Not to be familiar with this species, which country folk usually club the Crow Blackbird, would argue an amount of ignorance and stupidity, hardly excusable. We doubt whether there is a single boy, who is old enough to exercise his observing faculties, that has not had his attention called to these creatures—their strange manoeuvres and shrill cries—as they cast their shadows across his path, or noisily perch high-up in the trees that shelter his father's roof in the sweet springtime. Of course there are localities where these birds do not abound. But throughout the extended range of the species, it seems to be well known, and by some is nearly as severely persecuted as its very near cousin—the Common Crow—which it strongly resembles. It is a denizen of the eastern parts of North America, from the Gulf coast on the south to Labrador, Hudson's Bay and the Saskatchewan. On the west, the Rockies intercept its progress, and form an insuperable barrier. Various writers have accredited it to California, but the evidence rests on an insufficient basis.
In the lower counties of Virginia, Georgia and the Carolinas, immense armies of the birds, running up into the thousands, pass the winter. From these quarters they take up the line of flight when the weather warrants, and spread themselves over the country, reaching the Middle States about the fifteenth of March, the New England a fortnight later, and the Northwest on or about the same time. So strongly are they attached to the old haunts that, when once arrived, they endure the greatest inconvenience of weather and hunger, rather than desert them. We have known them to appear in the midst of a violent snow-storm, although somewhat disconcerted however, but apparently as jolly as when fair weather prevails. The snow has little dread for them, but if long-standing, often puts them to the direst extremity so far as food is concerned. But they manage to live through the ordeal, some at least, and carry out their nature-appointed projects.
Seldom do we observe in our Northern States very large flocks of these birds during the vernal migration, but loose, scattered parties of a hundred, or less. Upon arrival they keep aloof from wooded regions, and manifest a predilection for ploughed fields and meadows, where they destroy large quantities of worms and beetles. Few species are more hated by the farmer. This hatred is to be attributed to the injuries which it commits. When the corn has been planted, it visits the fields in great numbers, and makes terrible havoc with the hardly germinated grains. It does not stop here. The tender blades themselves, as soon as they have sought the light, are seized by the caitiffs, for the treasures which they hold concealed in the earth. The grains are detached, and the blades are scattered to the winds. So fond of this diet are these birds, that they defy the efforts of the husbandman to check their devastations. Ingenious, devices in the guise of scare-crows, and even the shot-gun, have no fears for them. Driven from one section of the field, they instantly seek another remote from danger, and ply their nefarious occupation with remarkable industry. When in ear, invested with its close-fitting wrapper of husks, the corn is not then safe, for the birds strip off the cover with the bill, and extract it from the cob. At first these attacks are made with great caution, but love of appetite soon triumphs-over fear and every other feeling, and a spirit of reckless boldness succeeds. In the Southern States, in the winter, they visit the corn-crib in swarms, and coolly peck the partially dried grains from the cobs through the air-openings along its sides. When denied such luxuries, they collect in the woods, and feed upon the mast of the beech and the fruit of the oak. While condemned as a nuisance and a pest to agricultural industry, on account of these repeated devastations, they are possessed of many good qualities which should commend them to public favor. For a long time after their arrival their fare consists entirely of grub-worms, and other injurious insects, which they pick up from the loosened soil, or search for in their hidden retreats. So persistently do they glean, that they do not hesitate to scratch the soil aside with their feet. What would be the fate of the corn if the grubworm were allowed to run riot, we do not presume to say. But when we come to consider the thousands of these creatures that are annually destroyed by the Grackles, we question whether the destruction and waste perpetrated by the birds would be one-half as great as the insidious worms would have wrought had they been permitted to carry on their work unchecked. Our experience has been that the benefits derived from these birds largely outweigh the mischief which they commit.
When disturbed in the midst of its pillaging, the Grackle is known to emit a harsh, unmusical sound, expressive of anger and vexation, which may be aptly likened to thïc-kè-yâh, slowly repeated and at rather long intervals. Impatience may be denoted by the dissyllable të-oo pronounced as a sharp whistle. The ordinary call-note, which may be heard by an individual that has lost sight of his companions, or when one bird wishes to call the attention of the flock to something that is then transpiring, is a simple tchuck. Among the variety of its natural notes, there is often heard a somewhat strange and affected sibillation, which Nuttall compares to that of the Starling. This sound, which resembles the word wôttïtshee, twice repeated, is often accompanied by a peculiar whistle. Strictly speaking, these birds may be considered as songless.
In some instances, when we are favored with an early spring, the Grackles have been known to visit us during the first week of March, and to commence nesting about the fifteenth of the month, but then only in sheltered localities on the south slopes of hills. On the branches of coniferous trees they are then accustomed to place their nests. Usually but a single brood is annually raised, but when mating commences early, a second brood has been known to appear early in July. Nidification, however, ordinarily commences from the twentieth to the twenty-eighth of April-This is always preceded by a brief period of courtship. When the sexes are prepared to enter upon the new relation, the event is always announced by the loud and almost deafening clamor which the birds emit while circling in endless confusion above the roosting-tree. This usually occurs in the early morning, when they have shaken off the toils of sleep, and in the evening twilight before seeking rest. In the middle of the day comparative silence prevails. But when the weather is cloudy the noise and turmoil are kept up for nearly the entire day. They all seem to be in a perfect furore of excitement, and, to the inexperienced person, a crowd of angry and infuriated birds. This scene is enacted every day for nearly a week, when the tumultuous rabble, so to speak, dissolves into pairs, and silence reigns once more.
