no use
for the nest and eggs that had been placed there by another, so I
cleaned out the box.
We were anxious that the cat should have no chance to destroy our
little friend's second wife, so the box was suspended from a limb by a
wire over two feet in length. Five eggs were laid and the mother bird
began sitting. Then one night the cat {51} found out what was
happening. How she ever succeeded in her undertaking, I know not. She
must have started by climbing the tree and creeping out on the limb. I
have never seen a cat slide down a wire; nevertheless the next morning
the box was tenantless and the feathers of the second female were
scattered over the lawn. This time the Bluebird's heart seemed really
broken and his cries of lamentation filled the grove. Eleven days now
passed before a third soul-mate came to share his fortunes. We could
afford to take no more risks. On a sunny hillside in the garden the
cat was buried, and a few weeks later four little Bluebirds left the
lawn on their own wings.
_The Faithful Canada Geese._--Along the Atlantic Coast, where the
shooting of wildfowl is an important industry with many people, the
raising of Canada Geese is a common custom. Not only do these great
birds serve as food, but they play the part of decoys when their owners
go ahunting. They are genuine Wild Geese, some of them having been
{52} wounded and captured from the great flocks which frequent these
waters during the colder months of the year. They retain their wild
characteristics with great tenacity and it is necessary to keep them
pinioned to prevent their flying away to the North when in spring the
spirit of migration calls aloud to all the bird world.
[Illustration: Canada Geese Decoys]
{53}
The conduct of these decoys indicates that the losing of a mate is a
much more serious matter among them than with the Bluebird and others
of our small feathered friends. When a gander has chosen his goose and
she has accepted his advances, the pair remain constantly together,
summer and winter, as long as they live. If one is killed, many years
may elapse before the survivor selects another companion.
In Currituck County, North Carolina, there was not long ago a gander
that local tradition said was sixty-two years of age. The first thirty
years of his life he remained unmated and for the last thirty-two he
has been the proud possessor of a mate from whose side he has never
strayed.
These Geese do not mate readily, and a man who has a company of thirty
or forty may well be satisfied if six or eight pairs of them are mated.
The truth of this statement is proved by the fact that on the local
market a single Goose is worth about one dollar, while a pair of mated
Geese will readily bring five dollars.
{54}
_Unmated Birds._--A little reflection will make the student realize the
fact that out in the fields and woods, in the swamps and on the
mountains, on the beaches, as well as far away on the ocean, there are
many birds that are not mated. Among them are widows and widowers,
heartfree spinsters and pining bachelors. Just what per cent. of the
bird life is unmated in any one season it would, of course, be
impossible to tell. The information which the writer has gathered by a
careful census of a certain species in a given limited territory
enabled him to determine that in this particular case only about
three-fifths of the individuals are mated any one season.
_Polygamy Among Birds._--As with mankind, some races have
well-developed tendencies toward polygamy. In the warmer regions of
the United States there dwells a great, splendid, glossy Blackbird, the
Boat-tailed Crackle. The nest of this bird is a wonderfully woven
structure of water plants and grasses and is usually built in a bush
growing in the {55} water. When you find one nest of the Crackle you
are pretty certain to find several other occupied nests in the
immediate vicinity. From three to six of these marvellous cradles,
with their quiet brown female owners, often appear to be watched over
by one shining, iridescent lord Crackle, who may be husband to them
all. He guards his own with jealous care. Evidently, too, he desires
the whole country to know that he is the most handsome, ferocious bird
on the earth; for all day long his hoarse shoutings may be heard, and
when he launches into the air, the sound of the ponderous beating of
his wings can, on a still day, be heard half a mile away, across the
lake.
One of the best-known polygamous birds of North America is the Wild
Turkey. Go into any part of the country where this fast-disappearing
game bird still survives, and the experienced local gunners will tell
you that in the mating season you will usually find a gobbler
accompanied by two or more Turkey hens. When a female gets ready to
make her nest she slips away from her sultan and the other members {56}
of the seraglio and, going to some broom-sedge field or open place in
the woods, constructs her nest on the ground beneath some slight,
convenient shelter. Day after day she absents herself for a short
time, and the speckled treasures grow in number until from twelve to
fifteen have been deposited. All this time her movements are
characterized by absolute secrecy, for if the gobbler by any chance
comes upon the nest he immediately breaks every egg. He is perhaps
wise enough to know that when his hens begin to set lonely times are in
store for him.
_The Outcast._--One of our wild birds whose domestic relations are not
fully understood is strongly suspected of being promiscuously
polygamous. Suspicion on this point is heightened by the fact that it
never has a nest even of the most humble character, and shuns
absolutely all the ordinary dangers and responsibilities of parentage.
We call this seemingly unnatural creature the Cowbird, probably because
it is often seen feeding in pastures {57} among cattle, where it
captures many insects disturbed into activity by the movements of the
browsing animals.
The Cowbird lays its eggs in the nests of various other birds,
distributing them about the neighbourhood. Here they are left to be
hatched and the young to be reared by the foster parents. Cowbird's
eggs have been found in the nests of nearly one hundred species of
birds, and nearly always the nest of some smaller bird is chosen.
Despite this fact the Cowbird's eggs are often first to hatch. The
young grow rapidly and, being strong and aggressive, not only secure
the lion's share of the food, but frequently crowd the young of the
rightful owner out of the nest to perish on the ground beneath.
As soon as the young leave the nest the greedy Cowbird follows the
little mother about the thickets, shouting loudly for food. Its fierce
clamour drowns the weaker cries of the legitimate young, which I have
reason to believe even then often die for lack {58} of nourishment. So
insistent is the young Cowbird and so persistently does it pursue the
foster parent that it is well cared for and invariably thrives. It is
no uncommon sight, during the days of June and July, to see a worn,
bedraggled Song Sparrow {59} working desperately in a frantic effort to
feed one or more great hulking Cowbirds twice its size. It is little
wonder that discerning people are not fond of the Cowbird. Even the
birds seem to regard it as an outcast from avian society, and rarely
associate with it on friendly terms. This is the only species of North
American birds that exhibits such depravity.
[Illustration: The Greedy Young Cowbird]
All other birds display great willingness to attend to their home
duties, and often give evidence of keen delight while so engaged. One
of the most exquisite and dainty forms of bird life found in the United
States is the little Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. When occupied in building
the nest, which is usually saddled on the limb of some forest tree, the
birds call to each other constantly; and even after the eggs are laid
there is no attempt to restrain their expressions of happiness. Unlike
the Crow and Jay, that sometimes appropriate the nests of other birds,
these little creatures have no sins to answer for to their neighbours.
One of the most pleasing sights I {60} have witnessed was a male
Gnatcatcher that had relieved his mate at the nest. He was sitting on
the eggs and, with head thrown back, sang with all his might,
apparently unconscious of the evil which such gaiety might bring upon
his household.
