Birds of field, forest and park

Front matter

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BIRDS

or

Foreword

No man or woman of the coming generation can lay claim to a broad education who does not have at least a speaking acquaintance with the wild birds and animals of the country. Public sentiment will demand this.

We all know persons who are skilled in belles lettres, who know the languages of various peoples, and have wide familiarity with the history of what man has done; persons who have travelled much and acquired learning in the various fine arts, but who have no knowledge of the names or habits of any of the fourteen hundred kinds of wild birds found in North America. Their knowledge is replete as to the things man has done, but regarding the works of Nature they are ignorant. They know nothing of the soil formation; of the history of the rocks over which they walk. They cannot name the trees in whose shade they stand, and their ears are deaf to the songs of the birds that reach them from the fields and roads.

Such a person, if left alone in the country for a day without human companionship, or a book to read, is usually miserable until relief arrives. The wild life of the open means nothing to him.

Today, in every State of the Union, thousands of intelligent teachers are mingling with their daily tasks some instruction regarding the habits of wild birds and their value to mankind.

vi FOREWORD

Within the past ten years more bird books have been sold in the United States than during the entire previous history of this country. From Maine to California there is a great awakening to the fact that birds are of inestimable value to mankind and that their study is worthy to be placed alongside of those subjects which heretofore have so strongly claimed the attention of the educator.

When the men of today were schoolboys they were not taught bird study, and, in a way, are not to be blamed for their present ignorance of the subject. There were few laws in those days to protect birds. Today, within our boundaries, there is not a useful bird that has not had thrown about it the protecting arm of the law, and it is intensely important that children be given a knowledge of this fact and taught the reasons why these wild creatures should be protected and increased.

I believe this book has an extremely important mission. It will be read and studied by numberless readers, who from its pages will receive their first strong impressions of the beauty and value that come from an intimate knowledge of our wild bird life; and its author will have the blessed privilege of knowing that he has been responsible for starting many on the first step of that staircase that leads the student to the treasures in the vast storehouse of Nature.

T. Gilbert Pearson,

Secretary of the National Association of Audubon Societies,

Preface

The success of the little book "Birds Through the Year" in stimulating among its readers a desire to make the acquaintance in the open of the birds described therein, has prompted the author to prepare this somewhat more pretentious volume.

This is in no sense a treatise on the science of ornithology, but the effort is made to reproduce the atmosphere of the natural home of the bird in field, forest and park, by describing the conditions under which each variety is found, and their usual surroundings, as well as their habits, plumage, songs, etc. About one hundred and fifty varieties are thus described, including those most common in eastern North America. While the classification recognized by the American Ornithological Union has been followed, the Latin names have been avoided, as well as those purely technical terms that are unfamiliar to the layman.

The author's observations of bird life, covering a period of more than thirty years, have been made for the most part in his home state, Maine, in the region about New York City, New Jersey, the Catskill Mountains, and in the Southern States.

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Contents

CHAPTBB PAGE

Foreword v

Preface vii

Chapter I A BIRD'S YEAR

' I hear the wild geese honking From out the misty night, — A sound of moving armies On-sweeping in their might; The river ice is drifting Beneath their northward flight."

— Burroughs.

With the first sign of yielding on the part of grim winter there is a stir throughout all birdland. As spring comes on apace, up from the South moves the restless host and scatters over the entire northland until every field, forest and park has its quota of feathered tenants. So regular are the comings and goings of these messengers that they have been aptly termed the " mail carriers of the seasons." To one who has the love of Nature's melodies in his heart and whose eye is keen to appreciate her beauties, the advent in early March of the first Bluebird, Robin, or Song Sparrow is a very important event in the calendar. Not only does their coming mark the approaching end of the dreary season of cold and snow when life in the open is at its lowest ebb, but it announces in no uncertain tones the advent of spring with her many and varied attractions. Who does not feel a thrill of vernal joy when on some bleak and sunless day in March there comes to his eager ears the trumpet-like honk, honk, honk of wild geese as they make their hurried way across the leaden sky, bound north ? It is with keen admiration and a feeling akin to awe that one beholds the sudden appearance of these hardy forerunners of the migrating army; and one wonders at the strange instinct that prompts them to leave their comfortable quarters in the distant southland and start upon what seems to us a long and wearisome journey, whose goal is the frozen and forbidding north. In bird land life is a constant change, and the events of a year make a complete cycle. With those birds that migrate, the winter months are passed amid scenes which suit the individual taste of each variety; and to the migrant headed southward the choice of locality is surely a broad one. No doubt food habits play a very important part in the selection. To be sure of an adequate supply of their favorite food, the Flycatchers journey to the land where Jack Frost rarely, if ever, visits ; while seed and berry eaters may remain where the weather is much colder, the hardier varieties even in the land of snow and zero temperature. That hardy denizen of the north woods, the Ruffed Grouse, whose favorite food is the delicate buds of birch, maple and apple-tree, finds cold weather and deep snows little hindrance to his well-being; in fact, I have sometimes thought, when coming unexpectedly