Where suitable trees exist, a preference being manifested for those of the pine family, as many as fifty nests are often to be seen in the same clump. My son, Alan F. Gentry, actually took three nests from one tree, all within a few feet of each other, besides one nest of the Robin, and another of the Dove. This shows the social character of the species, as well as the friendship which it evinces towards others. Individual cases have been met with where birds have manifested selfish dispositions, as shown by their preference for solitary situations, and their desire to dwell alone. Where the birds live together in communities the utmost good-will everywhere abounds. The very wicked character which is attributed to the Grackles, has been imputed to the whole species, on account of the mean behavior of some of its members. Like the Common Crow, some of these fellows show great fondness for birds' eggs and tender fledglings, many of which, especially those of the Robin, are heartlessly destroyed. Coward-like, these villainous wretches lurk in the vicinity of the home they wish to pillage, until its occupants are safe out of sight, when they pounce upon it with great speed, seize an egg or a young bird, and beat a precipitate retreat. But wary and vigilant as they generally are, they are sometimes caught in the act, and forced to seek safety in flight from the impetuous attacks of the enraged owners. We have been aware of this fondness for eggs for many years, but the carnivorous propensity which is doubtless the outgrowth of the other, has been observed by us frequently since 1876. Where the birds dwell together in well-regulated societies, there is no desire to interfere with their neighbors of different family-connections who choose to take up their abodes within their territory. These assaults are always made by their less social brethren whose selfish propensities lead them to pass comparatively isolated lives.
In the selection of a nesting-tree very little time is wasted, the birds mostly visiting the same neighborhood year after year where not interfered with. The building of a home is a labor of more moment, and generally requires the united efforts of both sexes for a period of six days. The birds are diligent mechanics, and confine their operations to certain hours of the day, chiefly in the cool of the morning and late in the afternoon. The process of building being remarkably slow, the materials have time to dry out in a great measure when the female is ready to lay. Where the materials are somewhat free from mud, which sometimes happens, opposition commences on the day following the completion of the structure. Otherwise three or four days necessarily elapse before this business is assumed. The eggs are laid one at a time on each consecutive day. Incubation immediately follows, and is the sole work of the female for sixteen days. The male contributes his part to the success of the wearisome undertaking by providing her with nourishment. At other times, he is in the immediate neighborhood, and warns her of danger. Should the nest be approached, the female glides out of it, and seeks, with the assistance of her partner, by loud clamors and angry gestures, to drive the intruder away. So venturesome do they become, that they have been seen to fly close to the head of an assailant, as though with fury-darting eyes and wide-open jaws they intended to resent the insult. Where the offender has been one in feathered dress, we have known several pairs to come to the assistance of their besieged friends, when the utmost confusion and excitement would prevail. Such is the bravery often displayed, in encounters with human foes, that victory has often crowned the efforts of the birds.
In some sections of the country these birds are said to nest in low bushes, but we have invariably found them in tall trees, at heights varying from fifty to sixty feet. In the second volume of the "American Naturalist," a nest is described by a writer residing in Newark, N. J., which was built inside the spire of a church, and also another which was placed in a martin-house from which the lawful owners had been expelled. Wilson tells us that in his day it was quite a common occurrence for these birds to nidificate in the interstices of the nests of the Fish Hawk, when the latter builds in localities which they frequent. Several pairs are said to occupy at the same time one of these structures, and the most perfect harmony to exist between them and their royal cousin. Audubon claims to have found nests of the Grackle in hollow trees, which has also been the experience of William Brewster, Esq., in Northern Maine, but it is highly probable that these accounts refer to the Bronzed Grackle.
The nest is usually placed in a crotch close to the main axis of the tree in which it is built, sometimes on a branch at some distance therefrom, and is held in situ by others. It is a bulky affair, irregular in shape, and has no claims to architectural beauty. It is coarsely but firmly built of twigs, dry plants and other substances, interwoven with strong stems of grasses which have been picked up from pools of mud, considerable quantities of which being still adherent. This mud renders them exceedingly weighty, and besides serving to keep them in position, also tends to agglutinate the elements of composition more compactly together. Internally, a few fine grasses are found, which make a rather cosy chamber. The external diameter measures seven inches, and the height about six, while the cavity, which is very shallow considering the size of the birds, is four inches in width, and but two in depth.
When the eggs are hatched the event is hailed with demonstrations of joy, and the parents watch over their helpless charges with more than ordinary solicitude. Such vigorous feeders are they, that both the male and the female are frequently compelled to be absent from the nest simultaneously in the procurement of food. Grubs, earthworms, caterpillars, and berries of various kinds, form a considerable part of their diet. It is only when the birds dwell in communities that both sexes are absent together. Where the pairs dwell singly, the one sex alternates with the other. When sixteen days old the young quit the nest, but are still cared for by the parents for an additional period of ten days, when they are forced to seek their own livelihood. Both young and old continue together in the old haunts until the close of September, or the advent of October, when the changes which are everywhere visible throughout the domain of Nature, warn them that it is time to take their departure for milder regions. Accordingly, the small flocks which are everywhere to be seen, gather into larger ones, and, as by a given signal, with many an expression of sorrow and regret, wend their way leisurely southward. Arriving in their winter-homes, these bodies do not immediately break up into smaller parties, but maintain themselves intact. How long they thus continue, we are unable to say. Wilson met with one of these vast armies on the banks of the Roanoke River, on the twentieth of January. When surprised it rose from the surrounding fields with a noise like thunder, and when settled down upon the road and fences, which they literally covered, gave everything the appearance of being invested with a mantle of black; and when they again rose and descended upon the skirts of high-timbered thickets whole trees from their summits to the lowermost branches seemed draped as with mourning, while their notes and screaming resounded like the far-off murmurings of a huge cataract, but with a more musical cadence. In the autumn, according to some authorities, and also at the approach of winter, numerous flocks, which have been foraging in the distance during the day, may be seen returning to their homes in the reeds to roost. As each detachment nears its station, in straggling, scattering groups, it is observed to sweep round the marsh in circling flight, until the note of the leader, who has been sent to reconnoitre the ground, is heard, when they all descend and take their stations.