{61}
CHAPTER IV
THE MIGRATION OF BIRDS
There is something fascinating about the word migration. It sends our
minds back to the dim stories of tribal movements carved on the rocks
by men who wrought in the dawn of history. We wonder at the compelling
force that drove our ancestors through the forests of northern Germany,
or caused the Aztecs to cross the Mexican deserts. It calls to
something in our blood, for even the most stolid must at times hearken
to the Pied Piper and with Kipling feel that "On the other side the
world we're overdue."
Man is not alone the possessor of the migrating passion. Menhaden, in
vast schools, sweep along our Atlantic Coast in their season. From
unknown regions of the ocean herring and salmon return to {62} the
streams of their nativity when the spirit of migration sweeps over the
shoals into the abysmal depths. There are butterflies that in
companies rise from mud puddles beside the road and go dancing away to
the South in autumn. The caribou, in long streams, come southward over
the barrens of Labrador when the word is passed, and even squirrels,
over extended regions, have been known to migrate en masse for hundreds
of miles. There is, however, no phase of the life of birds which is
quite so distinctive. The extent and duration of their migrations are
among the most wonderful phenomena of the natural world.
Ornithologists have gathered much information regarding their coming
and going, but knowledge on many of the points involved is incomplete.
It is only of recent years that the nest of the Solitary Sandpiper has
been found, and yet this is a very common bird in the eastern United
States in certain seasons. Where is the scientist who can yet tell us
in what country the common Chimney Swift {63} passes the winter, or
over what stretches of sea and land the Arctic Tern passes when
journeying between its summer home in the Arctic seas and its winter
abode in the Antarctic wastes? The main fact, however, that the great
majority of birds of the Northern Hemisphere go south in autumn and
return in spring, is well known.
_Moulting._--By the time the young are able to care for themselves the
plumage of the hard-working parents is worn and frayed and a new suit
of feathers becomes necessary. They do not acquire this all at once.
The feathers drop out gradually from the various feather tracts over
the body, and their places are at once taken by a new growth. While
this is going on the birds are less in evidence than at other times.
They keep out of sight and few song notes are heard. Perhaps there is
some irritation and unpleasantness connected with moulting which causes
a dejection of spirit.
With swimming water birds the wing quills disappear nearly all at once
and the birds are unable {64} for a short time to fly; but being at
home in the water, where they secure their food, they are not left in
the helpless, even desperate, condition in which a land bird would find
itself if unable to fly. In a few cases birds begin to migrate before
this moulting takes place, but with the great majority the moult is
complete before they leave their summer homes.
_Why Birds Migrate._--Why birds migrate we can only conjecture.
Without doubt the growing scarcity of food in autumn is the controlling
factor with many of them; and this would seem to be an excellent reason
for leaving the region of their summer sojourn. Cold weather alone
would not drive all of them southward, else why do many small birds
pass the winter in northern latitudes where severe climatic conditions
prevail? Should we assume the failing food supply to be the sole cause
of migration, we would find ourselves at fault when we came to consider
that birds leave the tropic regions in spring, when food is still
exceedingly abundant, and journey northward thousands of miles to their
former summer haunts.
[Illustration: Young robins quarreling at their bath. Photographed in
the yard of Mrs. Granville Pike, North Yakima, Washington]
{65}
There is a theory held by many naturalists that the migrating instinct
dates back to the glacial period. According to this theory North
America was inhabited originally by non-migrating birds. Then the
great Arctic ice-cap began to move southward and the birds were forced
to flee before it or starve. Now and then during the subsequent period
the ice receded and the birds returned, only to be driven again before
the next onrush of the Ice King. Thus during these centuries of
alternate advance and retreat of the continental glacier, the birds
acquired a habit, which later became an instinct, of retreating
southward upon the approach of cold weather and coming back again when
the ice and snow showed indications of passing away.
_The Gathering Flocks._--To the bird student there is keen delight in
watching for the first spring arrivals and noting their departure with
the dying year. It is usually in August that we first observe an
unwonted restlessness on the part of our birds which tells us that they
have begun to hear the call of the {66} South. The Blackbirds assemble
in flocks and drift aimlessly about the fields. Every evening for
weeks they will collect a chattering multitude in the trees of some
lawn, or in those skirting a village street, and there at times cause
great annoyance to their human neighbours.
Across the Hudson River from New York, in the Hackensack marshes,
behind the Palisades, clouds of Swallows collect in the late summer
evenings, and for many days one may see them from the car windows as
they glide through the upper air or swarm to roost among the rushes.
These Swallows and the Blackbirds are getting together before starting
on their fall migration.
In Greensboro, North Carolina, there is a small grove of trees
clustered about the courthouse which is a very busy place during the
nights of summer. Here, before the first of July, Purple Martins begin
to collect of an evening. In companies of hundreds and thousands, they
whirl about over the tops of the houses, alight in the trees, and then
almost {67} immediately dash upward and away again. Not till dark do
they finally settle to roost. Until late at night a great chorus of
voices may be heard among the branches. The multitude increases daily
for six or eight weeks, additions, in the form of new family groups,
constantly augmenting their numbers. Some time in September the
migration call reaches the Martins, and, yielding to its spell, they at
once depart toward their winter home in tropical South America.
_The Usual Movement._--Many of our smaller birds, such as Warblers and
Vireos, do not possess a strong flocking instinct, but, nevertheless,
they may be seen associated in numbers during the season of the
northern and southern movements. Such birds migrate chiefly at night
and have been observed through telescopes at high altitudes. Such
observations are made by pointing the telescope at the disk of the full
moon on clear nights. On cloudy or foggy nights the birds fly lower,
as may be known by the clearer sounds of their calls as they pass over;
at times one may even hear the flutter of their wings. There is a {68}
good reason for their travelling at this time, as they need the
daylight for gathering food.
There appear to be certain popular pathways of migration along which
many, though by no means all, of the aerial voyageurs wing their way.
As to the distribution of these avian highways, we know at least that
the coastlines of the continents are favourite routes. Longfellow, in
the valley of the Charles, lived beneath one of these arteries of
migration, and on still autumn nights often listened to the voices of
the migrating hosts, "falling dreamily through the sky."
A small number of the species migrate by day; among these are the
Hawks, Swallows, Ducks, and Geese. The last two groups also travel by
night. The rate at which they proceed on their journey is not as great
as was formerly supposed. From twenty to thirty miles an hour is the
speed generally taken, and perhaps fifty miles an hour is the greatest
rapidity attained. Flights are usually not long sustained, a hundred
and fifty miles a day being above the {69} average. Individuals will
at times pause and remain for a few days in a favourable locality
before proceeding farther. When large bodies of water are encountered
longer flights are of course necessary, for land birds cannot rest on
the water as their feathers would soon become water-soaked and drowning
would result. Multitudes of small birds, including even the little
Ruby-throated Hummingbird, annually cross the Gulf of Mexico at a
single flight. This necessitates a continuous journey of from five
hundred to seven hundred miles. Some North American birds migrate
southward only a few hundred miles to pass the winter, while many
others go from Canada and the United States to Mexico, Central and
South America.
