Plate XXIV.—PHILOHELA MINOR, (Gmel.) Gray.—American Woodcock.
The Woodcock is somewhat restricted in its distribution. In this respect it differs from its numerous congeneric brethren, which have a wide dispersion. It is chiefly a denizen of the eastern parts of the United States, and of the British territory immediately adjacent thereto. Fort Rice, in North-western Dakota, according to Coues, and Kansas and Nebraska in the west, seem to be the limits of its range in those directions. Although notable for its scarcity in regions beyond the Mississippi, Iowa excepted, yet it abundantly compensates therefore as we advance eastward. In the Middle and Eastern States they are probably found in greater numbers than elsewhere. While the greater bulk pass north to breed, some abide in the South, and raise their happy little families, in spite of the ardor of the climate.
Few species, if any, arrive earlier. It generally appears from the fifth to the tenth of March in New England and the Middle Atlantic States, although instances are known where birds have been observed as early as the twenty-fourth of February. These cases are, however, rare, and only happen, if at all, when the weather has been remarkably propitious for a lengthy spell. As a few of them have been known to remain all winter in Pennsylvania, and elsewhere, when the season has been fine, may not their emergence from sheltered localities, at such times, be construed by persons who are not cognizant of their presence, or of their occasional disposition to permanence of residence, as but a case of recent arrival? In view of this latter habit, it would be difficult to prove that the visitor had just come from the South, unless it had been discerned in transitu.
Having decided upon their migratory tour, they start in small companies, from four to six in number. These settle down in small tracts of country of a few rods in area on reaching their destination. Low, swampy thickets generally invite their presence. Here they conceal themselves during the day. But when night has dethroned her rival, and temporarily assumed the reins of power, they come out of their grassy retreats, and wander about in search of food. The setting of the sun behind the western hill-tops is the signal for their nocturnal rambles to begin. And well do they keep them up. For it is not until the first streak of morning is seen to glow in the East that they abandon their foragings and retire to accustomed haunts. Few there are who have visited these birds at such times. Let us take our readers to yon neighboring swamp, or by the side of some lowly woodland, which these strange beings delight to frequent. The utmost silence must be maintained, or our friends will be frightened away. While we may not be able to see the objects that have called us hither, we know they are not far away by the rustle which they produce among the dry leaves, and by the peculiar notes which they emit, for there are two or three individuals together, as they move restlessly about in the undergrowth, in their search for worms. Chip-per, chip-per, chip may be heard from the right, and almost in the next instant it is varied to bleat or bleat ta bleat ta, produced in the contrary direction, or off in the distance, showing that the authors thereof have changed their positions. While these birds have an habitual fondness for humid thickets, they not unfrequently betake themselves to corn-fields and other cultivated tracts in close proximity thereto, and even to elevated woods.
For more than a fortnight after their arrival the sexes, though feeding in company, do not apparently manifest a disposition to assume conjugal relationship. The desire for food seems to be uppermost in their minds. The inclemency of the weather, and the coldness of the ground in consequence, may have much to do with holding the amatory forces in check. But when the opportune moment arrives, which it does in the course of events, the sexes stop from their feeding, in a measure, and give the nobler instincts of their being a chance for development. The males are the first to feel the changes which are being wrought in their natures. For more than a week from this time, in the early morning and evening hours, they may be seen exercising themselves by means of "curious spiral gyrations" in mid-air, and uttering, as they descend earthwards, a note which Audubon lias likened to the word kwank. This note may be a call for the female in the spring, but as it is often uttered in the fall after the breed-ing-season is past, it may also be a summons for the gathering together of the members of the same household. The production of these sounds seems to be a labor of much effort. The movements of the bird then, must be seen to be appreciated. The head and bill are bent forward until the latter comes into contact with the ground, and, just as the sound is being emitted, the body is urged violently forward. These spasmodic exertions being over, the actor in this drama, twitches its abbreviated, halfspread tail, assumes an erect attitude of listening, and, if no response is elicited, repeats its characteristic cry, with all the accompanying movements. If the call awakes an answering note, the happy lover flies to the presence of the one he seeks, and lavishes upon her the most endearing caresses. Sometimes, as Audubon affirms, the male awaits the arrival of the loved one, and does not fly to meet her. According to the same authority, the summons seems sometimes to be replied to by one of the same sex, which is always the prelude to a fierce encounter between the two, for, on these occasions, when the feelings are in a high state of tension, the utmost enmity exists between the males. These contentions are usually shortlived, and cease with the assumption of matrimonial relations.
The happiness of the male is now complete. With his homely, but, doubtless, to him, prepossessing bride, by his side, he soon journeys off in search of a home. This is a matter of some consequence, and tasks the patience to the utmost. But their labors in this direction are eventually crowned with success. They frequent the most secluded resorts, and hide their nest away in some low, dense and swampy woods or brake, difficult of access, and one that none but the cruel collector would be likely to visit. The nest is generally placed on the ground, at the foot of a bush or tussock, in the midst of small birches or alders, or on a decayed stump or prostrate log. In some localities it is snugly nestled in the midst of a meadow. It is not an elaborate affair by any means, but merely consists of a few dried leaves or grasses which are scratched together by the female—the work of a few hours at the most.
