Nests and Eggs of Birds of The United States

Having decided upon their migratory tour, they start in small companies, from four to six in number. These settle down in small tracts of country of a few rods in area on reaching their destination. Low, swampy thickets generally invite their presence. Here they conceal themselves during the day. But when night has dethroned her rival, and temporarily assumed the reins of power, they come out of their grassy retreats, and wander about in search of food. The setting of the sun behind the western hill-tops is the signal for their nocturnal rambles to begin. And well do they keep them up. For it is not until the first streak of morning is seen to glow in the East that they abandon their foragings and retire to accustomed haunts. Few there are who have visited these birds at such times. Let us take our readers to yon neighboring swamp, or by the side of some lowly woodland, which these strange beings delight to frequent. The utmost silence must be maintained, or our friends will be frightened away. While we may not be able to see the objects that have called us hither, we know they are not far away by the rustle which they produce among the dry leaves, and by the peculiar notes which they emit, for there are two or three individuals together, as they move restlessly about in the undergrowth, in their search for worms. Chip-per, chip-per, chip may be heard from the right, and almost in the next instant it is varied to bleat or bleat ta bleat ta, produced in the contrary direction, or off in the distance, showing that the authors thereof have changed their positions. While these birds have an habitual fondness for humid thickets, they not unfrequently betake themselves to corn-fields and other cultivated tracts in close proximity thereto, and even to elevated woods.

For more than a fortnight after their arrival the sexes, though feeding in company, do not apparently manifest a disposition to assume conjugal relationship. The desire for food seems to be uppermost in their minds. The inclemency of the weather, and the coldness of the ground in consequence, may have much to do with holding the amatory forces in check. But when the opportune moment arrives, which it does in the course of events, the sexes stop from their feeding, in a measure, and give the nobler instincts of their being a chance for development. The males are the first to feel the changes which are being wrought in their natures. For more than a week from this time, in the early morning and evening hours, they may be seen exercising themselves by means of "curious spiral gyrations" in mid-air, and uttering, as they descend earthwards, a note which Audubon lias likened to the word kwank. This note may be a call for the female in the spring, but as it is often uttered in the fall after the breed-ing-season is past, it may also be a summons for the gathering together of the members of the same household. The production of these sounds seems to be a labor of much effort. The movements of the bird then, must be seen to be appreciated. The head and bill are bent forward until the latter comes into contact with the ground, and, just as the sound is being emitted, the body is urged violently forward. These spasmodic exertions being over, the actor in this drama, twitches its abbreviated, halfspread tail, assumes an erect attitude of listening, and, if no response is elicited, repeats its characteristic cry, with all the accompanying movements. If the call awakes an answering note, the happy lover flies to the presence of the one he seeks, and lavishes upon her the most endearing caresses. Sometimes, as Audubon affirms, the male awaits the arrival of the loved one, and does not fly to meet her. According to the same authority, the summons seems sometimes to be replied to by one of the same sex, which is always the prelude to a fierce encounter between the two, for, on these occasions, when the feelings are in a high state of tension, the utmost enmity exists between the males. These contentions are usually shortlived, and cease with the assumption of matrimonial relations.

The happiness of the male is now complete. With his homely, but, doubtless, to him, prepossessing bride, by his side, he soon journeys off in search of a home. This is a matter of some consequence, and tasks the patience to the utmost. But their labors in this direction are eventually crowned with success. They frequent the most secluded resorts, and hide their nest away in some low, dense and swampy woods or brake, difficult of access, and one that none but the cruel collector would be likely to visit. The nest is generally placed on the ground, at the foot of a bush or tussock, in the midst of small birches or alders, or on a decayed stump or prostrate log. In some localities it is snugly nestled in the midst of a meadow. It is not an elaborate affair by any means, but merely consists of a few dried leaves or grasses which are scratched together by the female – the work of a few hours at the most.