The ponds and sloughs of all that vast country lying between the Great
Lakes and Hudson Bay on the east and the mountains of the Far West,
constitute the principal nursery of North American waterfowl, whence,
in autumn, come the flocks of Ducks and Geese that in winter darken the
Southern {70} sounds and lakes. One stream moves down the Pacific
Coast, another follows the Mississippi Valley to the marshes of
Louisiana and Texas, while a third passes diagonally across the country
in a southeasterly direction until it reaches the Maryland and Virginia
coastline. Thence the birds disperse along the coastal country from
Maine to Florida.
[Illustration: Migration Routes of Some North American Birds]
_The Travelling Shore Birds._--Turnstones, Sanderlings, Curlews, and
other denizens of the beaches and salt marshes migrate in great numbers
along our Atlantic Coast. Some of them winter in the United States,
and others pass on to the West Indies and southward. The extent of the
annual journeys undertaken by some of these birds is indeed marvellous.
Admiral Peary has told me that he found shore birds on the most
northern land, where it slopes down into the Arctic Sea, less than five
hundred miles from the North Pole; and these same birds pass the winter
seven thousand miles south of their summer home. One of these
wonderful migrants is the Golden Plover. In autumn the birds leave
{72} eastern North America at Nova Scotia, striking out boldly across
the Atlantic Ocean, and they may not again sight land until they reach
the West Indies or the northern coast of South America. Travelling, as
they do, in a straight line, they ordinarily pass eastward of the
Bermuda Islands. Upon reaching South America, after a flight of two
thousand four hundred miles across the sea, they move on down to
Argentina and northern Patagonia. In spring they return by an entirely
different route. Passing up through western South America, and
crossing the Gulf of Mexico, these marvellous travellers follow up the
Mississippi Valley to their breeding grounds on the shores of the
Arctic Ocean. Their main lines of spring and fall migration are
separated by as much as two thousand miles. During the course of the
year the Golden Plover takes a flight of sixteen thousand miles.
_The World's Migrating Champion._--The bird which makes the longest
flight, according to the late Wells W. Cooke, America's greatest
authority on bird migration, is the Arctic Tern. Professor Cooke, to
{73} whom we owe so much of our knowledge of the subject, says of this
bird:
"It deserves its title of 'arctic' for it nests as far North as land
has been discovered; that is, as far North as the bird can find
anything stable on which to construct its nest. Indeed, so arctic are
the conditions under which it breeds that the first nest found by man
in this region, only seven and one-half degrees from the pole,
contained a downy chick surrounded by a wall of newly fallen snow that
had been scooped out of the nest by the parent. When the young are
full grown the entire family leaves the Arctic, and several months
later they are found skirting the edge of the Antarctic continent.
"What their track is over that eleven thousand miles of intervening
space no one knows. A few scattered individuals have been noted along
the United States coast south to Long Island, but the great flocks of
thousands and thousands of these Terns which range from pole to pole
have never been noted by ornithologists competent to indicate their
{74} preferred route and their time schedule. The Arctic Terns arrive
in the Far North about June fifteenth and leave about August
twenty-fifth, thus staying fourteen weeks at the nesting site. They
probably spend a few weeks longer in the winter than in the summer
home, and this would leave them scarcely twenty weeks for the round
trip of twenty-two thousand miles. Not less than one hundred and fifty
miles in a straight line must be their daily task, and this is
undoubtedly multiplied several times by their zigzag twistings and
turnings in pursuit of food.
"The Arctic Tern has more hours of daylight and sunlight than any other
animal on the globe. At the most northern nesting site the midnight
sun has already appeared before the birds' arrival, and it never sets
during their entire stay at the breeding grounds. During two months of
their sojourn in the Antarctic the birds do not see a sunset, and for
the rest of the time the sun dips only a little way below the horizon
and broad daylight is continuous. The birds, therefore, have
twenty-four hours of daylight for at least {75} eight months in the
year, and during the other four months have considerably more daylight
than darkness."
_Perils of Migration._--The periods of migration are fraught with
numerous perils for the travelling hosts. Attracted and blinded by the
torches of lighthouses, multitudes of birds are annually killed by
striking against lighthouse towers in thick, foggy weather. The keeper
of the Cape Hatteras light once showed me a chipped place in the lens
which he said had been made by the bill of a great white Gannet which
one thick night crashed through the outer protecting glass of the
lighthouse lamp. As many as seven hundred birds in one month have
killed themselves by flying against the Bartholdi Statue of Liberty in
New York Harbour. As its torch is no longer lighted the death-rate
here has been greatly reduced, although some birds are still killed by
flying against the statue. Many were formerly killed by striking the
Washington Monument, the record for one night being one hundred and
fifty dead birds.
{76}
Locomotive engineers have stated that in foggy weather birds often hurl
themselves against the headlight and frequently their bodies are later
picked up from the engine platform beneath. Birds seem rarely to lose
their sense of direction, and they pursue their way for hundreds of
miles across the trackless ocean. Terns, Gulls, and Murres are known
to go many miles in quest of food for their young and return through
dense fogs with unerring directness to their nests.
[Illustration: Lighthouses Cause the Death of Many Birds]
During the spring it is not uncommon for strange waterfowl to be found
helpless in the streets or fields of a region in which they are
ordinarily unknown. These birds have become exhausted during the storm
of the night before, or have been injured by striking telephone or
telegraph wires, an accident which often happens. Once I picked up a
Loon after a stormy night. Apparently it had recovered its strength
after a few hours' rest, but, as this bird can rise on the wing only
from a body of water, over the surface of which it can paddle and flap
for many rods, and as {78} there was no pond or lake in all the
neighbouring country, the Loon's fate was evident from the first.
Birds are often swept to sea by storm winds from off shore. Vainly
they beat against the gale or fly on quivering wings before its blast,
until the hungry waves swallow their weary bodies. One morning in
northern Lake Michigan I found a Connecticut Warbler lying dead on the
deck beneath my stateroom window after a stormy night of wind and rain.
Overtaken many miles from shore, this little waif had been able to
reach the steamer on the deck of which it had fallen exhausted and
died. What of its companions of the night before?
On May 3, 1915, I was on a ship two hundred miles off Brunswick,
Georgia. That day the following birds came aboard, all in an exhausted
condition: Brown Creeper, Spotted Sandpiper, Green Heron, and
Yellow-billed Cuckoo. We also encountered three flocks of Bobolinks,
which for some distance flew beside the ship. They appeared to be
lost, for they all left us finally, flying straight ahead of the ship,
{79} which was bound South, yet birds were supposed to be going North
at this season. I wonder if in their bewilderment they mistook the
ship for some immense bird pointing the way to land and safety!