The domicile being ready for occupancy, the female soon commences to deposit her beautiful treasures. One by one they are laid on consecutive days, until her complement of three or four is reached. In the Southern States, oviposition commences in March or February, while in the northern limits of the range of this species, from the tenth to the fifteenth of April; seldom later. Incubation is mutual, and so attentive are the birds to the task, that it is an unusual occurrence to find them both absent therefrom at the same time. When the female is sitting, her partner improves the time by attending to the demands which hunger makes upon him. The same is true of the female when she has resigned her charge to the care of her noble and conscientious lord. So faithfully do they keep to the nest, that nothing but the most menacing danger will compel them to quit it. The approach of a team, or of a pedestrian, within a foot of it, has not been known to startle them. But when the danger is quite imminent, the sitting-bird slips out of it, and makes its way into the tall grasses, at some distance therefrom, and becomes a silent and sorrowful witness of the disaster to be accomplished. Should no destruction be perpetrated, and the intruder has gone his way, it cautiously comes out of its hiding-place, and resumes labors. But it has learned a lesson by this experience. For on a second visit to the same spot, no bird is to be found. Apprised of approaching danger, it has slipped out of the nest in time to escape detection. Thus patiently, persistently, and seemingly unweariedly, these faithful beings, by turns, apply themselves to the task, until success has crowned their willing labors. The time spent in hatching, under the most favorable circumstances, varies from seventeen to eighteen days.
The young are very timid creatures, and keep close to their parents, who manifest considerable solicitude for their well-being. They watch over their helpless infancy, so to speak, with a care which a human mother only knows, and when their lives are imperiled, resort to many a ruse to deceive their enemies, and bring them into places of safety. By a peculiar alarm, when severely pressed, the mother warns them of the condition of things, and while they are scattering in different directions, she seeks to attract attention to herself in many a well-feigned artifice. After the danger is past, by a familiar call she summons them together, and doubtless relates to them the story of her adventures, and the dangers to which they were exposed. Their food consists of worms, animalcula, ants and other soft-bodied insects, which the parents assist them in procuring from the soft earth, and beneath the grass and dead leaves that abound in the places which they frequent. Later on, they are able to obtain their subsistence with the address of older birds, by thrusting their bills into the soil, and in such other places as would be likely to contain the objects desired. Their tongues being covered with a viscid saliva, the food adheres thereto, and is drawn into the mouth without danger of being-lost. Gunners, as well as those who have made these birds a study, have often met with holes which have been made in the soft mud by their bills. The presence of these "borings," as they are called, is always considered as an indication that game is not very far distant, which a thorough exploration of the surrounding country soon reveals to be the fact. The young having thoroughly matured, continue in the same haunts with their parents, and, unless brought to an untimely death by the merciless gun of the hunter, repair to the warm, sunny, smiling South with the return of frost.
The eggs of this species are less pyriform than waders' mostly are, being, in some instances, almost ovoidal. Their ground-color varies from a light clay to one of buffy-brown, and the markings occur in the form of fine spots and blotches of chocolate-brown, interspersed with others of obscure lilac, scattered more or less thickly over the surface of the egg.
According to Dr. Coues, their size and intensity of color bear, in general, a direct correspondence with the depth of the background. In Massachusetts these eggs exhibit remarkable variation, passing from 1.45 to 1.80 inches in length, and from 1.15 to 1.25 in width. Out of a collection of a dozen specimens, Dr. Coues found the shortest and broadest egg to measure 1.40 by 1.20, and the longest, narrowest one, 1.55 by 1.15 inches. A set of three before us, from Pennsylvania, has an average measurement of 1.54 by 1.21 inches. In the Middle States, and the same is doubtless true of other sections of our great country, there is never more than a single brood raised, although the early breeding of the species would certainly give ample time for a second hatching before the close of the season. The drawing shows not merely the eggs in situ, although considerably reduced, but at the same time gives a beautiful and accurate figure of a typical specimen, alone and isolated. The female is represented as standing in the vicinity of the nest, while her partner occupies a sitting posture in the foreground of the picture. The total length of this species, from tip of bill to extremity of tail, is eleven inches. The wing has a stretch of two and a quarter inches. So well have the birds been portrayed by the artist, that we shall not attempt a description.
[Original Size]
Plate XXV.—COLYMBUS SEPTENTRION A LIS, Linnæus.—Red-throated Diver.