The domicile being ready for occupancy, the female soon commences to deposit her beautiful treasures. One by one they are laid on consecutive days, until her complement of three or four is reached. In the Southern States, oviposition commences in March or February, while in the northern limits of the range of this species, from the tenth to the fifteenth of April; seldom later. Incubation is mutual, and so attentive are the birds to the task, that it is an unusual occurrence to find them both absent therefrom at the same time. When the female is sitting, her partner improves the time by attending to the demands which hunger makes upon him. The same is true of the female when she has resigned her charge to the care of her noble and conscientious lord. So faithfully do they keep to the nest, that nothing but the most menacing danger will compel them to quit it. The approach of a team, or of a pedestrian, within a foot of it, has not been known to startle them. But when the danger is quite imminent, the sitting-bird slips out of it, and makes its way into the tall grasses, at some distance therefrom, and becomes a silent and sorrowful witness of the disaster to be accomplished. Should no destruction be perpetrated, and the intruder has gone his way, it cautiously comes out of its hiding-place, and resumes labors. But it has learned a lesson by this experience. For on a second visit to the same spot, no bird is to be found. Apprised of approaching danger, it has slipped out of the nest in time to escape detection. Thus patiently, persistently, and seemingly unweariedly, these faithful beings, by turns, apply themselves to the task, until success has crowned their willing labors. The time spent in hatching, under the most favorable circumstances, varies from seventeen to eighteen days.

The young are very timid creatures, and keep close to their parents, who manifest considerable solicitude for their well-being. They watch over their helpless infancy, so to speak, with a care which a human mother only knows, and when their lives are imperiled, resort to many a ruse to deceive their enemies, and bring them into places of safety. By a peculiar alarm, when severely pressed, the mother warns them of the condition of things, and while they are scattering in different directions, she seeks to attract attention to herself in many a well-feigned artifice. After the danger is past, by a familiar call she summons them together, and doubtless relates to them the story of her adventures, and the dangers to which they were exposed. Their food consists of worms, animalcula, ants and other soft-bodied insects, which the parents assist them in procuring from the soft earth, and beneath the grass and dead leaves that abound in the places which they frequent. Later on, they are able to obtain their subsistence with the address of older birds, by thrusting their bills into the soil, and in such other places as would be likely to contain the objects desired. Their tongues being covered with a viscid saliva, the food adheres thereto, and is drawn into the mouth without danger of being-lost. Gunners, as well as those who have made these birds a study, have often met with holes which have been made in the soft mud by their bills. The presence of these "borings," as they are called, is always considered as an indication that game is not very far distant, which a thorough exploration of the surrounding country soon reveals to be the fact. The young having thoroughly matured, continue in the same haunts with their parents, and, unless brought to an untimely death by the merciless gun of the hunter, repair to the warm, sunny, smiling South with the return of frost.

The eggs of this species are less pyriform than waders' mostly are, being, in some instances, almost ovoidal. Their ground-color varies from a light clay to one of buffy-brown, and the markings occur in the form of fine spots and blotches of chocolate-brown, interspersed with others of obscure lilac, scattered more or less thickly over the surface of the egg.

According to Dr. Coues, their size and intensity of color bear, in general, a direct correspondence with the depth of the background. In Massachusetts these eggs exhibit remarkable variation, passing from 1.45 to 1.80 inches in length, and from 1.15 to 1.25 in width. Out of a collection of a dozen specimens, Dr. Coues found the shortest and broadest egg to measure 1.40 by 1.20, and the longest, narrowest one, 1.55 by 1.15 inches. A set of three before us, from Pennsylvania, has an average measurement of 1.54 by 1.21 inches. In the Middle States, and the same is doubtless true of other sections of our great country, there is never more than a single brood raised, although the early breeding of the species would certainly give ample time for a second hatching before the close of the season. The drawing shows not merely the eggs in situ, although considerably reduced, but at the same time gives a beautiful and accurate figure of a typical specimen, alone and isolated. The female is represented as standing in the vicinity of the nest, while her partner occupies a sitting posture in the foreground of the picture. The total length of this species, from tip of bill to extremity of tail, is eleven inches. The wing has a stretch of two and a quarter inches. So well have the birds been portrayed by the artist, that we shall not attempt a description.

