THE PRAIRIE WARBLER.
(Dendroica discolor.)
This beautiful little Warbler cannot fail to awaken an interest in bird life in the mind of any person whose privilege it is to observe it in its chosen haunts. These are the shrubby pasture lands and the open woods of the eastern United States. It is more common in barren, sandy places of the Atlantic coast, where it seems to find an insect food suited to its taste. It not infrequently visits orchards, when in bloom, especially those in retired localities. Wilson, who wrote enthusiastically of the Prairie Warbler, says: “They seem to prefer open plains and thinly-wooded tracts, and have this singularity in their manners, that they are not easily alarmed, and search among the leaves the most leisurely of any of the tribe I have yet met with, seeming to examine every blade of grass and every leaf, uttering at short intervals a feeble chirr.”
Dr. Coues was also an ardent admirer of this little bird and during his college days frequently hunted and studied its habits. He found the “inflection of the Prairie Warbler’s notes a much more agreeable theme than that of a Greek verb,” and possibly quite as profitable. He says: “There was a little glade just by the college, a sloping sandy field run waste with scattered cedars, where we could be sure of finding the Warblers any day, from the twentieth of April, for two or three weeks. Ten to one we would not see the little creatures at first. But presently, from the nearest juniper, would come the well known sounds. A curious song, if song it can be called—as much like a mouse complaining of the toothache as anything else I can liken it to—it is simply indescribable. Then perhaps the quaint performer would dart out into the air, turn a somersault after a passing midge, get right side up and into the shrubbery again in an instant.”
The flight of the Prairie Warbler is neither strong nor protracted. Yet it is one of the most expert fly catchers among the Warblers. It is not a social bird and it is very seldom that more than two or three are seen together. A peculiar characteristic of this Warbler is that it does not try to lead an intruder away from the vicinity of its nest. Mr. Nuttall speaks of removing two eggs from a nest and replacing them in a short time. Each time he removed the eggs the female bird returned to the nest.
The Prairie Warbler is prettily colored. The back is marked with reddish-brown spots on an olive-green ground. Beneath the eye of the male there is a streak of black which is absent in the female. The throat and under parts are a rich yellow color, with small spots of black on the sides of the neck. The female is duller in color.
The nest is nearly always placed in the fork of a branch of either a tree or shrub and never far from the ground. A wild rose bush is sometimes selected. Mr. Welch describes one that he found in such a place. It was mainly constructed of “the soft inner bark of small shrubs mingled with dry rose leaves, bits of wood, woody fibers, decayed stems of plants, spiders’ webs, etc.” These were elaborately woven together and bound by “cotton-like fibers of a vegetable origin.” The nest had a lining of fine fibers and horse hair. He also calls attention to the upper rim of the nest, it “being a strongly interlaced weaving of vegetable roots and strips of bark.”
Mr. Nuttall describes the nest as not unlike that of a summer yellow-bird. He speaks of one that he examined as “being fixed in a trifid branch and formed of strips of inner red cedar bark and asclepias (milkweed) fibers, also with some caterpillar silk, and thickly lined with cud-weed down and slender tops of the bent grass (Agrostis.)”
It is difficult to understand why this bird should be called the Prairie Warbler, unless it is in order to distinguish it from those species that frequent less open places. A much more appropriate name is the Chestnut-backed Yellow Warbler. Though it is found in open places, this little bird would easily elude observation were it not for its peculiar notes, which Mr. Chapman describes as “a series of six or seven quickly repeated zees, the next to the last one the highest.”
APRIL BIRDS AND FLOWERS OF THE MISSISSIPPI GULF COAST.
Fickle April, with its sullen showers and teasing, wayward moods, its alternate days of warm sunshine and chilling rain, still leaves us who live north of the fortieth parallel in doubt whether summer really intends to come or not. Not so on the gulf coast; langorous breezes incline one to take life easy, the sun high overhead has the true June fervor, and, if further evidence is needed to convince us, ripening strawberries and blooming roses tell us that summer is here. Gardens filled with huge, flaming amaryllis, fragrant calycanthus and a thousand and one shrubs strange to the northern eye, greet us in every yard. In front of the houses and along the streets, their purple fragrance welcoming every newcomer, stand the China trees, the haunt of busy bees and their indefatigable pursuer the kingbird, or bee martin.