[Illustration: Tired Migrating Birds Often Alight on Ships]
_Keeping Migration Records._--More than thirty {80} years ago the
United States Government put into operation a plan for collecting and
tabulating information concerning the dates on which migratory birds
reach various points in their journeys. More than two thousand
different observers located in various parts of the country have
contributed to these records, many of the observers reporting annually
through a long series of years. As a result of this carefully gathered
material, with the addition of many data collected from other sources,
there is now on file in Washington an immense volume of valuable
information, much of which, in condensed printed form, is obtainable by
the public. This work was in charge of Professor Wells W. Cooke,
Biologist, in the Biological Survey of the United States Department of
Agriculture until his lamented death in the spring of 1916. Who will
take charge of it hereafter is not yet determined; but students may
obtain from the director of the Survey migration schedule blanks upon
application, and bulletins describing the emigration habits of various
North American birds. {81} Watching for the annual appearance of the
first individual of each species is most fascinating occupation.
[Illustration: Feeding station for birds on the grounds of R. G.
Decker, Rhinebeck, New York. The glass sides prevent the seeds from
being blown off the tray a foot or more below the roof.]
Note.--Government bulletins on the migration of various North American
birds may be obtained free, or at slight cost, by addressing H. W.
Henshaw, Chief Biological Survey, Department of Agriculture,
Washington, D. C.
{82}
CHAPTER V
THE BIRDS IN WINTER
With the approach of winter the country loses its charm for many people.
The blossoms and verdure, so common yet so beloved by all, have departed,
and only the brown expanses of dead grass and weeds relieve the blackness
of the forest trees. Even ardent nature lovers have been known to
forsake their walks at this season when the songs of the birds have
ceased and the forest boughs give forth only sobs and shrieks as they
sway to the strength of the north winds.
_A Good Time for Field Walks._--Nevertheless winter is a good time for
the bird student to go afield. If the wild life is less abundant, so is
the human life, and you have the country almost to yourself. If you but
say in your heart, "I will go and see what may be {83} found," you will
later rejoice, for with the falling of the leaves many of Nature's
secrets, which she has jealously guarded through the summer months, stand
revealed. Among the naked branches of the briars you may find the
Catbird's nest which defied all search last June. It will be a comfort
to learn that the bird really did have a nest just about the place you
thought it was located. Many other pleasing surprises await you in the
winter woods.
_The Downy's Winter Quarters._--One late autumn day I stopped to watch a
Junco feeding among some weed stalks near a hillside trail. After
remaining motionless for a minute or two I became conscious of a light
muffled tapping somewhere near by. It did not take long to locate the
sound. On the underside of a slanting decayed limb, twenty feet above,
was a new, well-rounded hole perhaps an inch in diameter. Even as I
looked the occupant came to the entrance and threw out a billful of small
chips. When these fell, I saw that the dead leaves on the earth beneath
had been well sprinkled by previous ejections {84} of the same nature. I
had discovered a Downy Woodpecker at work on his winter bedroom, and
later I had reason to believe that he made this his nightly retreat
during the cold months that followed.
Chancing to pass this way one dark cloudy morning, it occurred to me to
look and see if he had yet left his bed. Striking the limb near the hole
I was rewarded by seeing a little black-and-white head poked out
inquiringly. Fearing he might be resentful if such treatment were
repeated, I never afterward disturbed my little neighbour while he was
taking his morning nap. But I had learned this much, that one Downy at
least sometimes liked to be abed on cold mornings. Perhaps he knew that
there was no early worm about at this season.
_Birds and the Night._--It may be that others of our winter birds also
make excavations for sleeping quarters; the Chickadee and Nuthatch very
probably do so, although I have never found them thus engaged. It is
well known that many small birds creep into holes to pass the night. Old
nesting {85} places of Woodpeckers are thus again rendered useful, and
many of the natural cavities of trees contain, during the hours of
darkness, the little warm, pulsating bodies of birds.
Quails invariably roost on the ground regardless of the time of year, or
the prevailing weather conditions. An entire covey numbering sometimes
twelve or fifteen will settle for the night in a compact circular group
with heads pointed outward. When a heavy snow falls they are completely
buried, and then if a hard crust forms before morning their roosting
place becomes their tomb. Grouse now and then are trapped in the same
way, but their superior strength enables them to break through and
escape. In fact, these larger birds often deliberately go to roost
beneath the snow, breaking through the crust by a swift plunging dive
from the air. Bearing these facts in mind it is easy to understand why
Quails often become scarce in a country where Grouse abound.
Small birds pass the winter nights in evergreens, thick-growing vines,
under the eaves of verandas, or {86} on the rafters of bridges. Many
creep into cracks of outhouses. I have found them at night in caves,
barns, and once in a covered wagon. Almost any available shelter may
have its bird tenant on cold nights, who if undisturbed will often return
again and again to the refuge it has once found safe and comfortable.
Birds that pass the winter in the Northern States are subjected to many
hardships. In fact, the fatalities in the bird world in winter are so
great, and the population so constantly reduced by one form of tragedy or
another, that it is only the stronger and more fortunate individuals of a
species that survive to enjoy the summer.
_The Food Question in Winter._--Where to secure the food is the big
question which confronts every bird when it opens its eyes on the first
snowy morning of winter. Not only has the whole aspect of the country
been changed, but the old sources of food have passed away. Not a
caterpillar is to be found on the dead leaves, and not a winged insect is
left to come flying {87} by; hence other food must be looked for in new
directions. Emboldened by hunger, the Starlings alight at the kitchen
door, and the Juncos, Sparrows, Downy Woodpeckers, and Nuthatches come to
feed on the window-sill. Jays and Meadowlarks haunt the manure piles or
haystacks in search of fragments of grain. Purple Finches flock to the
wahoo elm trees to feed on the buds, and Crossbills attack the pine
cones. Even the wary Ruffed Grouse will leave the shelter of the barren
woods, and the farmer finds her in the morning sitting among the branches
of his apple tree, relieving the twigs of their buds. In every field a
multitude of weed stalks and stout grass stems are holding their heads
above the snow tightly clasping their store of seeds until members of the
Sparrow family shall thrash them out against the frozen crust beneath.
Among those which are forced to become largely vegetarian in winter is
the Bluebird. In summer he is passionately fond of grasshoppers,
cutworms, and _Arctia_ caterpillars, but now he wanders sadly over {88}
the country of his winter range in quest of the few berries to be found
in the swamps and along the hedgerows. The Crow is another bird often
met in winter walks, for he, too, in many cases spurns the popular
movement southward in the fall, and severe indeed must be the weather
before he forsakes his former haunts. You will find him feeding along
the banks of streams or in the open spots in the fields, or {89} again in
the woods pecking rotten stumps or fallen limbs in search of dormant
beetles.
