THE BIRTH OF THE HUMMINGBIRD.
It was born in a valley of violets
Where bird and flower for its favor vied,
Its father a poppy gone stark mad,
Its mother a reckless honey bee,
(True child of such startling pedigree)
Its cradle a sunbeam glorified.
It was bathed in a dewdrop morn by morn
And when the time for the christening came,
The font was filled with a jeweled flame;
Glitter of gems dissolved in mist,
White of diamond, its changing light,
Ruby, emerald, amethyst,
And its christening robe was encrusted quite.
Nelly Hart Woodworth.
THE ROSE TANAGER.
(Pyranga aestiva.)
“Oh, if it might be that the roses
Be winged, and flying to thee,
Could bear thee a thousand greetings,—
Thou knowing they came from me!
And if song might be given the roses,
When I sped them in token to thee,
They should warble my song to thee softly—
Thou thinking the while on me!”
—From the German of Abingulf Wegener.
The brilliant Rose Tanager,
“Encircled with poetic atmosphere,
As lark emballed by its own crystal song.”
might be the fulfillment of the poet’s roseate dream, and the message that he bears a vocal incense from the flower’s glowing heart.
But if the burden of the one-half of the tanager duet is “my love is like a red, red rose,” the other half probably completes the flowery simile, with the proud refrain, “my love is like a green, green leaf,” and when the time of the bloom of the rose is past and the rosy plumes, like petals, fall away, he stands revealed an olive calyx, attended as the season wanes by an assemblage of belated olivaceous buds, whose song and carmine tints are folded away to await the summons of the next year’s sun.
And when they return to us again in the full flower of their beauty from their southern home, gorgeous as if stained in the dyes of the tropic sun, their song is said to be suffused with color like the mellow tones of the rose-breasted grosbeak and oriole.
This song Nuttall describes as a strong and sonorous whistle like that of the Baltimore bird, “resembling the trill or musical shake on the fife, and is frequently repeated; while that of the female is chattering and is chiefly uttered in alarm when any person approaches the vicinity of the nest. From the similarity of her color to the foliage of the trees, she is rarely seen and is usually mute, while the loquacity and brilliancy of the male, as he flies timidly and wildly through the branches, render him a most distinguished and beautiful object.”
Audubon pronounced the usual note of this bird as unmusical, resembling the sounds “chicky-chucky-chuck,” which is not, indeed, suggestive of poetic inspiration on the part of this “poet-prophet of the spring,” but the same author states that during the spring he sings pleasantly for nearly half an hour in succession, and that the song resembles that of the red-eyed vireo, his notes being sweeter and more varied and nearly equal to those of the orchard oriole.
Mr. Ridgway describes the song as somewhat after the style of the robin, but in a firmer tone and more continued, and, as compared with that of the scarlet tanager, with which he is often confounded, it is more vigorous and delivered in a manner less faltering. He describes the note of anxiety as a peculiar “pa-chip-it-tut-tut-tut,” very different from the weaker cry of Pyranga rubra.
Mr. Chapman says the summer tanager may be easily identified, not alone by its color, but by its unique call note, a clearly enunciated “chicky-tucky-tuck.” Its song bears a general resemblance to that of the scarlet, but to some ears is much sweeter, better sustained and more musical. According to some authorities it equals the robin’s in strength, but is uttered more hurriedly, is more “wiry” and much more continued.
Of the bird of Eastern North America Mr. Maynard says: “When the cold north winds cease to blow and the air in the piny woods is redolent with the perfume of the sundew, creeping mimosa and other delicate plants, which only bloom late in the spring, the voices of the summer tanagers are heard in the tops of the highest trees, when their songs are full of wild melody in perfect keeping with their surroundings. * * * So closely do they conceal themselves in the thick foliage that were it not for the loud song notes, which are constantly repeated, it would be difficult to discover them.”
From one of its habits the Rose Tanager is known to farmers as the red bee bird, and, although a bird of day, its taste for nocturnal beetles often leads it to the pursuit of its prey until the shades of evening have darkened into night, when, with the light of its plumes extinguished, as it were, with the setting sun, it proceeds silently and invisibly upon its gustatorial mission.
But it is credible that it is only when he is in his colorless nocturnal disguise that the prosaic beetle is permitted to refresh this Avian bloom, and that when the god of day has transformed the voiceless shade of night into the winged and musical rose of ornithology for his life’s sustenance, the same moment witnesses the miracle of the “dewdrops the sunrise has reddened to wine,” and that to his inspiration is poured Aurora’s rosy libation, the enchanted
“Wine that Morning spills
Upon the heaven-kissing hills.”
Juliette A. Owen.