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upon a Grouse in midwinter, that the severe weather adds strength to his sturdy wings.

During the winter months most migrants, often in loose bands made up of several varieties having similar feeding habits, lead a nomadic life, apparently care free except for the necessity, which they constantly face, of securing the daily food supply. So generously does bountiful Nature provide for her children this is not usually a difficult task. Birds do not have the instinct which many animals possess of storing food in excess of their immediate needs for use in winter, hence the daily quest; neither do they sleep the time away as do many animals.

Those birds that eat seeds and berries, as Robins, Bluebirds, Catbirds, Sparrows and Finches, find their winter food in our Southern States. The insect-eaters as a rule go farther south, below the frost line, to southern Florida, Mexico, Central and South America. Woodpeckers find the grubs they eat under the bark and in the wood of dead and decaying trees; so that their food problem does not necessitate migration. Sometimes Song and White-throated Sparrows and Myrtle Warblers find their winter food as far north as New York City. Then they do not migrate. In a clump of cedars just north of Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, where the catbrier and poison ivy form a dense tangle, I have often found these birds as late as the end of December; and they sometimes stay there all winter.

Several months are passed in this easy-going sort of an existence. But the first breath of spring which has its beginning in some indefinable region to the southward, seems to stir our bird friends there to memories of happy nestine sites amid summer's flower-strewn fields and parks, or shady forests far away to the north. With some varieties, as the Robins, the preliminary to the journey is a great gathering of the clans, sometimes tens of thousands in a loose flock scattered over miles of country. After a few days of socializing, they break up into small squads and, in response to the migrating instinct, set out upon a journey, long or short, according to the relative location of the winter haunt and summer nesting ground.

All the members of a given family move at about the same time and, if the observation is made south of their nesting-grounds, usually pass a given point in a few days after the first individual of that species appears. Then they are seen no more until the return in the late summer or fall. I see the Fox Sparrows in goodly numbers about the parks of Brooklyn during the first days of April. In about two weeks they pass northward and are not seen again until their return journey in late fall.

Among migrants the bolder and stronger, and those that feed on the wing, fly by day, the more timid by night, when they seem to feel a greater sense of security from their natural enemies. At intervals they stop for food and rest, whenever suitable cover is found, oftentimes even in the heart of a great city. In the shrubbery of the city parks and backyards during the migrations of spring and fall will be found interesting visitors, distinguished strangers, of whose presence one is little aware unless the eye and ear be keen for their coming. Sometimes, if the cats are not too numerous, they will tarry for a few days in a sheltered yard where food may be had.

The great highways of the air, which are traversed every spring and fall by millions upon millions of birds, have a general course that conforms with the direction of the coast line and the river valleys. During fair weather the flight is high, probably more than a mile above the earth, where their progress is unobstructed. But when fog and rain set in, the flight is much lower and they are often confused as to their proper course. Then it is that many come to untimely death by striking against lighthouses, tall buildings, telegraph and other wires. During a prolonged storm the loss of life among migrating birds from these causes is appalling; and this is only one of the many dangers that beset these plucky little travelers. In many of our States, particularly in the south, the laws for the protection of birds are wholly inadequate, so that even during the spring migration whenever they seek shelter to rest and feed they are pursued by hunters. They are also sadly beset by the ubiquitous cat. Besides, songbirds in migration fall prey to the feathered hunters, the Hawk and Owl, that find easy victims in the host of travelers. Yet, despite all dangers, myriads of these heralds of the spring arrive in safety, dressed in their gayest suits, bubbling over with happy songs to cheer and entertain us during the golden months of summer.