Chiefly a boreal species, especially during the breeding-season, the Red-throated Diver is only known to visit us during the winter. On our eastern sea-board it seldom attains a lower latitude than Maryland, while in the West it has been met with along the coast as far south as San Diego, California. Farther north, however, on the shore-line, around the inlets of Washington Territory adjacent to the British possessions, it is more abundant. Although of rare occurrence along the Atlantic coast of the United States (and it is mostly the young and immature birds that are to be seen) yet in Arctic regions the species meets with the essential conditions of soil and climate which render life a pleasure, and not a burden. Consequently, the birds abound in great numbers, and carry on their worldly affairs unexposed to the dangers which would most likely affect them in less severe localities that are the common resorts of man.
Like most of its kin, this Diver is seen to the best advantage in winter. Here several may be seen together, when the weather is favorable, moving lightly over the surface of the sea by means of their broad seallike paddles, with gently-curving neck and flashing eyes, and on the qui vive for whatever of life may stir in the depths below. But let some luckless sprat cross the keen-sighted vision of one of these birds, and its whole demeanor becomes changed. It is now no longer the peaceful bird pursuing its way leisurely over the waters, but the terror of the finny tribes. Like an arrow, it darts downward, and with marvellous swiftness, urged by its powerful webbed feet and wings, it shoots through the limpid fluid, and by means of one fell stroke of its strong-pointed bill, transfixes its victim and rises to the surface again. With a gentle shiver of the body, the thousand drops of water that adhere to its sleek plumage, like spangled dew-drops upon glittering grass-spears, fly in every direction, leaving the feathers as dry as if the bird had never taken this sub-aqueous journey. Divested of its borrowed jewels, it now prepares to enjoy its well-won and precious morsel. For this purpose, with a peculiar jerking movement, the prey is swallowed, head foremost, and while the process of digestion is going forward, the perpetrator of this late sanguinary deed settles down into quiet life, or pursues, with majestic and dignified mien, its customary movement athwart the glassy bosom of the deep.
Although affecting great fondness for the sea, yet, when awakened to a true sense of its being by the unseen forces of Nature, and the amatory feelings have become aroused, it bids a temporary adieu thereto, and seeks some small, sequestered island in the midst of a lake or pond of fresh water, in close proximity to the ocean, where it places its nest. The sexes enter into this business with due consideration and dispatch, and apparently waste but few precious moments in the indulgence of idle fancies, or in the gratification of cherished whims. There is little of the heartlessness and fickleness shown by the wooed when her wooer makes his suit, as characterize many of our land denizens. The male, tired of the utter aimlessness of the social life which he has been leading, retires from the scenes once so dear, seeks his mate, doubtless the partner of former joys and sorrows, and leads her to the hymeneal altar a willing bride. A few mutual recognitions of love, and the happy pair are sealed for another season.
Their chief concern now seems to be the establishment of a home. This is a work of short duration. A few blades of rank grass, hastily gathered in the neighborhood, are brought together, and, by the joint labors of both birds, are circularly arranged, and made to subserve the necessary purposes. The nest is very shallow, quite bulky, and well hidden by the surrounding verdure. There is always noticeable a lack of down or of feathers, which so many sea-birds are accustomed to utilize for warmth and concealment. Well-beaten paths may be seen diverging from the nest, which the birds follow in going to and returning from the same. When either desires to go' thither, it is never known to resort to flight, as this would apparently betray its whereabouts. But the object desired is gained by a safer method. The bird swims quietly around the nest, carefully reconnoitres the spot, and if the land is free from peril, crawls silently out of the water and waddles her way up to it.
By reason of the severity of northern winters, as is usually the case with most birds that breed in Labrador and kindred regions the subject of our sketch is necessarily compelled to delay nesting until the close of May, or the beginning of June. By this time the sun has nearly attained the limit of his course in this direction, and his influence is begun to be felt with considerable force. The female is not long in occupying the rude domicile with her small complement of two or three eggs.
In the duty of incubation, which closely follows that of laying, the male does not shirk the responsibility, and seek the companionship of others of the same sex to while away the hours in piscatorial diversions, but, gallant knight that he is, he never forsakes his mate, unless called away by hunger. He is ever ready to respond to her call, and assumes the charge of the house and its precious, undeveloped inmates, with cheerfulness. The period of incubation has never been determined.
The young from the first are active creatures, and take to the water almost as soon as they are hatched. On their first introduction to this fluid they prove themselves to be equally expert both in swimming and in diving. Few parents are more solicitous for the safety of their progeny. When assailed by dangers, they watch over them with assiduous care, and lead them in many a devious route through the watery waste, and inculcate into their minds many a bit of information and advice which could not be better taught otherwise. The young profit by these teachings by example, and soon become as shy and vigilant as their illustrious parents. In their fresh-water home, they feed upon snails, leeches, shrimps, small fish and aquatic insects. But after they have betaken themselves to the sea, they discard, in a measure, such small fry, and seek larger game, as they sport freely and lustily about in the exuberance of happy spirits. They are not long in acquiring their full stature, and in rendering themselves acquainted with the vocabulary of their parents. The vocal expressions of the latter are harsh and loud, and may be aptly represented by the syllables cac, cac, carah, carah, delivered in rapid succession. The birds are slow, however, in obtaining their full plumage. This does not occur until the fourth year of their existence.