Plate XXV. – COLYMBUS SEPTENTRION A LIS, Linnæus. – Red-throated Diver

Chiefly a boreal species, especially during the breeding-season, the Red-throated Diver is only known to visit us during the winter. On our eastern sea-board it seldom attains a lower latitude than Maryland, while in the West it has been met with along the coast as far south as San Diego, California. Farther north, however, on the shore-line, around the inlets of Washington Territory adjacent to the British possessions, it is more abundant. Although of rare occurrence along the Atlantic coast of the United States (and it is mostly the young and immature birds that are to be seen) yet in Arctic regions the species meets with the essential conditions of soil and climate which render life a pleasure, and not a burden. Consequently, the birds abound in great numbers, and carry on their worldly affairs unexposed to the dangers which would most likely affect them in less severe localities that are the common resorts of man.

Like most of its kin, this Diver is seen to the best advantage in winter. Here several may be seen together, when the weather is favorable, moving lightly over the surface of the sea by means of their broad seallike paddles, with gently-curving neck and flashing eyes, and on the qui vive for whatever of life may stir in the depths below. But let some luckless sprat cross the keen-sighted vision of one of these birds, and its whole demeanor becomes changed. It is now no longer the peaceful bird pursuing its way leisurely over the waters, but the terror of the finny tribes. Like an arrow, it darts downward, and with marvellous swiftness, urged by its powerful webbed feet and wings, it shoots through the limpid fluid, and by means of one fell stroke of its strong-pointed bill, transfixes its victim and rises to the surface again. With a gentle shiver of the body, the thousand drops of water that adhere to its sleek plumage, like spangled dew-drops upon glittering grass-spears, fly in every direction, leaving the feathers as dry as if the bird had never taken this sub-aqueous journey. Divested of its borrowed jewels, it now prepares to enjoy its well-won and precious morsel. For this purpose, with a peculiar jerking movement, the prey is swallowed, head foremost, and while the process of digestion is going forward, the perpetrator of this late sanguinary deed settles down into quiet life, or pursues, with majestic and dignified mien, its customary movement athwart the glassy bosom of the deep.

Although affecting great fondness for the sea, yet, when awakened to a true sense of its being by the unseen forces of Nature, and the amatory feelings have become aroused, it bids a temporary adieu thereto, and seeks some small, sequestered island in the midst of a lake or pond of fresh water, in close proximity to the ocean, where it places its nest. The sexes enter into this business with due consideration and dispatch, and apparently waste but few precious moments in the indulgence of idle fancies, or in the gratification of cherished whims. There is little of the heartlessness and fickleness shown by the wooed when her wooer makes his suit, as characterize many of our land denizens. The male, tired of the utter aimlessness of the social life which he has been leading, retires from the scenes once so dear, seeks his mate, doubtless the partner of former joys and sorrows, and leads her to the hymeneal altar a willing bride. A few mutual recognitions of love, and the happy pair are sealed for another season.

Their chief concern now seems to be the establishment of a home. This is a work of short duration. A few blades of rank grass, hastily gathered in the neighborhood, are brought together, and, by the joint labors of both birds, are circularly arranged, and made to subserve the necessary purposes. The nest is very shallow, quite bulky, and well hidden by the surrounding verdure. There is always noticeable a lack of down or of feathers, which so many sea-birds are accustomed to utilize for warmth and concealment. Well-beaten paths may be seen diverging from the nest, which the birds follow in going to and returning from the same. When either desires to go' thither, it is never known to resort to flight, as this would apparently betray its whereabouts. But the object desired is gained by a safer method. The bird swims quietly around the nest, carefully reconnoitres the spot, and if the land is free from peril, crawls silently out of the water and waddles her way up to it.

By reason of the severity of northern winters, as is usually the case with most birds that breed in Labrador and kindred regions the subject of our sketch is necessarily compelled to delay nesting until the close of May, or the beginning of June. By this time the sun has nearly attained the limit of his course in this direction, and his influence is begun to be felt with considerable force. The female is not long in occupying the rude domicile with her small complement of two or three eggs.