[Illustration: Grouse "Budding" in an Apple Tree]
Fifty-five species of Warblers inhabit North America. These birds are
insectivorous in their feeding habits, which of course also means that
they are migratory. A partial exception to the rule is found in the
common Myrtle Warbler. Although in winter these birds range south to
Panama, many remain as far north as New Jersey, Kansas, and the Ohio
Valley. This does not mean that insects are found in these regions in
sufficient numbers to supply the larder of the Myrtle Warblers, but it
does mean that they find acceptable substitutes for their usual food.
Oddly enough, what they depend on is not animal matter in any form, but
consists of berries which contain some of the essential food properties
of fatty meats. One of the most popular with them is the common bayberry.
Among the sand dunes of the extensive "Banks" along the North Carolina
coast there grows in great profusion a small bushy tree known as the
yaupon. {90} The young leaves of this when dried and steeped make a very
acceptable drink, and during the hungry days of the Civil War when the
Federal blockade became effective the people of the region used this as a
substitute for tea and coffee. The yaupon produces in great abundance a
berry that is so highly esteemed by the Myrtle Warblers that they pass
the winter in these regions in numbers almost incredible.
_When the Food Supply Fails._--It is hard to realize the extent of the
havoc wrought among birds by cold, snowy weather. Early in the year 1895
a long, severe cold spell, accompanied by snow and sleet, almost
exterminated the Bluebird in the eastern United States. The bodies of no
less than twenty-four of these birds were found in the cavity of one
tree. It looked as if they had crowded together with the hope of keeping
warm. It was not the cold alone which had destroyed the birds: a famine
had preceded the cold snap, and the birds, weakened by hunger, were ill
prepared to withstand its rigours.
One winter some years ago a prolonged freezing {91} wave swept over our
South Atlantic States, and played havoc with the Woodcock in South
Carolina. This is what happened: the swamps in the upper reaches of the
Pee Dee, the Black, and Waccamaw rivers were frozen solid, and the
Woodcock, that in winter abound in this region, were thus driven to the
softer grounds farther downstream. The cold continued and the frozen
area followed the birds. The Woodcock, unable to drive their long bills
into the once-responsive mud, were forced to continue their flight toward
the coast in search of open ground where worms could be found. When at
length they reached Winyaw Bay, where these rivers converge, they were at
the point of exhaustion. Thousands of the emaciated birds swarmed in the
streets and gardens of Georgetown. They were too weak to fly, and
negroes killed them with sticks and offered baskets of these wasted
bodies, now worthless as food, for a few cents a dozen. Several
shipments were made to Northern cities by local market men, who hoped to
realize something by their industry.
{92}
Of the Wild Ducks which remain North in the winter many die because of
the freezing of the water in which they must dive or dabble for their
food. On the morning of February 11, 1912, Cayuga Lake in western New
York State was found to be covered with a solid sheet of ice from end to
end. It is a large body of water, having an area of nearly sixty-seven
square miles. It rarely freezes over--only once in about twenty years,
as the records show. The Ducks inhabiting the lake at this time were
caught unawares. Many of them moved quickly to more Southern waters, but
others tarried, evidently hoping for better times. Subsequently a few
air-holes opened and the Ducks gathered about them, but there was little
food even here, and numbers starved to death. One observer who went out
to the air-holes reported examining the bodies of twenty-eight
Canvas-backs and nineteen Scaups in addition to many others such as
Redheads and Golden-eyes. His survey was not exhaustive and the Gulls
had doubtless removed many bodies from the territory {93} he visited.
When the surface of lakes and bays freezes suddenly in the night Ducks
are sometimes caught and held fast by the ice adhering to their feathers
and legs. In this condition they are utterly unable to escape the
attacks of man and beast, and in the latitude of New York captures in
this way are now and then reported.
_Wild Fowl Destroyed in the Oil Fields._--In the oil fields of the
Southwest and old Mexico the surface of many ponds is covered with oil
into which unsuspecting flocks of Ducks alight never again to emerge
until their dead bodies drift to the shore. It was on November 27, 1912,
that the naval tank ship _Arethusa_ steamed into the harbour of
Providence, Rhode Island, with a cargo of crude oil. For several days
following her bilge pumps sent overboard a continuous stream of water and
oil seepage. On December 3d the following news-item appeared in the
_Providence Daily Bulletin_, "The east shore of the lower harbour and
upper bay, from Wilkesbarre pier to Riverside and below, is strewn with
the bodies of dead {94} Wild Ducks, which began to drift ashore
yesterday. The wildfowl came into the bay in enormous flocks about the
middle of November and have since been seen flying about or feeding in
the shallow water, as is usual at this time of year. As no such amount
of oil, it is believed, was ever let loose into the bay at one time
before, and as Ducks along the shore, dead from poisoning, have never
been seen before, it is reasonable to connect the two occurrences."
_Hunting Winter Birds._--Birds are to be found in winter in nearly every
neighbourhood, and it is astonishing under what adverse natural
conditions one may find them. As I write these lines on a dark February
afternoon, here in New York City, I can see through the window a Starling
sitting ruffled up on the bare twig of an elm tree. Every minute or two
he calls, and as he is looking this way perhaps he is growing impatient
for the little girl of the house to give him his daily supply of crumbs.
A few minutes ago there was a Downy on the trunk of the same tree, and
out over the Harlem River I see a flock of {95} Herring Gulls passing, as
their custom is in the late afternoon.
Several years ago Dr. Frank M. Chapman sent out a notice to bird students
that he would be pleased to have them make a record of the birds to be
seen in their different neighbourhoods on Christmas.
Many responded, and he published their reports in his magazine
_Bird-Lore_. This aroused so much interest that bird observers all over
the country now have a regular custom of following this practice. In the
January-February, 1916, issue of _Bird-Lore_ appears the results of the
last census which was taken on December 25, 1915. By examining this one
may get a good idea of the birds to be found in various communities at
this season. Some of the lists were very large, ninety-three specimens
being noted in the one sent by Ludlow Griscom, from St. Marks, Florida.
The largest number reported by any of the observers was 221, seen in the
neighbourhood of Los Angeles, California. The following are reports from
typical sections:
{96}
_Wolfville, N. S._--Dec. 25; 10 A. M. to 12.30 P. M. Cloudless; 5 inches
of light snow; no wind; temperature 30 degrees. Herring Gull, 2; Black
Duck, 100; Canada Ruffed Grouse, 4; Downy Woodpecker, 1; Northern Raven,
1; Crow, 6; Goldfinch, 11; Vesper Sparrow, 1 (collected for positive
identification); Black-capped Chickadee, 7; Acadian Chickadee, 2;
Golden-crowned Kinglet, 5. Total, 11 species, 140 individuals. Dec. 20,
a flock of 8 to 10 American Crossbills.--R. W. TUFTS.