In the drawing beautiful and accurate representations of these Grackles appear. The male is readily identified, and may be known by the intense warmth of his bronzy, purplish or violet dress. This iridescence is variable, and seems dependent upon age, season and other circumstances. The female is blackish-brown, and sometimes quite lustrous. The bill, tarsi and toes are pure black, and the iris sulphur-yellow. The male differs from his partner in size, being from twelve to thirteen inches in length, while the latter ranges from eleven to twelve. In dimensions of wing and tail there are also perceptible differences, the former averaging five and two-thirds inches, and the latter five and one-third in the male. The young is entirely of a uniform slaty-brown color, with absence of gloss.
The eggs of this species are variable in number. Nests with four, five and six eggs have been found, but most generally the two former. The ground is also subject to changes, specimens being seen with a deep rusty-brown color, and others with one of light greenish-white. It is a rare occurrence to meet with the two forms in the same nest-full; the latter being the predominant hue. Eggs with the brown background have in addition to the black and dark-brown streaks and dashes which cover the other type, chiefly about the larger extremity, a number of confluent, cloudy blotches of deeper shades of the same color. These markings are singularly grotesque in their pattern, and often bear strong resemblances to letters, figures and other characters. In measurement, eggs from the same locality, and even from the same clutch, show considerable differences. In New England specimens are sometimes obtained which measure 1.30 by .88, and others 1.18 by .84 of an inch. Brewer gives the average size as 1.25 by .90. Specimens from Eastern Pennsylvania offer as much variableness. A clutch before us shows the following dimensions: 1.18 by .86, 1.15 by .87, 1.15 by .87, 1.13 by .88 and 1.12 by .84. Other specimens from the same locality average 1.24 by .90. The Purple Grackle is quite easily tamed, and when confined to the cage utters its brief stock of notes with great freedom. It has also been taught to articulate certain words with considerable distinctness.
The range of the American Goldfinch is nearly co-extensive with the vast continent of North America. Its range seems to he, in a great measure, determined by the presence of the cottonwood, willow and the various compositaceous plants upon the seeds of which it largely depends for a living. From the Atlantic to the Pacific it is found, and northward from the Mexic borders to the fur countries of the British possessions. It is abundant both in Texas and the Indian Territory, but in the vicinity of Vera Cruz it seems to be a stranger, as no mention is made of it by Sumichrast. Dr. Newberry encountered it while passing through the inland portions of Oregon and California, remote from civilized life, and Dr. Cooper on the Columbia, and in maritime situations in close proximity to its mouth. Dr. Suckley was unable to find it about Puget Sound, although at infinite pains to discover its presence. Dr. Coues failed to meet with it in Arizona, and Mr. Ridgway was surprised at the notable scarcity of it in Central California. For the hot interior valleys of this State, as well as the cooler mountain ranges, it seems to affect great dislike, although it was observed by Ridgway to be nesting in the Uintah Mountains.
Generally, where it is found at all, it exists in great abundance. In some portions of its habitat it is not a permanent resident, but migrates southward with the approach of cold weather, only to resume its northern journey again with the recurrence of another spring. In British America it is a late summer visitor, and departs early in September. It is a migrant in the northern parts of New England, and the same may be true of places situated in corresponding latitudes, while in the southern districts it remains through the entire year. In Eastern Pennsylvania, if the weather be not extremely severe, paired individuals, and even flocks of a half-dozen or more, may be met with in sheltered localities. In early autumn larger bodies of birds are met with, and the same is true in April, when there is an increased supply of food. When the ground is covered with snow, and the trees laden with ice and sleet, they lead very nomadic lives, and are often compelled to seek the habitations of man where they freely mingle with the Snowbirds and Sparrows, to receive their share of refuse from the kitchen. They now become exceedingly tame, and can be approached without difficulty. While partaking of our hospitalities, this Finch disdains not its natural food. It will lay siege to a honeysuckle, if in fruit, and gorge itself to satiety—a berry for which it manifests great fondness. The seeds of the radish, and of the various species of amaranths and pigweeds that grow in our midst, are also sought after, and devoured in vast numbers. In woods various species of coniferous seeds, the mast of the black beech, and the seeds of grasses form an important part of its diet. When the red maples are in blossom, dozens of these birds will settle down in the trees, and feast for hours upon the tender stamens and pistils, and the small insects which are attracted thither. As the season advances, and the apple and cherry come into bloom, the same fate awaits them. To the gardener they are sources of annoyance. They visit the garden when the soil has been broken, apparently for the writhing, scampering beings unearthed, but avowedly for the freshly-sown, delicious salad-seeds, every grain of which they pilfer, unless driven away by force. Later on they revel in high life, for the dandelion, thistles and sunflowers have perfected their fruits. Although chiefly a granivorous species, the Goldfinch does not subsist entirely upon seeds, but destroys vast numbers of insects in all their different stages. Various measuring-worms, diptera, ants and plant-lice are destroyed, which, doubtless, largely-outweigh the mischief which they commit.