The eggs of this species differ from those of the Loon, a near cousin, chiefly in size; being somewhat smaller. They pass from an oval form to one that is ovate, and, in some instances, are rather elongated. Their general color is an olivaceous-brown, although specimens sometimes show a decided tendency to olivaceous-drab. We have seen others whose primary color was of a reddish-brown order. Scattered over the ground-color, but mainly about the larger extremity, spots of black or dark-brownish, varying in size from a pin-point to an eighth of an inch, may be found more or less abundantly. A clutch of two before us from Greenland are olivaceous-brown tending slightly to drab, and are marked with blackish spots of varying sizes. They measure respectively 3.13 and 3.07 inches in length, and 1.88 and 1.75 inches in diameter, giving a mean average measurement of 3.10 by 1.82 inches. In the cut they are figured as large as they appear in nature, and in the foreground. The birds are faithfully delineated as to colors and markings, but show considerable diminution in size. In the natural state, the male has a length of twenty-seven, and a wing-expanse of eleven and a half inches; the bill and tail each being two and a quarter inches. The female is a trifle smaller than her partner, weighing, on an average, about a pound less. Her plumage is the exact counterpart of his, or differs in no material particulars therefrom.
[Original Size]
Plate XXVI.—POLIOPTILA CÆRULEA, (Linn.) Sclater.—Blue-gray Gnatcatcher.
When the first breath of spring, on zephyr wings, blows over the South, laden with dewy moisture and balm from regions beyond the Gulf, this tiny speck of bird-life feels the glowing influence, and hails it with delight. Weary and restless, it seeks to break away from its winter-home, or change the monotony of its existence. While some are inclined to newness of climate, and leisurely wend their way northward, others are happy and contented where they are. Those, imbued with a spirit of migration, quit their less ambitious neighbors in March or April, to spend their summers abroad. All reach their destination by three great routes. Those on the east, that winter in the isles to the southward, follow the trend of the great Atlantic slope as far north as the valley of the Connecticut and kindred latitudes. Others, doubtless, from our southernmost States and the Mexican possessions, pursue a central direction, one part passing through the eastern half of the Mississippi Valley to the Lake country, and the other ceasing from their toilsome journey when the northern frontiers of Nebraska and Iowa are attained. While the western wave, so to speak, collect from their winter-retreats in the valleys of the Colorado and Rio Grande Rivers and follow these streams to their headwaters, or turn aside from their course and make their way through the fertile slopes of the Pacific to the latitude of 42 degrees.
Though an early migrant, yet, by reason of the tardiness of its movements, this species does not arrive in the Middle States until the last of April, or the beginning of May. In Maryland and Virginia, according to Coues, its advent occurs during the early part of April. The Carolinas, Northern Alabama and Tennessee witness its appearance about the fifteenth of March when the season is not retarded by a long, cold winter, and the Northern Central States, towards the close of the ensuing month, which, by some inexplicable cause, seems also to be the date of its coming in the great Colorado Basin.
Appearing at a time when the trees are beginning to clothe themselves in shimmering robes of green, and often before the oaks and hickories have burst their tumid buds into the rich drapery of foliage which is to cover their unsightly nakedness, our little friend is none the less welcome. From the tall tree-tops we are first made aware of his presence by the shrill, wiry notes with which he salutes the morn, and which he is accustomed to utter during the livelong day as he moves in and out among the branches in tireless pursuit of prey. Not a tree-crevice escapes his keen scrutiny. While thus eagerly prying into every cranny or crack that meets his gaze in quest of the lurking culprit, should the buzz of a fly or the hum of a beetle be borne to his hearing, in an instant he is off with a dash that is wonderful to behold, and the unhappy insect is made to repent the folly and temerity of its action. At such times, his behavior seems to be all hurry and bustle, as though the work of a life must be crowded into a few short days.
We have but pictured to the minds of our readers the selfish side of his character, as manifested in the uncontrollable rapacity which sways him. But when the finer and more ennobling impulses of his nature, stimulated by returning warmth, have once more gained the mastery, a milder grace attends his every movement, and sweeter accents attune his voice. We no longer hear those peculiar sounds, which to the human ear resemble tsee-tsee-tsee, repeated in rapid succession, and which, a few short weeks before, were everywhere to be heard—a fit accompaniment to his reckless life—but instead, are regaled with the sweetest, tenderest music. This is so low, that to appreciate its effect, the auditor must be but a few yards distant from the tree which our modest vocalist has selected to be the scene of his endeavors. So well sustained is the effort, and, above all, so faultlessly rendered, that the most austere critic could hardly fail to assign the performer a high place among the feathered choir.