_Tilton, N. H._--Dec. 25; 8.20 A. M. to 12.30 P. M. Cloudy, changing to
light rain; a little snow on ground; wind light, south-east; temperature
38 degrees. Blue Jay, 1; White-breasted Nuthatch, 1; Chickadee, 6;
Golden-crowned Kinglet, 2. Total, 4 species, 10 individuals. Birds seem
unusually scarce this winter.--GEORGE L. PLIMPTON and EDWARD H. PERKINS.
_Bridgewater, Mass._--Dec. 25; 8 to 10 A. M. Cloudy; ground bare; wind
southeast, moderate; temperature 27 degrees to 42 degrees. Red-tailed
Hawk, 2; Northern Flicker, 3; Blue Jay, 3; American Crow, 80; Starling,
6; Meadowlark, 2; Goldfinch, 7; Junco, 5; Song Sparrow, 42; Swamp
Sparrow, 2; Myrtle Warbler, 50; Brown Creeper, 2; Chickadee, 50;
Golden-crowned Kinglet, 3. Total, 14 species, 256 individuals.--HORACE
A. MCFARLIN.
_Fairfield, Conn. (Birdcraft Sanctuary, 10 acres)._--Dec. 25, Herring
Gull, 4; Red-tailed Hawk, 2; Sparrow Hawk, 1; Hairy Woodpecker, 1; Downy
Woodpecker, 5; Blue Jay, 4; Crow, 8; Starling, flock of 50; Meadowlark,
2; Purple Finch, 10; Goldfinch, 3; White-throated Sparrow, 4; Tree
Sparrow, 15; Junco, 30; Song Sparrow, 7; Fox Sparrow, 1; Myrtle Warbler,
12; Brown Creeper, 3; White-breasted Nuthatch, 2; Chickadee, 10;
Golden-crowned Kinglet, 5; Robin, 2. Total, 22 species, 181
individuals.--FRANK NOVAK, Warden.
_New York City (Central Park)._--Dec. 25; 9 A. M. to 1 P. M. Cloudy;
ground mostly bare, with some remaining patches of snow; wind southeast,
light; temperature 45 degrees to 54 degrees. Herring Gull, 70; Black
Duck, 1; Downy Woodpecker, 2; Starling, 24; Junco, 4; Song Sparrow, 2;
Cardinal, 2; Chickadee, 5. Total, 8 species, 110 individuals.--MR. and
MRS. G. CLYDE FISHER.
[Illustration: A Snowy Egret that came home to die. It was shot on its
feeding-grounds, and then flew several miles and died on its nest in the
Audubon Society's Reservation at Orange Lake, Florida.]
{97}
_Rhinebeck, N. Y._--Dec. 25; 8 A. M. to 1 P. M. Cloudy; deep snow; wind
south, light; temperature 40 degrees. American Merganser, 2; Ring-necked
Pheasant, 30; Gray Partridge, 5; Marsh Hawk, 1; Barred Owl, 1; Hairy
Woodpecker, 4; Downy Woodpecker, 8 (drums and utters long call);
yellow-bellied Sapsucker, 1 male; Blue Jay, 10; Crow, 15; Purple Finch,
15; Goldfinch, 6; Junco, 12; Song Sparrow, 1; Tree Sparrow, 13; Brown
Creeper, 3; White-breasted Nuthatch, 20; Chickadee, 25 (whistles). Total
18 species, 171 individuals.--MRS. J. F. GOODWELL, TRACY, DOWS, and
MAUNSELL S. CROSBY.
_Hackettstown, N. J._--Dec. 22; 8.30 to 10.45 A. M. and 2.15 to 4.50 P.
M. Fair; remains of 16 in. snow, ground partly bare, partly with deep
drifts; temperature 20 degrees. Pheasant, 2; Sparrow Hawk, 1; Downy
Woodpecker, 4; Blue Jay, 1; Crow, 4; Starling, 11; Meadowlark, 13;
Goldfinch, 1; Tree Sparrow, 6; Junco, 14; Song Sparrow, 3; Brown Creeper,
2; White-breasted Nuthatch, 2; Chickadee, 11; Golden-crowned Kinglet, 1;
Robin, 1; Bluebird, 2. Total, 17 species, 79 individuals.--MARY PIERSON
ALLEN.
_Doylestown, Pa._--Dec. 25; 10 A. M. to 2.30 P. M. Fair; ground
snow-covered; wind southwest; temperature 40 degrees. Red-shouldered
Hawk, 1; Sparrow Hawk, 1; Hairy Woodpecker, 1; Downy Woodpecker, 3; Blue
Jay, 5; Crow, 7; Starling, 10; Meadowlark, 3; Purple Finch, 3; Tree
Sparrow, 8; Junco, 42; Song Sparrow, 4; Cardinal, 2; White-breasted
Nuthatch, 3; Tufted Titmouse, 5; Black-capped Chickadee, 16; Robin, 1;
Bluebird, 2. Total, 18 species, 117 individuals--DOYLESTOWN NATURE CLUB,
per Miss ELIZABETH COX.
_Lexington, N. C._--Dec. 27; 9.30 A. M. to 4.30 P. M. Fair to hazy;
ground bare; wind southeast to south, light; temperature 44 degrees to 50
degrees. Mourning Dove, 1; Turkey Vulture, 21; Sparrow Hawk, 1; Downy
Woodpecker, 1; Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, 2; Northern Flicker, 9; Blue
Jay, 12; Crow, 15; Purple Finch, 10; Goldfinch, 13; White-throated
Sparrow, 50; Chipping Sparrow, 15; Field Sparrow, 30; Slate-coloured
Junco, 100; Song Sparrow, 26; Fox Sparrow, 2; Towhee, 4; Cardinal, 20;
{98} Mockingbird, 5; Carolina Wren, 12; House Wren, 2; Long-billed Marsh
Wren, 1; White-breasted Nuthatch, 4; Tufted Titmouse, 4; Carolina
Chickadee, 20; Golden-crowned Kinglet, 3; Bluebird, 8. Total, 27
species, 391 individuals.--THEODORE ANDREWS.
_Columbia, S. C. (Outskirts)._--Dec. 27; 11 A. M. to 1 P. M. Clear;
ground bare; wind southwest, light; temperature 47 degrees. Black
Vulture, 30; Red-tailed Hawk, 2; Red-headed Woodpecker, 6; Flicker, 1;
Blue Jay, 12; Goldfinch, 7; White-throated Sparrow, 15; Slate-coloured
Junco, 35; Song Sparrow, 6; Red-eyed Towhee, 3; Loggerhead Shrike, 1;
Mockingbird, 3; Carolina Wren, 7; Brown Creeper, 1; Carolina Chickadee,
8; Golden-crowned Kinglet, 2; Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 8. Total, 17
species, 147 individuals.--BELLE WILLIAMS.
