THE LOUISIANA WATER-THRUSH.
(Seiurus motacilla.)
The Louisiana Water-thrush is a woodland bird with quite an extended range, which includes all of the eastern United States west to the plains and north to Massachusetts, Michigan and Minnesota. It winters in the region of the Gulf of Mexico and southward into South America. This bird seems to be burdened with long names, for it is also called the Large-billed Water-thrush and Large-billed Wagtail Warbler. The last name is quite appropriate for it, as well as the other water-thrushes, are warblers rather than thrushes. The name Wagtail well describes one of its most striking characteristics. It is a dignified bird, and as it moves with stately steps along the limb of a tree, or a log upon the ground, the tail moves up and down in rhythm with its step. It is a shy bird and its “never-ceasing alertness suggests the watchfulness of the savage.” When discovered and that will not be until it already knows of the intruder’s presence, it sounds an alarm and quickly flies to some distant perch where it watches every movement of the invader, its body constantly teetering as if with suppressed excitement.
When seeking a nesting site the Water-thrush shows a partiality for wild and favorable localities near a stream of water, especially “where dashing brooks leap down wooded hillsides.” At times, however, it will select a retired spot on the wooded banks of a lowland stream or of a lake. The nest is built in some secure retreat among the roots of an overturned tree, in the cavity of an old log or stump, or in the moss under a bank. An impenetrable thicket with a rank growth of ferns and moss, is the usual desideratum when seeking a place to locate its home.
The nests are bulky and constructed with dead leaves, often partly decayed, which are obtained from the muddy banks and with the mud still adhering to them. These, with twigs and rootlets, are laid together and when the mud dries all are cemented into a compact mass which forms the wall of the nest. This is lined with fine grasses, small roots, bark fibers and feathers or hair. The nest is so similar in color to that of its environment that it is not easily detected.
The Louisiana Water-thrush seldom utters its interesting song when on the ground, but from some higher perch or when flying. Audubon thought its song was equal to that of the European nightingale; that its notes were as powerful and mellow and not infrequently as varied. Dr. Ridgway says, “This may be true of the ecstatic love-song, heard on rare occasions, and uttered as the singer floats in perfect abandon of joy, with spread tail and fluttering wings, but it can hardly be true of the ordinary song, which, although rich, sweet and penetrating, and almost startling in the first impression it creates, is soon finished and the pleasing effect is somewhat transient. It cannot be denied, however, that its song is one of the richest to be heard in our forests.”
Another Writer speaks of its song as “a beautiful, wild, wayward effort,” and Mr. Chapman says, “As a songster the Water-thrush is without a rival. His song is not to be compared with the clear-voiced carol of the rose-breasted grosbeak, the plaintive chant of the field sparrow, or the hymnlike melody of the true thrushes; it is of a different kind. It is the untamable spirit of the bird rendered in music. There is an almost fierce wildness in its ringing notes. On rare occasions he is inspired to voice his passion in a flight-song, which so far exceeds his usual performance that even the memory of it is thrilling.”
SOME DOGS.
When I was a small boy I lived with my parents in my grandfather’s home. Here was grandfather’s large dog Rouse. He was the constant companion of my uncle in his work on the farm. His great desire was to carry something in his mouth when the team started for the field. He was often given a singletree, with which he marched along, showing evident satisfaction. One day he concluded to cut across a field instead of going around the road. The fence was a high rail one and, burdened with the weight of the heavy singletree, he could not jump over. After several vain attempts he dropped his load, stood looking up and down the road. Then looking at the singletree for a moment picked it up and put it through between the rails. He then jumped over the fence, gathered up the singletree and trotted on.
One thing he absolutely refused to carry was an iron wedge unless it was put in a basket. On one occasion this same uncle lost the lash of the whip he was using in driving a yoke of oxen. He had another at the house, but it was nearly a mile distant. He wrote his want on a slip of paper and giving it to Rouse said, “Take this to mother.” He was soon scratching at the kitchen door. When the door was opened he dropped the note on the floor, was given the whip lash and hurried away to the field.
A certain dog belonged to a doctor. He often trotted along under the buggy when the doctor went to call on his patients. On one occasion the doctor rode horseback and hurriedly threw the bridle rein over a hitching post where the visit was made. The horse threw up his head, the bridle rein was freed from the post and the horse started down the road. The dog saw the move and started after him. After some little difficulty he caught the dangling rein, brought the horse back to the post and held him there until the doctor came out.