Like many of his kith, he does not seek the bare branch of some tall tree, where he can be seen, and thrill the air of vale and wood around with ear-splitting utterances. He despises such notoriety. Hid away in the leafy canopy that wreathes the brow of some gnarled oak, he loves to take his stand, and there pour out his soul in all the ecstasy of subdued song. Unpretentious as his music may be, and undervalued for its lack of force by the vast choir of singers around, yet it has a depth of power and feeling, which, as it is borne aloft upon the bosom of the gentle air, strikes the ears of some timid, modest creature, and startles the slumbering chords of her being into harmony. Life to her now acquires new vitality and enjoyment. With heart beating high with rapturous emotions, and urged by an irresistible desire, she betakes herself on swiftest pinions to the spot whence emanate the sounds. As she nears it, the music comes to her with fuller distinctness, and sends the heart-throbs following one another in happy, swift succession. The singer does not abate his efforts, but keeps them up with scarce an intermission, until they elicit a response, or the gentle, loving one is wafted to his immediate presence. On the reception of a reply, his movements are restless and animated. But let the object of his thoughts but flit before his excited vision, and in a moment he is by her side. In a variety of actions which, from a human standpoint, seem meaningless and frivolous, he conveys to her his love, and the boundless appreciation of her worth. This done, he next attempts a song, which seems to soothe her hitherto agitated feelings, and awakens confidence and resignation. He is not slow in perceiving the advantage thus acquired, and, consequently, follows it up with other advances, which completely place her at the disposal of his mercy and power. Conquered at last, she yields herself a willing subject to the potency of love, and becomes his wedded wife.
The selection of a home-spot now claims the attention. High, open woods are preferred for this purpose, although trees along the borders of streams, and in low, damp situations, are sometimes chosen. There seems to be no particular fancy for one tree more than another, provided it be lichen-clad. Those whose branches are thus ornamented, the oak especially, will be found to be more frequently favored. Instances are known, however, of nests being placed upon the maple, a tree remarkable for its dearth of such vegetation. Having chosen the site, the erection of a dwelling is next in order. Accordingly, the pair set about this business.
The time chosen for the work is generally the month of May, when insect-life runs riot, and mother earth is ablaze with a thousand floral beauties, the free-will offering of the queen that now presides. From its dawn to its close, these curious structures may be seen in various stages of completion, with eggs and without, tenantless and occupied. Specimens from Texas, with egg-complements, have been found on or near the fifteenth, which had doubtless been commenced two weeks before. Others from New Jersey and Pennsylvania contained incubated eggs as late as the twenty-eighth, while one from Eastern Tennessee with two fresh eggs was found on the sixth of the month following. But this may have been a case where the early efforts of the birds to nest had been prevented by circumstances beyond their control. Reports from the extreme northern and western limits of the range of these birds point to the same conclusion.
The height which these nests occupy above the ground varies with the locality. In some places they seldom attain a greater elevation than ten feet, but, in the majority of cases, this limit is exceeded, and the heights of fifty, and even sixty feet, are reached. There is less variation in form noticeable, their shape being generally that of a truncated cone. One nest before us from the South differs somewhat from this figure, and may be pronounced as inversely conical. The position, too, is quite uniform. Most of them are placed among slender branches, to which they are woven by the ingenuity of the architects, and, although non-pensile, are the sport of every breeze. But so securely are they fastened, that to dislodge them from their moorings, is a matter of no little difficulty.
Though jostled most readily by the winds, and in danger of destruction, yet, by a wise provision of instinct, their contents are insured against accident. This is prevented not so much by the depth of the cavity, as by the purse-like contraction of the rim.