Late in April the large flocks dissolve into smaller ones. It is a common thing to see two males and one female in company, the former lavishing the most endearing attentions upon the latter, and both, simultaneously, regaling her with the sweetest music. Thus affairs go on for some time, when, out of pure mischief, she selects one of the suitors, and just as he begins to feel his bosom glow with self-satisfied pride, she turns her back upon him, and flies to the other, who all the while has been pouring his soul away in the ecstasies of song. These cruel flirtations are kept up for a couple of days before a final choice is effected. It seems to require great effort and condescension upon the part of the successful suitor to retain his hold upon her affections; for she is likely to waver in the interval of time between mating and nidification, and give her heart to another. The labors of nest-building so completely engross her thoughts, that the tendency to flirtation has not time to manifest itself, and soon disappears altogether.
The wedded couple, however, do not seem to be in much haste about nesting, but ramble over the country in search of food, ever and anon, as though seeking rest from labor, perching upon a tree-branch, where the male pours into the ear of his less-favored partner, with all the impassioned eloquence of his being, the story of his love. While thus engaged, he is wont to turn towards the object of his affection, as if to ascertain the effects of his well-chosen roundelay. A low, soft note, expressed by the dissyllabic word twë-yah, is her only response of recognition and approval. The song of the male is very difficult to convey in human language. It is loud and clear in intonation, and rivals the variously modulated strains of the Canary. Like the latter he has the faculty of lowering and raising the voice, so that one moment the notes seem borne from a great distance on the wings of gently-murmuring zephyrs, while the very next they ring out upon the air with tenfold greater volume of tone and intensity. In confinement he becomes exceedingly familiar and tractable, and with proper care soon becomes a valuable singer. A friend of ours once possessed a male which he reared from the nest.
This bird was taught to keep time with the lateral movements of the index finger, and to increase and decrease the volume of sound with the elevation and depression of the same. In a state of repose a simple twe, uttered softly and slowly at measured intervals, is its only note. While pillaging the garden these birds give expression to sounds which Nuttall has likened to 'mày-bê, 'mây-bê. In their quarrels, which commonly occur when small parties are on the wing, there is heard one loud, confused medley of discordant chirpings, which seems, as a recent writer once remarked, as though some were pleading for peace, while the others were clamorous for the fray.
About the fifteenth of June, sometimes as early as the middle of the preceding month, the birds settle down to the business which has brought them together. Some time is spent in the selection of a suitable tree, and in fixing upon a position. One tree after another is visited, before one is found which combines the requisites of shelter, security and convenience. When the birds make up their minds to build in an orchard, a pear-tree is usually their choice. In other situations a seeming preference is manifested for the maple and willow. Perhaps, any tree where numerous small branches radiate, nearly in the same circle, from a common stem, will be found to be available. The height of the nest above the ground is usually about fifteen feet. Occasionally, greater elevations are taken. Sometimes a horizontal branch with divergent twigs is chosen, instead of one that is nearly vertical.
Than the nest of the Thistle Bird, as this species is sometimes called, no more beautiful structure of the basket in form and the felted in texture is known to exist. In shape it is symmetrical, delicately and neatly woven, and skilfully and securely fastened to the forked twigs between which it is placed. In beauty of design, and elegance of finish, it is a perfect model of architectural skill. A structure before us from Philadelphia may be considered as typical. It is placed in a crotch, and held in situ by four small nearly upright branches, which are partially wrought into the fabric. The outside is composed of the tassels of the common chestnut, stems of knotweed, leaves, fragments of fungus, interwoven with an excess of flax-like fabrics and vegetable wool. The inside is lined with divers shreds of dandelion and thistle, neatly and compactly felted. The external diameter and height are each two and a half inches, and the cavity two at the rim and the same in depth.
A nest from Union County, Pa., nearly two hundred miles distant from the former locality, varies materially in size and in the character of composing materials. When found it was placed between two horizontal twigs joined at right angles to another, to which it was firmly attached by hempen fibres. On the right of the nest further security was afforded by a vertical twig, to which it was bound by similar cords. Fine roots of grasses, spiders' webs, cotton string, twisted and untwisted yellowish hempen cords, nicely and evenly felted, constituted the exterior. Within there was a lining of yellow rootlets and white horse-hairs, the latter in excess. The nest is hemispherical, and measures three inches in width, and the same in height. The cavity is two inches in diameter and of equal depth. This nest was discovered about the fifteenth of August, and contained a brood of tender fledglings.
Another fabric is somewhat exceptional in position. It rests upon a horizontal limb, and is still further supported by three inclined twigs on the one side, to which it is fastened by strings and the ravellings of colored cottony fabrics. The exterior is made of raw cotton, animal wool, hempen strings, vegetable fibres, rootlets of grasses, rather ingeniously interwoven. Interiorly there is a strange commingling of wool and horsehairs. The bottom of the cavity is hardly covered, the twig which forms the basis of the structure being clearly discernible. in external diameter it measures two and a half inches, and in depth but two; the width and depth of the cavity are identical, being about one and three-fourths inches.
In New England, according to Samuels, the nest of this species is built of soft strips of the cedar and grape-vine bark, which are elaborately woven into a compact structure around a deep hollow, which is softly lined with the down of thistles, and, occasionally, with a few feathers.
