The poets have found in birds the most attractive of animals. There is scarcely one from the great Grecian era of taste and poetry to the present day, in whose productions passages do not occur, recognised as beautiful and deriving their essential character from this class of objects. Hebrew and Greek were alike in this respect, whether in the derivation of sacred symbols or of imagery in poetic allusion; the Dove of the former is of the same general character as the Peacock of Juno, or the Sparrows of Venus, poetic and truthful to nature and of the same origin. The Greek poets found in birds suitable accompaniments for the most sublime creations of their genius, their Deities. The greatest of Hebrew poets rejoices in the assurance that “the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the Turtle is heard in the land.”
Plate 42
The Curved-billed Thrush
Toxostoma rediviva (Gambel)
Singing birds belong exclusively to the class of Insessores or Perching birds. One Falcon only (an African species, Falco musicus), is said to possess a musical voice, not making, though we much suspect, any considerable figure in that line. No wading, swimming, or gallinaceous bird makes any pretensions.
The song was long considered as entirely the expression of love during the season, which has its most pleasant analogy in the spring-time of life, but that conclusion admits of some exceptions. Many birds sing in autumn apparently without the pleasant incitement of either actual or prospective attachment. Cases occur, too, as we have sometimes witnessed, of a bird having, to all appearance, failed in securing the object of his choice, remaining alone and solacing himself with a song occasionally for the balance of the season;—possibly somewhat of the nature of deriving comfort from “ends of verse and sayings of philosophers.”
Our present bird belongs to the family of Thrushes, but to a genus which can scarcely be said to be represented in the States on the Atlantic; though the Rufous Thrush (Mimus rufus) is very nearly related to it, if not actually belonging to the group. This bird has been observed by nearly all the naturalists who have visited western North America, and its history is comparatively well known. To our friend, Col. McCall, we have to acknowledge our obligations, as on many former occasions, for a contribution intended for our present article:—
“This remarkable bird, whose dulcet notes, flowing with exquisite smoothness, place him almost beyond rivalry among the countless songsters that enliven the woods of America, or indeed of the world at large, is as retired and simple in his manners as he is gay and brilliant in song. In his ordinary hearing, as well as in the very marked character of his flight, he exhibits a strong resemblance to our humble and unobtrusive, though always welcome vocalist, the Ferruginous Thrush (M. rufus); while in the faculty of modulating sweet sounds he is scarcely surpassed by the dashing, ambitious, and ever-animated Mocking Bird (M. polyglottus). His resemblance to the Ferruginous Thrush in the particulars above mentioned, forcibly impressed itself upon me the first time I saw the California bird. This was on the banks of the Rio Colorado, below the mouth of the Gila, where, in the month of June, the shade and seclusion afforded by the cotton-wood and the willow seemed to be a favorite abode of the species. I saw many individuals in the course of a ride of fifteen miles through this wild region. In one quiet nook I met with a pair ‘in love and mutual honors joined,’ who evidently had some dear little ‘pledges of peace’ secreted in the dense foliage around. They were greatly excited by my approach, deprecating the unlooked-for intrusion with abundant energy and vehemence. It was then that their harsh, scolding notes, their motions, and all their attitudes, reminded me most forcibly of my old friends of the Atlantic groves, although, under other circumstances, the resemblance was sufficiently obvious. But, besides their traits of character, there is a striking resemblance in the organization of the two species; the bill, for instance of M. rufus, when compared with the bills of its congeners, M. polyglottus, M. carolinensis, and others, is found to be greatly elongated and much curved, and in this lengthened and curved bill (to say nothing of the shorter wings and longer tail) may easily be discerned a decided approach to the remarkable form developed in T. rediviva, and other closely allied species. This coincidence of a similarity of organization with a similarity of manners is, I think, sufficiently marked to show a close relationship between the two species; or, in other words, to indicate M. rufus as the connecting link between these two distinct genera.
“The song of the California bird is far superior to that of the Thrush,—though it must be admitted that he has not the powerful voice of our Mocking bird, that prince of songsters, nor his imitative powers; but he certainly has a liquid mellowness of tone united with clearness of expression and volubility of utterance that cannot be surpassed. On the first occasion on which it was my good fortune to hear this bird fairly tune his pipes to sound a roundelay, the performer was perched upon the bare branch of an ancient oak, and his farewell carol to the departing day was delivered with a warmth and pathos so truly wonderful as to fill me with admiration and delight; and though I was then anxious to procure birds for the Museum of the Philadelphia Academy, I scarcely thought of molesting him whose vesper chaunt had just enlivened that wild, secluded vale! I cannot, even now, without a tweak of contrition and self-reproach, acknowledge that the desire to procure a ‘specimen’ prompted me, some time afterwards, to shoot a bird of this species.
“This almost sacrilegious act, I feel bound to confess, met with a just reward; for, having placed my prize on the branch of a neighboring tree, in order to preserve its plumage unruffled, while I continued my pursuit after game (for the larder as well as for the cabinet) I had the mortification, on my return, to find that some savage wild animal, as little impressed by soul-stirring music, I might almost say, as myself, had made a hasty supper off my divine songster, feathers and all.”
Dr. Heermann, in his manuscript notes, through his kindness now in our possession, thus mentions the present bird:—