With strong fliers like Loons, Ducks, Geese,

Swallows, etc., the journey is rapid and direct and occupies but a few days, even though the distance covered is long. For those birds, also, that winter in the near-by south the journey, though made leisurely, occupies but a few days. In marked contrast to these are the movements of those far travelers, whose journeyings are little short of marvelous. The Bobolink winters in central Brazil, and the routes to and from the winter home, especially of those that breed in our Western States, are very indirect. They travel leisurely through the Southern States where as Reedbirds and later as Ricebirds they are considered fair game for the hunter, because of their fat, plump bodies. Leaving the confines of the United States by the way of Florida, they fly across the ninety miles of sea to Cuba, proceed along that island, thence to the Leeward and Windward Islands by easy flight, finally reaching the shore of South America, whence the remaining distance to their winter haunts in central Brazil is leisurely made. Despite the long distance traveled, their goings and comings are made with great regularity and we can predict with much certainty when they will arrive in early May. Mr. Chapman points out that Bobolinks were formerly found in summer only in our Eastern States, but they have gradually moved west until now they are found beyond the Mississippi, even as far as the Rocky Mountains. And yet when the migration begins in the fall, these western dwellers travel eastward to join their brethren for the long journey, notwithstanding that their winter home could be reached by a much shorter land route via Mexico and Central America. Truly instinct is a strange and exacting master! The Golden Plover winters in far-away Patagonia but builds its nest within the Arctic Circle, covering twice each year a journey of nearly or quite ten thousand miles. Is it not a strange and powerful impulse that prompts birds to cover these enormous distances with all the perils and vicissitudes incident thereto?

The cause of these movements is still a mystery, although scientists have given much attention to the matter. The most reasonable explanation seems to be that they had their beginnings ages ago when the ice cap which covered a great portion of the Northern Hemisphere receded and advanced under varying conditions of temperature. It seems that much force is given to this theory by the fact that birds of the southern hemisphere where the ice movements did not occur do not, as a rule, migrate, but are permanent residents in their various localities. It seems clear that the migratory movement can scarcely result from the food problem alone, or the desire for secure nesting places, for in either case the northern journey would not necessarily help them.

The relative time of the arrival of the many varieties that make up the vast bird army naturally depends upon one's location. The slow fliers arrive in the latitude of New York City a week or ten days earlier than in central New England and northern New York, and about two weeks earlier than in northern Maine,

Of course the fast travelers cover these distances in a much shorter time. The duration of the spring migration is about eighty days, extending from early March to late May. In the autumn the southward movement is made more leisurely, extending from mid-August to late November or early December. At this season they seem in no hurry and many of the hardier varieties linger until the real grip of winter is felt.

The northward journey is ended when the bird has arrived in nesting grounds which are to its liking. As a rule, members of a given variety occupy the same general region, the area of which varies greatly with the different species. A few stragglers will venture farther than the majority of the species, and a few laggards stay somewhat behind the main body; but they occupy pretty definite zones, except as the summer range is influenced by altitude. In mountainous regions will be found nesting birds belonging to a species the main body of which occupies a lower region, often much farther north. For example, along the Allegheny and Blue Ridge Mountains will be found as summer residents a few varieties of which the great majority are much farther north, perhaps in northern New England or Canada.

There have been lodged in the public mind many interesting but highly erroneous beliefs regarding the migration of birds, arising, no doubt, from the mystery that attaches to their sudden appearance in the spring and their equally sudden departure in the fall. In Engc land it was long believed that Swallows hibernate in the mud as do frogs. Even so keen an observer as Gilbert White held to this belief, and probably this strange notion has not yet been wholly eradicated from the minds of men. The old Penobscot Indian who sometimes acts in the capacity of guide on my excursions into the north woods assures me that his tribe believe that all the "little chip birds" make the long migrating journey by clinging to the backs of the larger birds, strong fliers as Loons, Geese, Ducks, Herons, etc., stealing a ride as it were. A lady recently asked me if it were true, as her pastor had explained, that Swallows carry food under their wings for use during the migration. While one may understand how these fantastic beliefs may have been held by ignorant persons a century or more ago and by illiterate Indians, it is not easy to understand how such an idea as that held by the preacher can find lodgment in the mentality of average intelligence and of liberal education.

Very soon after arriving in the region selected for the summer home, usually as soon as the stains of travel have been removed and tired bodies rested, attention is turned to the very important matter of selecting a mate. The males then are clad in their gayest suits, and their choicest songs are ready to woo the ear of the coy female. A few varieties are said to keep the same mate year after year, but this seems rather unlikely. However, the choice is soon made, an agreement reached, and the attention of the pair is turned to the selection of a suitable site for the nest; and as to choice of location a wide range of preference is made by the various families.