After the completion of the nest, which ordinarily requires the united efforts of both birds for six days to accomplish, the female, on the following day, begins to deposit her eggs. These to the number of five are laid at the rate of one a day. Incubation commences on the day subsequent to the last deposit, and lasts for ten days. This duty devolves exclusively upon the female. The only part which the male performs is the indirect one of providing his companion with suitable nourishment. When not thus engaged he cheers the tedium of her task by an agreeable ditty. By some writers he is considered more of a dandy than a family man, as he spends the greater portion of his time with his fellows in the pursuit of food, in the arrangement of his toilet, or in the pleasures of the bath. Our experience is different. While he takes no direct part in the incubating process, his affection for his mate, and his constant desire to please her, prove him to be, in every sense, a model companion. When their home is assailed, he does not sneak away, and allow his partner to bear the brunt of the battle to be waged in its defence, but comes boldly to the front, and with loud clamors, angry gesticulations, and wide open jaws, unites with her to expel the intruder. Where frequent interferences occur, the birds are often forced to forsake their nest, and seek other quarters. This perhaps will account for the fact that nests with eggs are sometimes found as late as the fifteenth of July, and others with young birds during the last week of August. Such delays are doubtless of common occurrence.
The destruction of a nest while incubation is progressing, most generally leads to the renewal of the attempt in some other place. The desire for offspring will often be found to triumph over the most insuperable difficulties. We have known instances where the same pair had been thwarted four times in succession, and as often renewed the attempt. An unfortunate male or female may sometimes be doomed to lead the life of a celibate, by reason of the scarcity of individuals of the opposite sex. Perhaps an event has occurred which has altered the status of affairs. A male has died, and his partner is compelled to break up house-keeping, or seek another. If she does the latter, her companion may be a widower, or one that has been unable to enter into matrimonial relations for the reasons already assigned. Not willing to father the responsibilities of another, the old home, and its once precious charges if there be any, must be abandoned, and another domicile constructed and peopled. The mating being effected, a suitable spot chosen, a home prepared, and the subsequent duties of oviposition and incubation successfully passed through, all of which requiring time, it is not remarkable that nests should be found so late in the season.
Coming back from this necessary digression, the young are from eleven to twelve days old when they leave the nest. The addition of a week or ten days to this period finds them sufficiently matured to attend to their own wants. At first they are fed by the parents upon various soft-bodied insects, which they glean from the branches and foliage of trees, but later on, butterflies and various species of andrena and halictus are brought to them. When able to provide for themselves, they consort with their parents, and subsist with them on various kinds of seeds and berries.
The young do not acquire their full plumage until the following spring. Their characteristic dress in the fall nearly resembles that of the adult female. It is reddish-olive above, and fulvous-yellow below. Across the coverts there are to be seen two broad bands, and broad edges of pale rufus to the last half of the secondaries. The female is yellowish-gray above, greenish-yellow below, and is devoid of the black on the forehead. The adult male has a bright gamboge-yellow dress, which is in a great measure relieved of its sameness by the black crown, wings and tail. A still further variegation is noticeable in the lesser wing-coverts, lower edges of the greater ones, ends of secondaries and tertiaries, inner margins of tail-feathers, upper and lower tail-coverts, and tibia, which are white. In the winter a yellowish-brown color replaces the yellow, the wings and tail become browner, and the black of the crown is lacking. The under parts take on an ashy-brown hue, which passes into white behind, and yellowish along the throat. The entire length of the mature birds is five and a quarter inches, while that of the wing is three.
The eggs of this species, when fresh, are white, with a slight roseate tinge. In blown specimens they show a faint bluish hue. Their nearest counterparts are Lawrence's Goldfinch, from which they are scarcely distinguishable. They are usually four in number, although five sometimes occur, and in shape are oval. Their dimensions vary even in the same nest-full. Specimens from New England vary from .68 by .53 to .63 by 50 inches. Others from California measure .60 by 50. Pennsylvania eggs have an average measurement of .66 by .53. Considerable diversity of opinion exists as to the number of broods annually raised. Nuttall alleges that they raise two, but seems to base his assertion upon the fact that nests are found from the first of July to the middle of September, which in our estimation is wholly accounted for by explanations given above. The mass of writers, however, differ from him, and believe the species to raise but a single brood annually. In Pennsylvania and New Jersey, we can safely say that not a single case has occurred to us of double-broodedness.
It may be thought strange that these birds should, as a rule, be so dilatory in their movements, so far as the assumption of matrimonial relations is concerned, being even behind the generality of our Warblers, which are not so well-adapted to the climate as they An explanation of the matter has been attempted by Dr. Brewer. He seems to think that the cause is attributable to the scarcity of proper aliment for the young in early summer. The greater abundance of insects found in July, especially in their larval stages, which must necessarily constitute a fair percentage of their diet at first, would seem to contradict such a statement. Our experience goes to show that more nests with young birds are found from the middle of June to about the tenth of July than at any subsequent period, just at the time when insect life riots in luxuriance.
Contemned by man, and characterized by the most inappropriate and disgusting nickname, with which almost every one who is conversant with the species must be familiar, our subject asks nothing at the hands of humankind, but rather avoids cultivated scenes, and seems to thrive best where civilization has neither sown nor reaped. Within the precincts of grassy pools and almost impenetrable morasses, where dangerous odors exhale, and myriads of slimy creatures drag their slow lengths along, or startle the shades of night with their bass murmuring? the Green Heron delights to dwell. Here he pursues his craft in the society of his friends and near relatives.