Few structures of bird-architecture are more handsome than the home of this little Gnatcatcher, and none so worthily excite our wonder and admiration. Like the nests of the Humming-bird and Wood Pewee, it is a perfect model of beauty and design. So cunningly contrived a structure, and one so comfortably, durably and tastefully arranged, would doubtless be attributed by us to the work of superior beings, were we not acquainted with the artificers. In the foregoing particulars, it stands almost unrivalled. Like the colors which glow upon the bosom of the mother of pearl, it must be seen to be fully appreciated. No description, however faithfully portrayed, can give an adequate conception of its beauty. But we shall make the attempt. Even the picture gives but a meagre idea of the elegance of this cosy chamber. Its walls are of felt, closely and compactly woven, and made of slender stems of grass, the down of thistles, spider's webs, and vegetable-like fibres. As if dissatisfied with such a fine piece of mechanism, our little architects must needs go further. With a love for the beautiful and picturesque, they almost startle the beholder by investing the exterior with a fine stucco-work of bluish-gray lichens which serves the two-fold purpose of ornamentation and protection. So like a natural excrescence does the nest now appear, that only the experienced eye can detect the 'difference. Compared with the size of its tiny builder, who measures but four and three-tenths inches from tip of bill to caudal extremity, the nest seems bulky. These structures are, however, by no means uniform in size. A specimen from New Jersey has a width of two and seven-eighths inches, and a height of three. Another from Texas measures two and five-eighths inches in length, and but two and a half in external diameter. The smallest we have seen are from Tennessee and California. The former has a width of two and a quarter inches, and a height of two and five-eighths, while the latter differs therefrom only in length, being half an inch less. The cavities offer less striking differences, varying slightly from one and a half inches in either direction. In composition the Western nest presents some points of difference. The exterior is composed of yellowish-green and greenish-gray lichens, specifically distinct from Eastern specimens, a slight intersprinkling of brown catkins, feathers, cobwebs, and small bits of vegetable stems. The inside does not present much variation, but is lined with feathers, horse-hairs and vegetable wool, as many of our own are. When feathers are utilized for a lining, the quills are generally placed in the walls of the nest, only the soft plume-like parts being allowed to come into contact with the eggs. The nest from California was found by Prof. Ever-mann, in the vicinity of Santa Paula, during the summer of 1881. It is the prettiest, as well as the most elaborately perfected nest which we have yet seen. The one from which the drawing was made, while less artistic, deserves mention, from the peculiar position which it occupies, being wedged in between two diverging branches from a sweet-gum, and fastened thereto by cobwebs passing from its outside to the wing-like expansions of the wood.
Such finished and complicated structures are assuredly not the work of a few hours, but the labor of unwearied perseverance and industry upon the part of the builders for a week. No division of the work is allowed, but each bird toils as suits its inclination. Whether the rearing of the fabric proper with its finely-felted walls, or the laying on of the tiles afterwards, requires the longer time to accomplish, it is difficult to say. Our experience teaches that the latter is the more trying and difficult task, and consumes one-third more time. It must not be presumed that the builders work steadily through the entire day. This is not the case. Rest, recreation, and the procurement of food, are matters that require attention, and prolong the labor.
Having finished their home, the female is not slow in providing it with tenants. From four to six eggs are deposited in as many days, and incubation entered into. This lasts fourteen days, and is as much the work of one sex as the other. While thus occupied, the birds are jealous of their property, and resent all intrusions with a valor worthy of admiration. This is especially the case when their home is visited by the Cowbird. So determined and fierce are the attacks which they wage against these birds, that in the melee which ensues, their fragile home is often entirely destroyed. In Cooke County, Texas, where this Gnatcatcher is abundant, fully half the nests that have been found by Mr. Ragsdale, the narrator of this fact, are despoiled before completion, and, in many instances, completely obliterated. But let the intruder be some conscienceless collector, knowing that resistance is useless the birds do not make a stand, but seek some safe spot where they can observe the proceedings. But as soon as the premises have been deserted they return, and if the home remains untouched, resume possession as though nothing had happened. In the event of desecration, they forsake the spot with sorrow and reluctance, and try their fortunes elsewhere. But a single brood is raised, although the tardiness of some pairs to nidificate has led to the belief that in some seasons the species may be double-brooded.
The young birds, for a week or ten days subsequent to hatching, are quite weak and tender, and but for the attention and care bestowed by parental love, would quickly perish. Endowed by Nature with vigorous appetites, and being blessed with kind and thoughtful parents, they are soon able to help themselves. Their food at first consists of larvæ of various kinds, but chiefly those of a lepidopterous character, and small diptera. With age comes an increase in the quantity and character of their food, and at the age of four weeks they desert the home-shelter, and forage in common with their parents. Thus they spend their lives, careless and happy, until the first appearance of the "sere and yellow leaf" in September warns them of the growing scarcity of food-stuffs, and bids them retire to the groves of our southernmost States, or to scenes beyond the Mexic line.
Their eggs are oval in form, and slightly pointed. In ground-color they are white, and spotted and blotched with reddish-brown, slate and lilac. Cabinet specimens, however, show sometimes a faint bluish- or greenish-white tint. The markings, though varying considerably, are uniformly distributed. In size, there is noticeable but little variation in specimens from diverse localities; eggs from Michigan differing but slightly from those from Texas, and these sustaining the same' relation to sets from Pennsylvania. The average dimensions of a clutch of four from New Jersey are .59 by .48 inches. The depth of the nest precludes us from showing the eggs in situ. We are therefore compelled to give a drawing below, which will be found to be of the natural proportions. The female-bird, which is placed in close contiguity to the nest, may be easily distinguished from her mate, by the absence of black upon the head.
[Original Size]
Plate XXVII.—PASSERINA CIRIS, (Linn.) Gray.—Nonpareil; Painted Bunting
For variety and brilliancy of coloring none of our North American finches can compare with the one which constitutes the subject of this sketch. The euphonious French title by which it is designated has been most aptly chosen. For, verily, it is the nonpareil of avian beauty. Nature seems to have spared no pains in making this her handiwork the perfection of artistic design and ornamentation. Such an array of colors, and the beautiful harmony which characterizes their blending, bespeak no mean, unskilful painter, but a master-hand, before whose paltriest, weakest efforts the noblest of man's productions sinks into insignificance.
