The Great American Shrike is common in the northern parts of the continent, but sometimes summers in New England and Pennsylvania. He feeds on grasshoppers, spiders, and small birds, and after satisfying hunger, impales his remaining victims on thorns. When his supply of fresh game is abundant, he leaves his stores to dry up and decay. He is fearless, and will attack even the eagle in defence of his young. The Loggerhead Shrike is a species strongly resembling the one described.
Great American Shrike.
The Tyrant Flycatcher, or Kingbird, is the field martin of Maryland and some of the southern states, and the kingbird of Pennsylvania and several of the northern districts. The trivial name king, as well as tyrant, has been bestowed on this bird for its extraordinary behavior in breeding time, and for the authority it assumes over all other birds. His extreme affection for his mate, nest, and young, makes him suspicious of every bird that comes near his residence, so that he attacks every intruder without discrimination; his life at this season is one continued scene of broils and battles; in which, however, he generally comes off conqueror. Hawks and crows, the bald eagle, and the great black eagle, all equally dread a rencontre with this merciless champion, who, as soon as he perceives one of these last approaching, launches into the air to meet him, mounts to a considerable height above him, and darts down on his back, sometimes fixing there to the great annoyance of his sovereign, who, if no convenient retreat be near, endeavors by various evolutions to rid himself of his merciless adversary; but the kingbird is not so easily dismounted. He teazes the eagle incessantly, sweeps upon him and remounts that he may descend on his back with greater violence; all the while keeping up a shrill and rapid twittering. The purple martin, however, is sometimes more than a match for him.The general color of this bird is a dark slaty ash, the throat and lower parts are pure white; the plumage on the head, though not forming a crest, is frequently erected, and discovers a rich bed of orange color, called by the country people his crown; when the feathers lie close, this is concealed.
The other principal Flycatchers are, the Great-crested, Arkansas, Fork-tailed, Swallow-tailed, Says, Pewit, and Olive-sided; the last first described by Mr. Nuttall in his valuable work, from a specimen obtained at Mount Auburn, now the celebrated cemetery in the neighborhood of Boston.
The Mocking Bird is peculiar to the new world, and is found in much larger numbers in the southern than the northern states of the Union. A warm climate and low country seem to be most congenial to its nature. It feeds on berries and insects. ‘The mocking bird,’ says Wilson, whose description has never been surpassed, ‘builds his nest in different places, according to the latitude in which he resides. A solitary thorn bush; an almost impenetrable thicket; an orange tree, cedar, or holly bush, are favorite spots. Always ready to defend, but never over anxious to conceal his nest, he very often builds within a small distance of a house; and not unfrequently in a pear or apple tree, rarely higher than six or seven feet from the ground. The nest is composed of dry twigs, weeds, straw, wool and tow, ingeniously put together, and lined with fine fibrous roots. During the time when the female is sitting, neither cat, dog, man, or any animal can approach the nest without being attacked. But the whole vengeance of the bird is directed against his mortal enemy the black snake. Whenever this reptile is discovered, the male darts upon it with the rapidity of an arrow, dextrously eluding its bite, and striking it violently and incessantly against the head, where it is very vulnerable. The snake soon becomes sensible of his danger, and seeks to escape; but the intrepid bird redoubles his exertions, and as the snake’s strength begins to flag, he seizesand lifts it up from the ground, beating it with his wings, and when the business is completed, he returns to his nest, mounts the summit of the bush, and pours out a torrent of song in token of victory.
Mocking Birds.
‘The plumage of the mocking bird has nothing gaudy or brilliant in it, but that which so strongly recommends him, is his full, strong and musical voice, capable of almost every modulation, from the mellow tones of the woodthrush, to the savage screams of the bald eagle. In his native groves, mounted on the top of a tall bush, in the dawn of a dewy morning, while the woods are already vocal with a multitude of warblers, his admirable song rises pre-eminent over every competitor. The ear can listen to his music alone. Nor is the strain altogether imitative. His own native notes are bold and full, and varied seemingly beyond all limits. They consist of short expressions of two, three, or five and six syllables, generally interspersed with imitations, all of them uttered with great emphasis and rapidity, and continued for an hour at a time with undiminished ardor; his expanded wings and tail glistening with white, and the buoyant gaiety of his action arresting the eye, as his song most irresistibly does the ear. He sweeps round with enthusiastic ecstasy—he mounts and descends as his song swells or dies away—and, as Mr. Bartram has beautifully expressed it, “he bounds aloft with the celerity of an arrow, as if to recover or recall his very soul, expired in the last elevated strain.” While thus exerting himself, a bystander would suppose that the whole feathered tribes had assembled together on a trial for skill—so perfect are his imitations.
‘The mocking bird loses little of the power and energy of his song by confinement. In his domesticated state, when he commences his career of song, it is impossible to stand by uninterested. He whistles for the dog; Cæsar starts up, wags his tail, and runs to meet his master. He squeaks out like a hurt chicken, and the hen hurries about with hanging wings and bristling feathers, clucking to protect her injured brood. The barking of the dog, the mewing of the cat, the creaking of the passing wheelbarrow, follow with great truth and rapidity. He repeats the tune taught him by his master, though of considerable length, fully and faithfully. He runs over the quiverings of the canary, and the clear whistlings of the Virginia nightingale, or red bird, with such superior execution and effect, that the mortified songsters feel their own inferiority, and become silent, while he seems to triumph in their defeat by redoubling his exertions.’