A glance at these birds will take one into the same localities that have been so often traversed in the summer time, and once within the woods, the fact that they are cold and leafless is lost sight of. One can now find birds entirely different from any that he has heretofore seen, and at the same time learn several facts of interest concerning birds with which he considers himself well acquainted; as, for instance, the American goldfinch, which is supposed to migrate in the fall, will be found in the swampy woods in large flocks, but with plumage so changed that they will probably not be recognized, being of a somber brown color, and sexes undistinguishable. Why hundreds of a species, the majority of which migrate regularly, and which do not reach us until late in the spring, should change their dress and remain with us throughout our most severe winters is a problem.
In company with them will often be found the pine linnet and common red poll. These little finches are rather rare, and are seldom found together in any great numbers. They leave the North in large flocks, but as they journey southward break up into smaller and smaller companies, until only a few are left together. These join interests with the nearest goldfinches, and remain with them throughout the winter.
The results of a visit to the fields, on some clear day, will often repay a somewhat wearisome tramp. The snow buntings and shore larks frequent such places in large numbers, and a locality where the ground has been swept bare of snow, or is covered with a growth of weeds, is a favorite feeding ground.
Their food consists entirely of the seeds, and a spot once chosen by them is seldom forsaken until all in this line has been eaten.
The buntings will be found in flocks of from a dozen to two hundred, and in some even more. Their appearance when flying is pure white, but the upper parts of a specimen in the hand will be found mostly black. They are extremely shy, and when approached spring into the air and dart away in a manner that would indicate their intention of departing for the next county; but should you return that way in the course of half an hour, you will, in all probability, find them in the same place.
The shore larks, although feeding on the same grounds, seldom mix with the buntings, preferring to keep in flocks by themselves, and are worthy of attention, inasmuch as they have one marked peculiarity; this is the small tuft of feathers on each side of the head, resembling minute horns, which are raised and lowered at pleasure. (See cut.)
The majority of these birds reach us at the approach of cold weather, although a few spend the summer here and rear their young. They are less timid than the snow bunting, and may often be approached quite close.
These two species form about all the attraction to be found to any extent in the fields, and, aside from an occasional hawk, only one more species frequents them, a species that is worth going miles to see—the snowy owl.
These birds reach us about the last of November and remain until the last of February, frequenting the neighborhood of some body of water, and seldom straying from it more than a mile or two. To see them and become at all acquainted with their habits, one must face all kinds of weather, possess untiring energy, and must undergo a considerable amount of fatigue. He will find them in the open country (as they frequent such ground altogether, seldom, if ever, entering the woods), perched on some fence post or stump, where, if undisturbed, they will remain for a considerable length of time, intently watching for mice, of which their food largely consists, set off by an occasional rabbit. They are extremely rare. One may tramp the fields for several days without success, and then again find one the first hour out.
On December 20, 1886, the writer started on a trip to Oneida Lake, N. Y., intending to devote his attention entirely to these birds; was gone four days, and saw five birds. This, of course, was exceptional, but shows what may happen.