Some are expert builders, spending much time in the construction of the nest. Others are indifferent workmen, merely gathering a pile of sticks and reeds with little form and no beauty. A few varieties lay their eggs on a bare rock or a flat-roofed house with no nest at all; and one variety, the Cowbirds, lay their eggs in the nests of other birds, leaving the hatching of the eggs and the care of the fledglings to the little mother who has built the nest and has her own brood to care for. The great majority of birds, however, build substantial nests which, in some cases, serve as the home of two broods in a season; and sometimes the nest is used the second season; but this, I believe, does not often occur. Those birds whose young run as soon as hatched are the least expert nest builders.

The nest completed, the eggs are laid sometimes on consecutive days, sometimes with an interval of several days between. Then follows the period of incubation, varying with different species from ten to twenty-one days. During this time the eggs must be kept warm. This requires pretty constant attention. With some varieties the female alone sits on the eggs, being fed by the male. With other varieties the male spells her, so that she may seek her own food and rest from her irksome task. You will note when you scare a sitting bird from her nest that either flight or running is difficult at first, the muscles of the wings and legs being stiffened from disuse. The male is usually a constant attendant upon the female, spending his time near the nest and cheering his faithful mate with his best songs.

The eggs do not all hatch on the same day, but at intervals which correspond to the time intervening between the days on which the different eggs were laid. With the coming of the helpless fledglings begins the busiest period of the year for the birds. Not only must there be an almost incessant hunt for food adequate to meet the demands of the voracious youngsters, but they must be protected from all marauders, thieving bird, snake, squirrel, or cat.

With a few families, as the Ruffed Grouse, the male bird takes no part in the care of the flock; in fact it appears that he deserts the female even before the period of incubation begins. But with practically all the song birds and many others as well, the domestic duties are shared by both parents, and they seem fully absorbed and withal very happy in the work of rearing the brood. Their efforts are attended by many difficulties, for they are beset by frequent dangers. If one watches the nests in his neighborhood for a few weeks he will be astonished at the great number of tragedies in the bird homes. Yet despite all the dangers, many households are undisturbed and the youngsters grow to maturity with no untoward accidents, adding their numbers to the growing host making ready for the return to the winter homes in the south.

As we have seen, if conditions are favorable, several varieties rear two broods in a season. A pair of Bluebirds occupy a little Swiss chalet which we have placed on the shelf formed by the eve finish breaking around the corner of our house. When the first brood is ready to fly, they are convoyed to the orchard at the back of the house and cared for by the father, while the mother returns to the nest, lays another clutch of eggs, hatches and rears another brood. In early August the two families unite and we have a fine squad of youngsters about the lawn until autumn is well under way.

The early comers have their broods well along toward maturity before the latest migrants arrive. Early in June young Grackles and Robins, in their short-tailed, spotted coats, may be seen about the parks of Brooklyn. As a rule, however, March arrivals do not begin nest building for several weeks, until weather conditions are more favorable. The Canada Jay nests very early, sometimes in February or March, before the terrible cold of the northern winter has in any degree abated.

With the later arrivals there is less delay, except in a few notable cases of which the Cherrybird and Goldfinch are conspicuous examples. These birds spend the spring and early summer in careless roaming about the country, delaying the domestic duties until the season is well advanced. Sometimes as late as mid-August I find nests of the Cherrybird with eggs. Perhaps this delay is occasioned by the desire of the parents to provide their nestlings with some delicacy that is not earlier available. Who knows ?

With many migrating birds, soon after the young are full grown, old and young gather in flocks and, for several weeks, roam happily about the country before taking up their southward journey. But prior to their departure is the moulting which follows close upon the breeding season. Then birds are very quiet. There is little song and activity of ail kinds is at low ebb. Then the gay suits of the males are doffed and sober-colored coats better adapted for travel are put on.

The southward flight begins early in August. Tree and Bank Swallows are among the first to leave and several of the more delicate warblers begin their journey well ahead of the advent of Jack Frost. With these birds the stay in the nesting grounds is very short, just long enough to rear their broods, scarcely more than two months. This seems a very brief period when the length of the migration is considered. But those sturdy heralds of the spring, the Grackle, Robin, Bluebird and Song Sparrow, stay late, some of them seeming to leave with reluctance only when cheerless winter is close upon them.

