When the three are together it is very easy to distinguish that species from the rest, by the greater length of the bill and tarsus, and the greater breadth of the black band along the middle of each tail-feather. In all the species, the bills of individuals differ greatly in length, old birds having them much longer than younger ones.
In the republication of Wilson's Ornithology, by Sir William Jardine, Bart., the editor makes the following statement.—"Mr Audubon has figured a bird very closely allied in plumage, under the name of Ammodramus Henslowii, and, in the letter press, has described it as Henslow's Bunting, Emberiza Henslowii. It will evidently come under the first genus, and if new and distinct, will form a third North American species. It is named after Professor Henslow of Cambridge, and was obtained near Cincinnati. There is no account of its history and habits."—Vol. ii. p. 78. I have already shewn that the species is a perfectly distinct one, but its affinities are not with Ammodramus. During my last three years' rambles in the United States, my friends, my assistants, and myself, procured hundreds of specimens of the Henslow's Bunting, and gained much information respecting its habits, which are totally different from those of Fringilla caudacuta or F. maritima. The Henslow Bunting is never found near salt water marshes, as these species always are, but spends its life on dry elevated meadows and in sandy open pine forests, where it passes the winter in the Southern and Western Districts. As to the similarity of colouring alluded to, I cannot see the least resemblance between the birds in question, in that respect, more than in size or shape. This might have become apparent, had he compared my figure of the Henslow Bunting with that given by Wilson, which in my humble opinion is incorrect. I have not represented the nest of F. maritima along with my figures of that bird, although this has been asserted.
THE RED-EYED VIREO.
Vireo olivaceus, Bonap.
PLATE CL. Male.
One of the principal differences between the habits of this and some other species, which are now called Vireos, and the Flycatchers, is, that the former procure their food principally by moving about, and along the branches or the twigs of the trees, by light hops, alternately changing sides, reaching and securing their prey by an elastic extension of the legs and neck, without the continual snapping or clicking of the bill so common among the Muscicapæ on such occasions, and that they seldom make sorties on the wing to any distance, for the purpose of seizing the insects on which they usually feed. This habit is retained until autumn, when, insects being scarce, the Vireo sallies forth to a short distance in pursuit of them, as they may chance to pass near the tree on which, in the silent mood of a Flycatcher, it stands erect, using the watchful side-glances peculiar to its tribe, as it anxiously expects the passage of its prey. Another difference is, that Vireos are generally more musical, lively and gay, than Flycatchers, so that their society is more welcome to man; and, as if fully conscious of their superiority in this respect, and knowing that they commit no depredations upon his fruit or bees, calculated to arouse his anger, they often suffer him to approach with a carelessness that evidently proves the simplicity of their nature. The third great difference between the Vireos and Flycatchers is, that the former seldom, if ever, go down from the trees to the water, for the purpose of drinking; while the latter are often seen gliding closely over rivers and pools, from which they sip their drink. The Vireos quench their thirst with the drops of dew or rain that adhere to the leaves or twigs. I might add, that the quivering motions of the wings in Flycatchers when alighted, is not exhibited by the Vireos, at least has never been observed by me. On the other hand, the affinity existing between the Vireos and Muscicapæ is indicated by their being equally possessed of the power of regurgitation.
The Red-eyed Flycatcher is an inhabitant of the whole of our forests. Now you hear its sweet, unaffected, musical, loud and free warble, from the inner top branches of a tall tree, for hours at a time, and even during the hottest part of the day; again, you may count each note that it utters, the little vocalist resting as it were to enjoy the sounds of its own music; next moment all seems hurry and bustle;—it raises its voice, and chants on with great volubility, so loudly that one might think the little creature intent on drowning all other sounds. The darker the woods, the more cloudy the day, the more unremitting are its exertions. It is one of the earliest singers in spring, and among the latest in autumn. In the south-eastern parts of East Florida, where many spend the winter, I have heard its notes and those of the White-eyed Vireo, even at that season. In South Carolina, in the neighbourhood of Charleston, I have heard and seen it early in the month of February, when scarce a leaf was yet expanded. It is not seen in Louisiana until the beginning of March, and I am inclined to think that perhaps an equal number of these birds come to us from the West India Islands or from Mexico.
Few birds seem to enjoy life more than this Vireo, for at almost every short cessation of its song, it is seen making a movement or two up or along a branch, searching with extreme diligence for food, peeping cautiously under the leaves, and examining each bud or blossom with a care peculiarly its own. It may be seen flying from one tree to another with indefatigable industry, and this not only from morning to night, but during the whole time of its stay with us.
So abundant is this bird, and so prodigal of its song, that any one paying the least attention is sure to hear it either from the trees which embellish the streets of the villages and cities, or the gardens and woods. The principal notes resemble the syllables pewee, pea, sho-re, sheire, chew-ree, piwit. They are, as I have said, clear, loud, and melodious.
The flight of this bird is altogether performed in a gliding manner, and when it is engaged in pursuit of a rival or an enemy, it passes through the woods with remarkable swiftness. It is an affectionate parent, generally leading about its young, particularly its second brood; for it often breeds twice in the year, even in the State of Massachusetts, or far up on the Mississippi. On such occasions, the parents proceed through the woods with more care, and on the least appearance of danger utter a querulous note, the meaning of which is so well understood by the little family, that they seldom fail to hide or become mute in an instant. The young are fed for several weeks after they leave the nest, and, I believe, migrate with the old ones, for I have frequently seen them on the move until dusk, and going to roost together at nightfall. I do not recollect ever having seen one of them on the ground.
Like the true Flycatchers, these birds eject small pellets formed of the hard crusts of the abdomen, legs, and other parts of insects. I have but very seldom seen them feeding on berries of any kind, although in Louisiana I have observed them pecking at ripe figs.