Mr. Audubon further states that in severe winters he has met with it as far south as Natchez on the Mississippi. It is also not uncommon in Kentucky during the same season, but he never met with it near the seaboard.
Mr. Kennicott’s memoranda in reference to this species are to the effect that he observed one individual at Fort Simpson, September 23, and again October 22, but on no other occasion. Both of these specimens, when first observed, were singing. Their notes, he states, were low and irregular, but were varied and quite musical. Captain Blakiston found these birds winter residents on the Saskatchewan.
In the fall and winter of 1871, a pair of these birds was attracted to the Common, in Boston, by the large number of half-domesticated European Sparrows. For a while they made daily inroads upon these favorites, killing one or more for several days in succession. They appeared to keep themselves secreted most of the time, showing themselves each day early in the forenoon, and pouncing upon their victims, unaware of their near presence, in the manner of a Hawk, aiming always at the heads, which were torn off and devoured; generally the headless remains were left uneaten. In one instance where a Sparrow had been struck on the back, an ugly wound was made, the bird escaped alive, and was soon after seen, in the middle of Tremont Street, apparently not seriously injured. These Shrikes were so bold and destructive that pains had to be taken to watch for and shoot them. Three were killed, on different days, and each with a dead Sparrow in its claws, upon which it was feasting when shot.
Both Mr. Audubon and Mr. Nuttall refer to this Shrike’s imitating the cries of other birds, apparently to decoy them within its reach. The former has heard it utter cries like those of the Sparrow screaming in the claws of a Hawk, to induce them to come out of their coverts and rescue their suffering fellows, and has seen them dart suddenly into a thicket in pursuit of one, from which would soon issue the real cries of the bird it had seized. Nuttall states that in some parts of New England this Shrike is called a Mocking-Bird, on account of its imitations of the notes of smaller birds. Its more usual note resembles the discordant creaking of a signboard hinge. He also states that it has been known to mimic the quacking of ducks, so that these would answer to it as to a decoy. He heard one of these birds, as late as November 10, uttering a low and soft warble, resembling that of the Song Sparrow, immediately after changing it to the notes of the Catbird.
When in pursuit of small birds, it will dart down with closed wings, in the manner of a Hawk, and seldom fails to obtain the object of its pursuit, following it with rapidity and pertinacity through the thickets in which it seeks shelter. When it seizes its prey, it alights on its back, and tears open its head.
Its bold audacity and perseverance are quite remarkable, and are often displayed, in the fall, in the manner in which it will enter an apartment through an open window and attack a Canary, even in the presence of members of the family. It rarely fails, if it gains access to the cage, to destroy its inmate before the latter can be rescued by the intervention of those present, and only by great promptness in sheltering the cage. In one instance the writer was sitting at a closed window reading, with a Canary hanging above him. Suddenly there was a severe blow struck at the pane of glass near the cage, and the frightened Canary uttered cries of alarm and fell to the bottom of its cage. The cause was soon explained. A Shrike had dashed upon the bird, unconscious of the intervening glass, and was stretched upon the snow under the window, stunned by the blow. He revived when taken up, and lived several days, was sullen, but tame, and utterly devoid of fear. He refused raw meat, but eagerly tore in pieces and devoured small birds when given to him. His tameness and indifference to our presence may have been occasioned by stupor arising from his injury. In another case a Shrike made a similar attack, but escaped unharmed, and though he remained about the house several days, was too wary to allow himself to be decoyed within gunshot.
A nest of the Northern Shrike, containing six eggs, was obtained by R. R. McFarlane, at Anderson River Fort, June 11, 1863. This is in many respects in striking contrast with the nests of its kindred species of the Southern States, far exceeding them in its relative size, in elaborate finish and warmth. It is altogether a remarkable example of what are known as felted nests, where various materials are most elaborately worked together into a homogeneous and symmetrical whole. It is seven inches in diameter
and three and a half in height. The cavity is proportionately large and deep, having a diameter of four and a half inches, and a depth of two. Except the base, which is composed of a few twigs and stalks of coarser plants, the nest is made entirely of warm and soft materials, most elaborately interworked together. These materials are feathers from various birds, fine down of the Eider and other ducks, fine mosses and lichens, slender stems, grasses, etc., and are skilfully and artistically wrought into a beautiful and symmetrical nest, strengthened by the interposition of a few slender twigs and stems without affecting the general felt-like character of the whole. The egg measures 1.10 inches by .80, and is of a light greenish ground, marbled and streaked with blotches of obscure-purple, clay-color, and rufous-brown.
Sir John Richardson found this a by no means uncommon bird in the woody districts, at least as far as the sixteenth parallel. On account of its resemblance to the Canada Jay, the Indians called it the “White Whiskey-John.” It remains all winter in the fur regions, but is much more numerous in summer. He states that the nest is built in the fork of a tree, of dry grass and lichens neatly intertwined, and lined with feathers.
Collurio ludovicianus, Baird.