_Tampa, Fla._--Dec. 26; 9 A. M. to 12 M. and 2 to 5 P. M. Clear; wind
northwest, steady; tide out all day; temperature 40 degrees. Laughing
Gull, 1; Bonaparte's Gull, 1; Brown Pelican, 9; Lesser Scaup, 75; Ward's
Heron, 2; Little Blue Heron, 5; Killdeer, 15; Mourning Dove, 3; Turkey
Vulture, 10; Black Vulture, 4; Marsh Hawk, 1; Bald Eagle, 1; Kingfisher,
1; Red-headed Woodpecker, 1; Florida Blue Jay, 5; Towhee, 1; Tree
Sparrow, 14; Loggerhead Shrike, 6; Myrtle Warbler, 20; Yellow-throated
Warbler, 1; Palm Warbler, 60; Prairie Warbler, 1; Mockingbird, 12; House
Wren, 2; Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 2; Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, 3. Total, 26
species, about 360 individuals.--MRS. HERBERT R. MILLS.
_Rantoul, Ill._--Dec. 25; 11 A. M. to 2 P. M. Cloudy; wind north-west,
strong; temperature 22 degrees. Prairie Hen, 40; Mourning Dove, 2;
Cooper's Hawk, 2; Red-tailed Hawk, 1; Red-shouldered Hawk, 1; American
Rough-legged Hawk, 5; American Sparrow Hawk, 1; Short-eared Owl, 3;
Screech Owl, 1; Northern Downy Woodpecker, 5; Yellow-bellied Sapsucker,
2; Northern Flicker, 2; Horned Lark, 60; Prairie Horned Lark, 30; Blue
Jay, 15; Bronzed Crackle, 2; Lapland Longspur, 4; Tree Sparrow, 200;
Junco, 100; Song Sparrow, 8; Swamp Sparrow, 2; Cardinal, 16; Brown
Creeper, 1; White-breasted Nuthatch, 10; Red-breasted Nuthatch, 4; Tufted
Titmouse, 30; Chickadee, 24; {99} Golden-crowned Kinglet, 4. Total, 28
species, 575 individuals.--GEORGE E. EKBLAW and EDDIE L. EKBLAW.
_Youngstown, Ohio._--Dec. 25; 8 A. M. to 4 P. M. Rain nearly all day;
wind southerly, brisk at times; temperature 46 degrees to 33 degrees;
walked about 10 miles. Ruffed Grouse, 2; Barred Owl, 1; Great Horned
Owl, 2; Hairy Woodpecker, 6; Downy Woodpecker, 30; Red-bellied
Woodpecker, 1; Blue Jay, 21; Goldfinch, 4; Tree Sparrow, 54;
Slate-coloured Junco, 4; Song Sparrow, 20; Cardinal, 25; Winter Wren, 1;
Brown Creeper, 4; White-breasted Nuthatch, 50; Red-breasted Nuthatch, 2;
Tufted Titmouse, 25; Chickadee, 133; Golden-crowned Kinglet, 29; Wood
Thrush, 1. Total, 20 species, 424 individuals. The Wood Thrush was
possibly crippled, but could fly quite well.--GEORGE L. FORDYCE, VOLNEY
ROGERS, C. A. LEEDY, and MRS. WILLIS H. WARNER.
_Westfield, Wis._--Dec. 22; 8.30 to 10.30 A. M. Cloudy; ground covered
by light snow; wind south, light; temperature 30 degrees. Ruffed Grouse,
1; Downy Woodpecker, 2; Blue Jay, 3; Goldfinch, 40; Tree Sparrow, 20;
White-breasted Nuthatch, 3; Chickadee, 12. Total, 7 species, 81
individuals.--PATIENCE NESBITT.
_Omaha, Neb._--Dec. 25; 10 A. M. to 3 P. M. Clear till noon; 1 inch of
snow with bare spots; wind light, south; temperature 20 to 32 degrees.
Open woods and parks just west of town, walked north 5 miles. Hairy
Woodpecker, 1; Downy Woodpecker, 7; Blue Jay, 8; Goldfinch, 2; Pine
Siskin, 1; Tree Sparrow, 75; Slate-coloured Junco, 20; Cardinal, 2;
White-breasted Nuthatch, 3; Chickadee, 26. Total, 10 species, 145
individuals.--SOLON R. TOWNE.
_Denver, Colo._--Dec. 25; 2.20 to 4 P. M. Partly cloudy; ground with
some snow; wind west, strong; temperature 45 degrees to 55 degrees.
Ring-necked Pheasant, 11; Marsh Hawk, 1; Orange-shafted Flicker, 9;
Magpie, 75; Red-winged Blackbird, 750; Meadowlark, 4; House Finch, 35;
Tree Sparrow, 60; Shufeldt's Junco, 3; Pink-sided Junco, 1; Gray-headed
Junco, 18. Total, 11 species, 967 individuals.--W. H. BERGTOLD.
_Escondido, Calif._--Dec. 25; 9 A. M. to 2 P. M. Partly cloudy; {100}
temperature 65 degrees. Killdeer, 30; Valley Quail, 100; Mourning Dove,
20; Western Red-tailed Hawk, 1; Desert Sparrow Hawk, 2; Barn Owl, 2;
Burrowing Owl, 3; California Screech Owl, 1; Red-shafted Flicker, 3;
Black-chinned Hummingbird, 3; Arkansas Kingbird, 9; Say's Phoebe, 4;
Black Phoebe, 2; California Jay, 4; Western Meadowlark, 75; Brewer's
Blackbird, 150; House Finch, 200; Willow Goldfinch, 50; Anthony's Towhee,
35; Phainopepla, 1; California Shrike, 8; Audubon's Warbler, 30; Western
Mockingbird, 10; Pasadena Thrasher, 3; California Bush Tit, 20; Pallid
Wren Tit, 6; Western Robin, 25; Western Bluebird, 10. Total, 38 species,
805 individuals.--FRED GALLUP.
{101}
CHAPTER VI
THE ECONOMIC VALUE OF BIRDS
Wild birds are now generally protected by law. Wander where you will
through every province of Canada, and almost every nook and corner of
the United States, you will find that the lawmaker has been there
before you, and has thrown over the birds the sheltering arm of
prohibitory statutes. Legislators are not usually supposed to spend
much energy on drafting and enacting measures unless it is thought that
these will result in practical benefit to at least some portion of
their constituents. Legislative bodies are not much given to
appropriating hundreds of thousands of dollars annually for the
enforcement of a law which is purely sentimental in its nature. It is
clear, therefore, that our law makers regard the wild bird life as
{102} a great value to the country from the standpoint of dollars and
cents.
