The Nightingale
Perhaps no bird in the world is so famous as a songster as the nightingale, largely because of its habit of singing in the night, for its music is not preëminent above that of several other thrushes. The nightingale spends the winter in Africa, returning to Central Europe in April, and after that in the warmer parts of Great Britain and the continent it may be heard every night for weeks, especially when the moon shines; and sometimes nearly all day as well.
If one passes near a bush in which a nightingale is singing, it is worth while to stop and to whistle a few low notes. The bird imagines that it is being challenged by another nightingale, and begins to sing louder than before. Then it stops and listens; and if one whistles a few notes more it becomes very much excited, and comes closer and closer, singing all the time, till at last it finds out how it has been taken in. And then it begins to scold, chattering away in the greatest indignation at having been deceived!
Only the cock nightingale sings, and even he is only able to do so for a few weeks. For very soon after the eggs are hatched his voice breaks, just as that of the cuckoo does, and the only note which he is able to utter until spring comes round again is a harsh whistle, followed by a hoarse croak.
The nest of the nightingale is placed on the ground under a low bush, and is made almost entirely of dead leaves. It contains either four or five eggs, which are dark olive brown all over.
North American Thrushes
There is a long list of thrushes among our North American birds, and some of them will compare well as songsters with any of the woodland choristers of the world. The voice of our red-breasted robin carols sweetly enough in the spring; but he is far excelled a little later in the season by the wood-thrush, the hermit-thrush, the veery and certain others which come from the south when the weather becomes warm. Some of these species, as the hermit and its relatives, pass on into Northern Canada to make their nests and rear their young; but fortunately others—and among them queens of song—remain with us in the United States all summer.
Of these the most commonly seen and heard is that richest of woodland musicians, the wood-thrush, whose serenely beautiful song, in four parts, separated by brief pauses, floats to our ears from orchard and grove and shady roadside as the quiet of the summer evening draws on, and we begin to enjoy the coolness and peace of the twilight.
This eloquent thrush is reddish brown or bright cinnamon above, brightest on the head; and white below, thickly ornamented with rounded black spots in lines from throat to thighs. It is the least shy of all the thrushes except the robin, yet gracefully modest in its demeanor. It constructs its nest on the low horizontal limb of some tree, always with the peculiarity that its foundation is a layer of old sear leaves and that black, thread-like rootlets are a favorite material for the walls. The eggs are unspotted blue, smaller and lighter than the greenish treasures in the mud-built cabin of the robin.
Next in point of numbers, though not so often recognized, as the wood-thrush is the oliveback, which is distinctly olive in color on the back and flanks, and whose buffy underparts are unspotted save across the breast. This species is highly variable, so that those of the Pacific coast differ considerably from those of the Atlantic side of the continent.