Contrasted with its less showy associates that frequent the same delightful, sunny landscapes to breed, this lovely species seems altogether out of place. It is a fitter denizen for realms beyond the tropic, where the broad-leaved banana hangs its clustering, golden flagons temptingly to the gaze, and where many-hued, various life rejoices in wanton prodigality.
Though reared amid the rich savannas and fertile slopes of South Carolina, and the belt of country thence westward to the Pecos River, of Texas, it is only a temporary sojourner. With the first breath that comes from the north, in the fall, it takes its departure, and wings its flight to warmer latitudes. The land of the Aztec, and the warm isles of the sea to the southward, are its destination. A few individuals, fond of travel and change of scenery, do not, however, pause from their journey until they have reached the Isthmus which weds the two great halves of the American continent.
As spring approaches, an anxious spirit of restlessness seizes the males, which sooner or later communicates itself to the opposite sex. This is manifest some time before setting out. But guided by a never-erring instinct, they curb their impatience, and thus bring it under restraint. Hence, like many kindred species, they are not very early comers. The middle of April—the season of sunshine and of showers—usually dates their first appearance in the Gulf States, and from this time they are not slow in reaching their most northern homes. The lords, in their spruce and rich attires, generally lead their sober, unadorned companions by several days, and may be seen in low thickets along the borders of streams, among the rice plantations, or in the vicinity of the sad, cheerless sea. Fond of the lowlands, at such times, one would imagine that such situations would have a depressing effect, and render them gloomy and despondent. But this is far from being the truth. Almost from the beginning of their arrival, they are endowed with the propensity to sing, even before their partners have come. From the summit of a Wayside bush, a fence-rail, or from out the hedges of some suburban villa, their rich, mellifluent warblings may be heard to the infinite pleasure and joy of the weary pedestrian. These musical utterances resemble the notes of the common Indigo Bird, but lack their energy and power of sustentation. It is not now that their songs are heard to the best advantage, but when the season of mating occurs, a fortnight later. They are then in their happiest moods. The presence of the dear ones excites within them the passion of love, and calls forth the highest capabilities of their natures. In the days of Wilson these were recognized, and many a male-bird was captured and confined to a cage, by the French inhabitants of the lower parishes of Louisiana, not more for the splendor of his plumage, the docility of his manners, than for the sweetness of his song. Great numbers were not only decoyed into traps, and other devices, to satisfy the growing desire for such pets at home, but hundreds were shipped to other countries. But it is only of late years that their introduction into our northern cities has been an object of pecuniary profit, and now almost every fancier's store is made to rejoice with the dulcet strains of this beautiful and active little Finch.
Coming back from this digression, let us view, for a few moments, the character of the sexes, and their behavior at the time of mating. Naturally pugnacious in the presence of a rival, the male is all gentleness and kindness when in the society of females, and exerts his best efforts to please and conciliate. The character of the female is the exact antithesis of his, and wins admiration by its sweetness and simplicity. Modest and plain in dress, she is equally artless and unassuming in demeanor. The courage which she sees displayed by her masculine protector does not impress her with feelings of awe and timidity, but challenges her admiration, confidence and esteem. Knowing that such conduct, so thoroughly devoid of civility as it seemeth, is but the outgrowth of jealous affection, she is drawn to him by an influence which she cannot control nor resist. Consequently, his road to happiness and bliss is one untrammeled by the cares and trials which beset the paths of less fortunate claimants for female favors. He has only to present his suit accompanied by the usual protestations of love, to have it honored with a prompt and willing acceptance. While these amours are being enacted, a rival dare not intrude upon the hallowed precincts. Such an act of temerity would but be the prelude to a bitter encounter, which must result in one or the other of the combatants being driven away discomfited and disgraced. The females are never known to take part in these affrays, but maintain, at a safe distance, an attitude of passivity. So well known to the bird-dealers of New Orleans is this peculiar disposition about which we have been writing, that advantage is taken thereof for the purposes of the trade. It is on this wise: A mounted male-bird is placed in a position of defence upon the platform of a trap-cage. As soon as discovered, it is attacked by a male-bird with determined vigor, and even after the trap is sprung, and the assailant has become an unwilling prisoner, these assaults are continued with zealous and unremitting pertinacity.
Events now follow each other in close succession. Pairing being solemnized, the birds seek themselves out a spot for a home. Low growths are usually selected. In Texas, thick mezquite-bushes and live oaks, and, in Louisiana, orange hedges, bramble and blackberry bushes, and, occasionally, the lower branches of trees are occupied. The height above the ground seldom exceeds ten feet, the usual elevation being from four to five feet. A crotch is generally the recipient of the fabric, except in cases where tangled bushes are used, when their booked and prong-like branches serve as girders of support.