Early in April the birds reach the Middle Atlantic States, from their Southern marshy homes, and soon afterwards are found in New England, and other portions to the westward. Their limit in this direction is somewhat circumscribed. The silence of writers upon the subject conduces to the inference that they are not found west of the Rocky Mountains, and the absence of mention by the parties connected with the different government expeditions, shows that they are not to be met with in regions which they visited. In the extreme southern and eastern parts of the region of the Missouri, however, they are to be met with. McIlwraith observed them in Canada West; and in the West Indies, Mexico, and from Central America to Venezuela, they are known to abound. They are mentioned by Gosse in his explorations, and Cory saw them in abundance, during the breeding-season, in the Bahamas. It is possible that many of these denizens of tropical countries migrate to the United States, and associate with their northern brethren that winter in our Southern States, and even pursue their journey to colder latitudes.
For nearly a month after its arrival the Heron is a solitary feeder, and seems to care for naught but the gratification of appetite. Knee-deep in some small stagnant stream or pool, or in the midst of sylvan glade or reedy marsh, he may be seen awaiting his prey. His movements are characterized by remarkable artfulness and skill. The extreme caution evinced by the game he seeks, and its facility to elude pursuit, presuppose the possession of a nicety of address, and of celerity of action. When on the lookout for minnows, and other small fish, he takes up his position by the side of the ditch, and with his long-reaching neck contracted over his breast, prepared for duty, he waits, in statue-like repose, the appearance thereof. The keen, flashing eye bespeaks the anxiety reigning within. He has not long to watch. Soon a luckless little fellow approaches the bank cautiously, when, with one stroke of the bill, as unerring and sudden as that of the blow of a rattlesnake, he is transfixed, and ere he has time to contemplate the condition of affairs, is swallowed entire. Worms, aquatic larvæ and small crabs are eagerly hunted, and captured with wonderful adroitness. It is, however, when in quest of frogs, that he displays the exceeding cunning of which he is capable. These subtle, wary creatures are difficult to surprise, and plunge into the water and mire on the slightest noise or alarm. A few moments elapse before they are sufficiently assured to venture to the surface again, but when they are, the movement is always performed with great caution and circumspection. While the frog is recovering from its fright, the Heron is laying his plans on the oozy flat above. Fixing his penetrating gaze upon the spot where his game disappeared, he steals slowly forward, and patiently awaits the first appearance of the bronzy head, at the sight of which, with almost lightning-like movement, he deals the unfortunate blow; the squirming, wriggling mass of matter is jerked from its watery bath, only to be dashed to death upon stones, and eaten at leisure.
The life of the Heron is not the dull, prosy, slavish one which many writers have pictured, as it is always attended with a certain amount of excitement which gives spice and zest thereto. The abundance of reptilian and other life to be found in places which these birds visit, and the comparative ease with which it is seemingly obtained, render existence a pleasure rather than a burden. They are not the over-anxious, indigent race of beings which their general appearance would lead us to suspect. Living in the midst of plenty, although unsurrounded by green bowers and luscious viands, such as lure their apparently better favored brethren—the rich, gifted oscines—they are pleased with their lot, and doubtless would scorn to exchange it for others. Their lean, lank natures, as commonly supposed, have nothing whatever to do with the character of their surroundings, but are a wise and fitting illustration of the law of design which is everywhere to be seen in Nature.
Of all our Herons, this species displays the least shyness. When disturbed, it mounts upward with a hollow, guttural cry, but soon alights, cranes its neck, and if danger is not threatening, settles back into its usual quiescent state. Either while walking or standing, on such occasions, it is noticed to jet the tail, a habit which it indulges in at somewhat regular periods. In addition to the ordinary scream, other notes are emitted, which resemble the syllables 'k'w, 'k'w, 'k'w. These succeed the others so closely that they may be considered a part of the same call-note of alarm.
Many birds usher in the dawn of the matrimonial period with music. But such is not the case with the present species. To be sure there may be heard the same cries with which it is wont to greet intruding footsteps. The principal indications of its return may be noticed in the preference which the sexes have for each other, and in their endearing behavior. They no longer seek to dwell apart. A week at most is thus spent, when the friendship formed invariably ripens into the stronger feeling of love. This ordinarily happens from the twentieth of April to about the tenth of May. Having mated, the party start off in search of a swampy woods, where, among the branches of some tree, they place their rude domicile.
Some live apart, but the rule is to dwell in companies. It is common to find them and the Night Heron living together on friendly terms.
The nest is entirely built of sticks, with finer ones on the inside, is the work of both birds, and occupies but a short time in building, usually not more than two days. The eggs are deposited at the rate of one a day, chiefly on consecutive days. Incubation commences shortly after the eggs are laid, and is mainly the result of the female, who, for nearly eighteen days, is a very assiduous sitter. While she is thus occupied the male is a faithful guardian and protector. He administers to her his choicest captures, and warns her of coming danger. When the nest is molested both birds hover near the tree, but beyond the reach of danger, and by the most deafening screams, seek to drive away the assailant, but they never venture upon an attack. If the nest has been despoiled, they immediately set to work to repair it; or, if rifled of its treasures, do not long bewail the loss, but proceed to replenish it. Like most of its family, this species places the nest high up in tall trees, although instances have occurred where they were not more than twenty feet from the ground. The young birds are carefully attended and fed by the parents, and do not leave the nest until they are able to fly, which is the case when they are from four to five weeks old. Their food consists at first of worms, larvæ of dragon-flies and aquatic beetles. But as they increase in age, fresh-water crabs, lizards, frogs, grasshoppers, etc., are brought to them in large numbers. They do not mature until the next season. At first they have the head less crested than the adult. The back is devoid of the characteristic long plumes, but has the same glossy greenish color. The neck is simply reddish-brown, while the entire under parts have the white somewhat variegated with dark brown.