The tide of southern migration is at its height from September 15 to mid-October. The army that comes in the spring has now been increased by all the broods reared, a vast host. This is rather a discouraging period for the new student of bird life, because of the change in plumage since the springtime, and the lack of song. The gayly dressed males are now in plain clothes and the host of young birds are in costume often quite unlike that of either parent. This leads to much confusion, not to say perplexity, on the part of the student who thought he could identify all common varieties. But one should not take these difficulties too seriously, for with their return again next spring they will appear in their familiar garb.

The round of the year's happenings is completed when the winter habitat is reached again. It is a life of ceaseless activity with much of danger and many difficulties to overcome, but withal we may believe with much of joy. Under normal conditions birds seem very happy. We know little about the hardships they encounter during their absence, of the countless numbers that perish from the vicissitudes of travel. They tell no tales. They return to us clad in their best clothes, bubbling over with song, giving no sign of having grown old. We accept them as they appear, and feel a deep sense of gratitude that we live in a land selected as a summer home by the host of feathered songsters who give us much to enjoy in beautiful plumage and cheerful song.

Very little is known about the age to which birds live, except in the case of those that have been kept in confinement for many years; and probably the facts thus obtained have little relation to the length of life of the same variety in a wild state. An effort is now being made by bird students to find out definitely about the length of life of birds, the direction and extent of migratory movements, etc., by attaching small aluminum bands to the legs of young birds wherever found, bearing the name and address of the person interested. It is believed in the course of time much can be learned in this way. Wherever one of these banded birds is found, information as to the place, date, etc., should be at once forwarded to the address on the band.

Chapter II BIRD STUDY

"For Nature, true and like in every place, Will hint her secret in a garden patch."

— Nature, Emerson.

It seems to be the common belief that bird life is confined almost exclusively to the country; that so far as the city is concerned the only opportunity to pursue this most interesting phase of nature study is found in the museums and avaries of the zoological gardens. That this impression is false may be easily proved. Even slight investigation will show that there is much bird life to be seen in all our towns and cities, even in New York City itself, which might be supposed to offer as little attraction to these feathered friends of ours as any city that one could name.

In all city parks, where there is suitable shelter, a goodly variety of birds will be found throughout the summer. Along the tree-shaded streets, in the gardens and on the lawns, in short wherever there is found the desired protection from their natural enemies, birds will be found in some numbers at all seasons; and during the migration periods of spring and autumn certain city parks are among the very best places to make the acquaintance of a great number of varieties. In two hours on a Saturday afternoon in May, 1912, when the migration was at its height, I saw more than thirty different species of birds in Forest Park, Borough of Queens, New York City. In all there were several hundred birds, among them some, as the Parula Warbler, the Water Thrush, and the Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, that are considered as comparatively rare. Of the first two varieties named there were scores if not hundreds of birds. To be sure they were but travelers, halted for food and rest, yet the opportunity offered to study them was excellent, as they were quite fearless. On the two following Saturdays more than twenty varieties were found on each visit, and several settled down there to build their nests and rear their young. For more than ten years I have visited Prospect Park, Brooklyn, at all seasons of the year, except midsummer, and on no occasion, even in winter, have I failed to find some form of bird life. Starlings, imported about twenty years ago from England, have become very numerous, and these talkative little fellows are in evidence at all seasons of the year, during the fall and winter usually in large flocks. Woodpeckers and Blue Jays are permanent residents, while the summer colony is a numerous one.

In the many city parks which I have visited here and abroad, wherever there are trees and shrubbery, birds have been found. Even in the Garden of the Tuileries in Paris, a much frequented park in the heart of the city, I found that delightful singer the European Blackbird, a large Wood Pigeon, the Bullfinch and several other varieties nesting as happily as though far distant from the turmoil of a great city. On a recent visit to Chicago, in Jackson Park, were found many nesting birds, Robins, Purple Grackles, the House Wren, Kingbirds and several Warblers. Thus one sees that these friends of man are ready to stay near him whenever he will provide home sites and shelter that are suitable for their need.

Distribution of Bird Life. Bird life is very generally distributed over the earth's surface. On mountain heights, in mid-ocean, in the great deserts, even in the Polar regions, as well as in our fields, forests and parks, birds are found* Mr. Amundsen reports having found Gulls and Penguins very near the South Pole, so that one may believe that the distribution of bird life is practically universal. Thus we see that whereever we go we may always find birds to study, under widely varying conditions in different parts of the earth.