By the first of May, everything being in readiness, the ground-floor of the domicile is laid, and little by little the walls are raised, through the cool, united efforts of the two patient workers. By no means as artistic as some we have already described, yet it is, withal, a neat, comfortable and staid structure. The materials of composition are not at all varied, but usually consist of dried grass, vegetable stems, leaves in small quantities, fine rootlets, and silk of caterpillars, on the exterior, and horse-hairs, or the slender culms of grasses, on the interior. In many instances, the stems are clothed with long hairs, which serve as points of attachment to the cottony and silken fibres which bind the coarser substances together. A nest before us presents to the unaided vision a slight lustrous appearance from the vast numbers of membranous dessepiments or partitions—relics of seed-vessels that are adherent to most of the stems. The cavity has an even, unragged margin, which is due to the great pains taken in the disposition of the flaxen fibres which, in a great measure, compose it. On the whole, the outside is remarkably smooth and uniform, while the interior, with its circularly-arranged layers, is a perfect model of elegance and comfort. The height of the nest which we have figured, and the same may be reasonably true of all such structures, is two and one-tenth inches, and the width, two and nine-tenths. The opening is one and nine-tenths inches in diameter, and nearly the same in depth. This nest was collected in Comal County, Texas, on the ninth of May, 1881, and is a fair representation of the typical structure. In the drawing it is shown upon a live oak branch, of natural dimensions, and with the female in the distance. Her partner is figured in the foreground, and may be readily distinguished. His head and neck are a beautiful ultramarine-blue, excepting a narrow patch from the chin to the breast, which inclines to vermillion-red. The eye-lids, and the under parts generally, are of this latter shade, while the rump is tinged with purplish. All other parts (the lesser wing coverts, tail feathers, and outer webs of quills excluded) are green, excepting the interscapular region, which reflects a gloss of yellow, while the undescribed portions are purplish-blue. What a contrast to the female-bird, which can only boast of a dark green habit with a yellowish front. The young are the likeness of their mothers. The length of the adult is five and a half inches, and expanse of wings, two and seven-tenths.
From the first commencement of the home, to its final completion for occupancy, not more than a week elapses, and the female is ready to deposit her first instalment of eggs. This is succeeded by similar payments, to the number of four or five, of the great debt which Nature demands of her. Having settled the last obligation, she nestles down into her cosy chamber with the determination to watch and wait for the priceless treasures which she knows must be her ultimate reward. While she is thus about her agreeable business, her proud and dignified companion is abroad in quest of enjoyment and luxurious living. He seems to be the happiest of fellows. Could you hear him as he wends his way among the orangeries, in the full tide of song, you could not help feeling that he is the most thoughtless and cruel fellow of your acquaintance. Never a care does he appear to have for the patient little being who is sitting her life away, in order that his loneliness and hers shall be blessed with a happy house-full of children. But it is otherwise. Seemingly unmindful, he is at heart a clever being. Let but his home be invaded, and he is on the spot in an instant, ready to avenge any wrong, in his own summary manner, that may be attempted or committed. But his loving and Quaker-like housewife is possessed of greater forbearance. Trustful and gentle, she will often permit herself to be lifted from the nest rather than expose her jewels to the greed and cruelty of an unsympathizing world. While a comparatively close prisoner at home for a period of fourteen days during the incubating process, she, however, does occasionally quit its shadows, when sorely pressed by hunger, but only for a brief time.
The appearance of the young is the inauguration of a change in the male's demeanor. Proud of his progeny, he breaks away from his hitherto aimless habits, and makes amends therefore by becoming a very dutiful and affectionate parent. With equal zeal he assists his partner in collecting the various insects which contribute to their nourishment. As long as their helplessness continues, he may be thus observed. But when, after a period of thirteen or fourteen days, the young are able to quit the nest, he abates his care in a measure, and teaches them to help themselves. When sufficiently matured, like their parents, they feed upon rice, the seeds of figs, and the various grains peculiar to their native haunts, as well as upon insects. The young females soon acquire their proper dress, but the males, on the contrary, are slow in arriving at the same condition. Four years, at the farthest, are necessary to bring about the final change.
The eggs are rounded-oval, of a white or grayish color, and beautifully marked with brown and violet-colored spots chiefly about the larger extremities, but more scattered, smaller and paler ones over the rest of the eggs. In some specimens from Texas and Louisiana, the violet spots predominate, thus contrasting in a marked manner with normal forms. The average dimensions of a set from Texas are as follows: .85 by .60, .80 by .60, .80 by .60 and .85 by .60 inches. Another set from Comal County, of the same State, measure respectively .81 by .03, .81 by .63, .75 by .63 and .75 by .62 inches. Nests with eggs, found as late as June 21st, seem to warrant the belief that two broods are annually raised, but this needs confirmation. In confinement, as many as three are of common occurrence.