The eggs of these birds are from three to four in number, oblong-oval in form, and of a pale light-blue color. The largest egg in a set of four before us measures 1.55 inches in length, and 1.19 in width; the smallest 1.50 in length, and 1.13 in width. Throughout its entire range the species is single-brooded.
This abundant, beautiful and familiar bird is a resident of the eastern half of North America, from the Atlantic west to Kansas, Eastern Nebraska and Dakota, and from Florida and Texas on the south to the 56th parallel of north latitude. Wherever met with it breeds in greater or less numbers, according as its presence is welcomed or rejected by the imperious lords of creation, and food is readily or with difficulty obtained.
Few species show more striking peculiarities of conduct, and none scarcely exhibit as much sagacity and intelligence. Within its natural haunts it is exceedingly shy and suspicious, and is hardly approachable. Frequent intercourse with man, however, has, in some sections, modified its disposition, and, as a necessary consequence, confidence has taken the place of distrust. This is substantiated by its tendency to nest in places contiguous to the dwellings of man. In Eastern Pennsylvania, a decade ago, it was quite a common occurrence to find a score of birds nesting in a square mile of territory, but, at the present time, the collector considers himself very fortunate if he encounters one-fifth of this number within the same area, and these only in localities whose solitude is seldom unbroken by the tread of human footsteps. In the wooded regions of Iowa, Mr. Allen found this species quite as trustful as the Black-capped Titmouse, and in Illinois, reduced to a semi-domesticated condition. Within the former State a pair of birds were found nidificating under the window of a house, in a lilac-bush, and this, too, in one of the most prominent and frequented streets of the town of Richmond.
A curious behavior marks the species' first acquaintance with human society. The movements of man are followed with noteworthy pertinacity, the slightest action being carefully scanned, but our feathered friend never ventures too near at first. After frequent interviews at a wary distance, if undisturbed, he gradually approaches nearer and nearer, and in time comes to regard him with kindly favor. Sometimes these advances are received with coldness, and the most bitter persecutions occur. When such is the case, the Jay takes a dislike to man, and shuns his society. In his rural retreats this bird is the enemy of the hunter, and often provokes his ire and vengeance by its tantalizing behavior. When he is in pursuit of game, it takes great delight in following him, and, by its seemingly distressing cries, seeks to warn its feathered neighbors of approaching danger.
Though occasionally found within cultivated regions, yet these birds affect the shelter of dense forests, where they can pursue their craft with undismayed tranquillity. It is in such quarters that they are mostly to be seen in winter, searching for the eggs of insects. When there is a scarcity of such diet, the fruits of the oak, beech, birch and pine are hunted and devoured. Large numbers of beetles, some terrestrial in habits, also contribute largely to their sustenance. With the return of spring, insect life is more rife, and we find them feeding upon grasshoppers and caterpillars of every description. Like the Crow, the Jay is pre-eminently omnivorous, although preferring animal to vegetable matters. In the gratification of its appetite for the former, it is led to destroy the eggs and young of smaller birds, and even to kill those that are full-grown. Such merciless conduct detracts from its general good character, and often conduces to its destruction. But the good which it accomplishes, as evidenced above, outweighs in tenfold proportion the mischief committed, and should encourage us to desist from our persecutions, and accord to it a generous welcome. Its depredations upon the garden and farm are so trivial, that they do not warrant the abuse which thoughtless farmers are wont to lavish upon these feathered benefactors. To favor our readers with some idea of the good which has been accomplished in some portions of the country, we cannot do better than give the substance of Dr. Kirtland's estimate of its character, as given by Dr. Brewer. When the former gentleman first settled upon his farm he observed that every wild cherry and apple tree was well-nigh denuded of its leaves by the tent-caterpillar. The evil was so widespread that all efforts to counteract it seemed hopeless. At this crisis the Jays made their appearance and established colonies. The caterpillar constituted a ready diet for their young, and was preyed upon so extensively, that in a short time, not one was seen in the neighborhood.
Whilst feeding, the Jay is both silent and vigilant, save when disturbed, when he signifies his discontent by a harsh, petulant cry, which sounds like djay, jay, jay. In his more complaisant humor, he is by no means an unmusical fellow, but gives expression to a series of vocal sounds which for variety beauty and harmony are truely creditable, and, as Nutall happily notes are by no means unpleasant, and fall in harmoniously with the cadence of the feathered choristers around him, so as to form a finishing part to the general music of the grove. Wilson likens him, among singing-birds, to the trumpeter of the band. His notes are anything but monotonous. At one time he screams with all his power as if actuated by some terrible impulse, and, almost the next instant, greets you with notes as soft and pensive as those of the Bluebird, but to be only followed by others that fairly shock the ear with their unutterable harshness. The latter have been observed to resemble the syllables whèèo-whèèo-wieeo, but the sweet bell-like note almost baffles the powers of description His powers of mimicry, though different from those of the Mocking-bird can hardly excelled by that species. The cries of the Sparrow Hawk are imitated with great pleasure, and so accurately does he mimic the harsh screams of the Red-shouldered and Red-tailed Hawks, that the smaller birds seek their coverts in dismay, and the poultry are thrown into the greatest consternation. When reared from the nest these birds make interesting pets, and in due time learn to simulate every sound they hear not even excepting those of the human voice. A case is cited by Wilson of an individual that had been raised by a South Carolinian, which evinced remarkable intelligence, and which possessed nearly the loquacity of some of the Parrots. It could pronounce several words with remarkable distinctness, and when called, would respond to its name in quite a sociable manner. By fanciers the Jay is esteemed the most ingenious, artful and teachable bird with which they have met.
