The Children's Book of Birds

by Olive Thorne Miller

The hermit thrush spends his winters in the Southern States, and his summers in the Northern. But in the far West, where are no cold winters, the hermit does not have to move back and forth. In that part of the country the bird is the Western Hermit Thrush.

This bird is one of our finest singers, and a very shy bird. His home is in the woods, and from there we hear his loud, clear song, morning and evening. Many people think his song is the finest bird-song we have. His ordinary call as he goes about is a kind of "chuck." The Western hermit differs hardly at all. He may be a little smaller, but he is the same delightful singer and lovely character.

The mother hermit makes her nest on the ground, and hides it so well that it is hard to find,—though I'm afraid snakes, and squirrels, and other woods creatures who like eggs to eat find it more often than we do.

Shy as the hermit is, he is an intelligent bird. A mother hermit a few years ago strayed into the grounds of a gentleman in Massachusetts and built a nest under a pine-tree. When she was found, she was at first very much frightened. But the owner of the place was a bird-lover, and gentle and quiet in his ways, and she got so used to him that she let him photograph her many times.

A gentleman, Mr. Owen, once captured a young hermit thrush so lately out of the nest that he could not fly much. He kept him in the house several weeks, and found out many interesting things about young thrushes. One thing he discovered was that the bird has his own notions about food. He ate raw meat and earthworms. But when worms were fed to him that came from a dirty place, he threw them out of his mouth, wiped his beak, and showed great disgust. The worms brought from clean garden earth he ate greedily.

The little captive had his own way of eating a worm. He began by worrying it awhile, and then swallowed it tail first.

He showed his instinct for sleeping high by being very restless at night, till let out of his cage. Then he flew to the highest perch he could find in the room, and roosted for the night.

The bird showed himself friendly and not at all afraid of people. Mr. Owen got so attached to him that when he let him go in the woods he felt as if he had parted with a dear friend.

In the picture you see two hermit thrushes. The upper one is singing, and the lower one looking calmly at you, in the way of these beautiful birds.