189. Rocky Mountains-Hüttensänger oder Steinschmätzer (... Sialia arctica Swns.) Eine Vogelstudie aus den Felsingebergen. Von Fr. Trefz. Ibid., p. 81.
General Notes.
Description of a Nest of the Water Ouzel.—The nest of the Water Ouzel (Cinclus mexicanus) is perhaps not so well known as to make the following description of one wholly uninteresting. The nest when found was in good condition, and had evidently been used the past season. It was built under a slightly overhanging wall of limestone, on a ledge projecting seven or eight inches from the wall, and about four feet above low-water mark, the deepest part of a swift mountain stream flowing directly beneath. The material of construction was a bright green moss, forming a rather conspicuous object for some distance along the opposite bank. The nest has a nearly spherical interior seven inches in diameter. The entrance is triangular, one side of the triangle forming the top and being three and one-half inches across and three inches above the lower angle. The most exposed side of the nest varies from three to four inches in thickness, the top and remainder being only an inch and a half through. At time of finding, the interior of the nest was perfectly clean, but outside, just below the opening, the rock was discolored for some distance by excrement of the birds. Side by side with this nest was an older one partially destroyed, and I fancied I could see traces of still another on the same ledge not far off. The birds had evidently lived in the locality for some time.—R. S. Williams, Gold Run, Montana.
The Short-billed Marsh Wren in New Hampshire.—On the 24th of August, 1881, while investigating the recesses of a fresh water marsh at Rye Beach, N. H., I found a colony of Short-billed Marsh Wrens (Cistothorus stellaris) in a small meadow about a mile from the sea. One bird was shot, and five or six others seen and heard.
Mr. Wm. Brewster in 1872 found this bird in the same vicinity, but in a locality about five miles farther inland.
These two records extend the northern range of the Short-billed Marsh Wren, and give it a place among the birds of New Hampshire.—Henry M. Spelman, Cambridge, Mass.
Early Arrival of the Yellow-rump in Southern Maine.—This morning—March 21, 1882—I found a solitary Yellow-rumped Warbler (Dendræca coronata) flitting about in a straggling growth of spruces, on Cape Elizabeth. His arrival is unprecedentedly early for this vicinity. The Yellow-rumps usually reach Portland in the last week of April, sometimes not until after May 1, and up to to-day I have never seen one before April 21, which was the date of their appearance in 1879. My little friend of this morning was probably only an accidental and temporary visitor. Snow still lies from two to three feet deep in the woods, and much blustering, wintry weather must be expected, before the earliest Warblers come to us in earnest.—Nathan Clifford Brown, Portland, Maine.
Late Stay (probable Wintering) of Dendrœca pinus in Massachusetts.—A few individuals of the Pine-creeping Warbler remained so late with us the last season, that their courage deserves a record. I found four of them on December 5, 1881, in company with Chickadees, in a rocky run thickly set with maples and alders. There were no pines, but a small bunch of them not far away. I shot one, according to rule, to make sure of the species. Being desirous of ascertaining if they proposed to spend the winter in that cheerful company, on January 1, 1882, I sent a young friend, who is well posted and a good observer, to the locality, and he reported seeing two of the Warblers so near at hand, perhaps twenty feet, as to make the identification positive. I intended to look for them again in February, but was unable to do so.—F. C. Browne, Framingham, Mass.
The Hooded Warbler in Western New York.—From various points in the dense forest, on the balmy days of May, comes the common and familiar song of the Hooded Warbler,—che-reek, che-reek, che-reek, chi-dì-eê, the first three notes with a loud bell-like ring, and the rest in very much accelerated time, and with the falling inflection. Arriving early in May, this is one of our common summer residents throughout the dense upland forests, occupying the lower story of the woodland home, while the Cœrulean Warbler occupies the upper. Here let me say that in addition to its alarm note, a sharp whistling or metallic chip which is very clearly characterized, the Hooded Warbler has two distinct songs, as different as if coming from different species. Never shall I forget how I was once puzzled by this trick. I was strolling in a thick forest, near the corner of a slashing, in an evening twilight in June, when I was surprised by a strange whistling melody.—whee-reeh, whee-ree-eeh—with a marked emphasis on the second syllable, and a still more marked one on the last. Part of the time this utterance was somewhat varied, a few notes being sometimes added, and again a few being dropped. My curiosity was greatly excited, for I had supposed myself familiar with the voices of all the birds in the neighborhood; but it became too dark to identify the bird. For nearly a week I went to that spot every day, always hearing the song, but never being able to get a clear sight of the bird. It seemed exceedingly shy. In vain did I crawl on hands and knees among the undergrowth to get near to it; for just as I would seem about to gain a good view of it the song would cease at the point under observation and come from one more distant. Just as I was about to give the matter up one evening, down came the singer, stage by stage through the thick foliage, and alighting within a few feet of me and in clear sight, gave the full effect of his whistling song. I have since heard the same song a number of times and in different places from the Hooded Warbler. So I conclude that in the case of this species there are, occasionally at least, two distinct and altogether different songs.
The Hooded Warbler is one of those which make their home on or near the ground. Here it keeps itself for the most part well concealed among the foliage of the thick undergrowth, having a rather slow and dignified movement for a bird of its kind.