A peculiarity of the species, deserving mention, is the habit of the sexes to go together during the winter, showing that some kind of attachment exists, even at the period when many birds, not gregarious, find it most to their interest to lead solitary lives. This disposition to go in pairs may be the beginning of a tendency to gregariousness, such as prevails among some of its near cousins, or it may be considered as the last vestige of a habit that was once predominant. Cases have been observed where the sexes dwelt apart, which leads to the suspicion that the species is surely and inevitably gravitating towards such a state. In the season of cold and scarcity, when most of our resident birds are too much concerned with the procurement of food to permit the social relations to have a moment's sway, the life of a celibate seems to be more fitting, and in very many cases is one of preference. While these birds thus continue to keep together, possibly through force of long-established habit, yet they do not manifest the slightest tendency to matrimony, until Nature has sufficiently recovered from torpor to insure a living for their offspring. Not very fastidious in appetite, and easy to please, almost any kind of insect diet answers. Consequently, with the early dawning of April, but never later than the fifteenth of the month, a change comes over them. Less anxiety is manifested for food-matters, and more friendly relations established. The sexes consort together much, and after a few days of courtship, which business is seemingly unmarked by any great display of form, settle down to the prosy realities of life. Nidification is now entered into with commendable zeal. For this purpose a forest or orchard tree is generally chosen, although a low bush is sometimes made subservient. In retired localities a preference is shown for the pine. The selection of a site never consumes much time. With old birds it requires careful and diligent searching for a day or two, but in the ease of inexperienced individuals, the time may be protracted for nearly a week. Where permitted to rear their progeny unmolested, a strong attachment is shown for the same neighborhood, and instances occur where the same pair dwell and breed in some cherished haunt for several years in succession.
In the construction of a home both birds labor with the utmost diligence. They are usually about three days thus occupied, each bird taking an equal share in the task. The nest is anything but elaborate in its mechanism, and has little to recommend it in artistic design and beauty. It is a strong, coarse structure, placed upon a branch over a crotch, sometimes held in position by adjoining twigs, and is composed of sticks rudely and firmly interwoven. Inside there is usually a lining of dark fibrous roots. In proportions it is almost equal to the nest of the Purple Grackle.
The domicile being completed, on the following day, sometimes not so soon, the female begins to lay, at the rate of one egg a day, her complement of eggs. This is usually five, although nests have been found with six, and others more rarely with four. Incubation is closely attendant upon oviposition, and generally dates from the day following the last deposit. This business is the sole labor of the female for about seventeen days. While she is thus occupied the male encourages her by his presence, or when not foraging, guards the spot from intrusion. He is a very jealous husband, and will not permit any of the feathered denizens of the woods to approach, without resenting it in the most determined manner, and inflicting severe punishment. Human interference is greeted with loud and angry cries, and the infuriated bird is with difficulty beaten off.
In Texas, according to Dr. Lincecum, the nest is built of mud, a substance which is rarely utilized in more northern localities. In situations contiguous to houses, rags of calico, cotton thread, and other similar materials, form a very cosy and suitable lining. Such places are chosen on account of the protection against Hawks which they secure. A single brood is annually raised, and but four eggs constitute a setting. In the abdomen of a female which he dissected there were found one hundred and fifty ova, and from this and the preceding datum, he was led to the inference that the natural life of the Jay was thirty years.
When the young birds make their appearance they are welcomed with demonstrations of great joy by the parents. The latter manifest much solicitude for their safety, and attend to their demands with the most sedulous devotion. They watch over them with unwearying vigilance, and actually imperil their own lives when their helpless charges are in danger. Earthworms, caterpillars, moths of various kinds, beetles, grasshoppers, acorns, berries, etc., make a voluminous bill of fare, but they are always carefully chosen to suit the age and condition of life. Both birds are seldom absent together in search of food. When three weeks old, the young quit the nest, and a fortnight later, are able to gain their own living.
In the drawing we have delineated the appearances which the sexes present when they have attained their full dress. The female, which is shown considerably in the background, is duller than her lord and, in the natural state, is somewhat smaller. The mature male is purplish-gray below, with a tendency to whitening on the throat, belly and crissum. This is diversified by a black band across the lower throat, which is continued up the sides of the neck and head to a space behind the crest, and, also, by a black frontlet with a whitish border. The wings and tail are a rich blue, with bars of black. The greater wing-coverts, secondaries and tail feathers, the central excepted, are broadly tipped with unsullied white, and the tail is much rounded. The bill and feet are black, and the iris of the eye of a hazel color. The length is about twelve and a quarter inches, wing five and thirteen-twentieths, and tail five and three-quarters.
The eggs are rounded-oval in contour, obtuse, and pretty nearly equal at both extremities. They are brownish-olive on the ground, in most cases, although some specimens show a decided olive-drab color. A few darker olive-brown spots, however, relieve the monotony of the background. The average size is about 1.16 inches in length, and .85 in width. We have seen some that varied from 1.04 to 1.21 in length, and in breadth from .81 to .89 of an inch.