_Destructiveness of Insects._--If we go back a few years and examine
certain widely read publications issued by the United States Department
of Agriculture, we can understand more fully why our legislative bodies
have regarded so seriously the subject of bird protection. In one of
the Year Books of the Department we read that the annual loss to the
cotton crop of the United States by insects amounts to sixty million
dollars. We learn, too, that grasshoppers and other insects annually
destroy fifty-three million dollars' worth of hay and that two million
dollars' worth of cereals are each year eaten by our insect population.
In fact, we are told that one-tenth of all the cereals, hay, cotton,
tobacco, forests, and general farm products is the yearly tax which
insects levy and collect. In some parts of the country
market-gardening and fruit-growing are the chief industries of the
people. Now, when a vegetable raiser or fruit grower starts to count
up the cost of {103} his crops, one of the items which he must take
into consideration is the 25 per cent. of his products which goes to
feed the insects of the surrounding country.
Not all insects are detrimental to man's interests, but as we have just
seen the Government officially states that many of them are
tremendously destructive. Any one who has attempted to raise apples,
for example, has made the unpleasant acquaintance of the codling moth
and the curculio. Every season the apple raisers of the United States
expend eight and one-quarter million dollars in spraying, to discourage
the activities of these pests. In considering the troubles of the
apple growers we may go even farther and count the twelve million
dollars' worth of fruit spoiled by the insects despite all the spraying
which has taken place. Chinch bugs destroy wheat to the value of
twenty million dollars a year, and the cotton-boll weevil costs the
Southern planters an equal amount.
_Plagues of Insects._--Every now and then we read {104} of great
plagues of insects which literally lay waste a whole section of
country. History tells of these calamities which have troubled the
civilized world from the days of Pharaoh to the present time. During
the summer of 1912 there was a great outbreak of army worms in South
Carolina. In innumerable millions they marched across the country,
destroying vegetation like a consuming fire. In the year 1900 Hessian
flies appeared in great numbers in Ohio and Indiana, and before they
subsided they had destroyed absolutely two and one-half million acres
of the finest wheat to be found in the Middle West, and wheat land
dropped 40 per cent. in value.
Closing this Year Book, with its long tables of discouraging
statements, we may find more cheerful reading if we turn to another
Agricultural Department publication entitled, "Some Common Birds and
Their Relation to Agriculture; Farmers Bulletin number Fifty-four." We
need peruse only a few pages to become impressed with the fact that our
Government Biological Survey has made an {105} exhaustive and
exceedingly thorough investigation of the feeding habits of the wild
birds that frequent the fields and forests. The reports of the
economic ornithologists herein given are almost as surprising as the
sad records given by the entomologists in the Year Book. We learn that
birds, as a class, constitute a great natural check on the undue
increase of harmful insects, and furthermore that the capacity for food
of the average bird is decidedly greater in proportion than that of any
other vertebrate.
_Some Useful Birds._--Most people who have made the acquaintance of our
common birds know the friendly little Chickadee, which winter and
summer is a constant resident in groves of deciduous trees. It feeds,
among other things, on borers living in the bark of trees, on plant
lice which suck the sap, on caterpillars which consume the leaves, and
on codling worms which destroy fruit. One naturalist found that four
Chickadees had eaten one hundred and five female cankerworm moths.
With scalpel, tweezers, and microscope these moths were examined, {106}
and each was found to contain on an average one hundred and eighty-five
eggs. This gives a total of nearly twenty thousand cankerworm moth
eggs destroyed by four birds in a few minutes. The Chickadee is very
fond of the eggs of this moth and hunts them assiduously during the
four weeks of the summer when the moths are laying them.
The Nighthawk, which feeds mainly in the evening, and which is equally
at home in the pine barrens of Florida, the prairies of Dakota, or the
upper air of New York City, is a slaughterer of insects of many kinds.
A Government agent collected one, in the stomach of which were the
remains of thirty-four May beetles, the larvae of which are the white
grubs well known to farmers on account of their destruction of potatoes
and other vegetables. Several stomachs have been found to contain
fifty or more different kinds of insects, and the number of individuals
in some cases run into the thousands. Nighthawks also eat
grasshoppers, potato-beetles, cucumber-beetles, boll-weevils,
leaf-hoppers, and numerous gnats and {107} mosquitoes. Surely this
splendid representative of the Goatsucker family deserves the gratitude
of all American citizens.
Among the branches of certain of our fruit trees we sometimes see large
webs which have been made by the tent caterpillars. An invading host
seems to have pitched its tents among the boughs on all sides. If
undisturbed these caterpillars strip the foliage from the trees.
Fortunately there is a bird which is very fond of these hairy
intruders. This is the Cuckoo, and he eats so many that his stomach
actually becomes lined with a thick coating of hairs from their woolly
bodies. The Baltimore Oriole also is fond of rifling these webs.
Another well-known bird that helps to make this part of the world
habitable is the Flicker. It is popular in every neighbourhood where
it is found and is known by a wide variety of local names, over one
hundred and twenty-five of which have been recorded. Golden-winged
Woodpecker some people call it. Other names are High-holder, Wake-up,
{108} Walk-up, Yellowhammer, and Pigeon Woodpecker. The people of Cape
Hatteras know it as Wilkrissen, and in some parts of Florida it is the
Yucker-bird. Naturalists call it _Colaptes auratus_, but name it as
you may, this bird of many aliases is well worthy of the esteem in
which it is held. It gathers its food almost entirely from the ground,
being different in this respect from other Woodpeckers. One may flush
it in the grove, the forest, the peanut field, or the untilled prairie,
and everywhere it is found engaged in the most highly satisfactory
occupation of destroying insect life. More than half of its food
consists of ants. In this country, taken as a whole, Flickers are very
numerous, and the millions of individual birds which have yet escaped
the guns of degenerate pot hunters constitute a mighty army of
destruction to the _Formicidae_.
Let us not forget that any creature which eats ants is a decided boon
to humanity. Ants, besides being wood borers, invaders of pantries,
killers of young birds, nuisances to campers and barefoot {109} boys,
care for and perpetuate plant lice which infest vegetation in all parts
of the country to our very serious loss. Professor Forbes, in his
study of the corn plant louse, found that in spring ants mine along the
principal roots of the corn. Then they collect the plant lice, or
aphids, and convey them into these burrows and there watch and protect
them. Without the assistance of ants, it appears that the plant lice
would be unable to reach the roots of the corn. In return for these
attentions the ants feast upon the honey-like substances secreted by
these aphids. The ants, which have the reputation of being no
sluggards, take good care of their diminutive milch cattle, and will
te |