In the duty of incubation, which closely follows that of laying, the male does not shirk the responsibility, and seek the companionship of others of the same sex to while away the hours in piscatorial diversions, but, gallant knight that he is, he never forsakes his mate, unless called away by hunger. He is ever ready to respond to her call, and assumes the charge of the house and its precious, undeveloped inmates, with cheerfulness. The period of incubation has never been determined.

The young from the first are active creatures, and take to the water almost as soon as they are hatched. On their first introduction to this fluid they prove themselves to be equally expert both in swimming and in diving. Few parents are more solicitous for the safety of their progeny. When assailed by dangers, they watch over them with assiduous care, and lead them in many a devious route through the watery waste, and inculcate into their minds many a bit of information and advice which could not be better taught otherwise. The young profit by these teachings by example, and soon become as shy and vigilant as their illustrious parents. In their fresh-water home, they feed upon snails, leeches, shrimps, small fish and aquatic insects. But after they have betaken themselves to the sea, they discard, in a measure, such small fry, and seek larger game, as they sport freely and lustily about in the exuberance of happy spirits. They are not long in acquiring their full stature, and in rendering themselves acquainted with the vocabulary of their parents. The vocal expressions of the latter are harsh and loud, and may be aptly represented by the syllables cac, cac, carah, carah, delivered in rapid succession. The birds are slow, however, in obtaining their full plumage. This does not occur until the fourth year of their existence.

The eggs of this species differ from those of the Loon, a near cousin, chiefly in size; being somewhat smaller. They pass from an oval form to one that is ovate, and, in some instances, are rather elongated. Their general color is an olivaceous-brown, although specimens sometimes show a decided tendency to olivaceous-drab. We have seen others whose primary color was of a reddish-brown order. Scattered over the ground-color, but mainly about the larger extremity, spots of black or dark-brownish, varying in size from a pin-point to an eighth of an inch, may be found more or less abundantly. A clutch of two before us from Greenland are olivaceous-brown tending slightly to drab, and are marked with blackish spots of varying sizes. They measure respectively 3.13 and 3.07 inches in length, and 1.88 and 1.75 inches in diameter, giving a mean average measurement of 3.10 by 1.82 inches. In the cut they are figured as large as they appear in nature, and in the foreground. The birds are faithfully delineated as to colors and markings, but show considerable diminution in size. In the natural state, the male has a length of twenty-seven, and a wing-expanse of eleven and a half inches; the bill and tail each being two and a quarter inches. The female is a trifle smaller than her partner, weighing, on an average, about a pound less. Her plumage is the exact counterpart of his, or differs in no material particulars therefrom.

Plate XXVI. – POLIOPTILA CÆRULEA, (Linn.) Sclater. – Blue-gray Gnatcatcher

When the first breath of spring, on zephyr wings, blows over the South, laden with dewy moisture and balm from regions beyond the Gulf, this tiny speck of bird-life feels the glowing influence, and hails it with delight. Weary and restless, it seeks to break away from its winter-home, or change the monotony of its existence. While some are inclined to newness of climate, and leisurely wend their way northward, others are happy and contented where they are. Those, imbued with a spirit of migration, quit their less ambitious neighbors in March or April, to spend their summers abroad. All reach their destination by three great routes. Those on the east, that winter in the isles to the southward, follow the trend of the great Atlantic slope as far north as the valley of the Connecticut and kindred latitudes. Others, doubtless, from our southernmost States and the Mexican possessions, pursue a central direction, one part passing through the eastern half of the Mississippi Valley to the Lake country, and the other ceasing from their toilsome journey when the northern frontiers of Nebraska and Iowa are attained. While the western wave, so to speak, collect from their winter-retreats in the valleys of the Colorado and Rio Grande Rivers and follow these streams to their headwaters, or turn aside from their course and make their way through the fertile slopes of the Pacific to the latitude of 42 degrees.

Though an early migrant, yet, by reason of the tardiness of its movements, this species does not arrive in the Middle States until the last of April, or the beginning of May. In Maryland and Virginia, according to Coues, its advent occurs during the early part of April. The Carolinas, Northern Alabama and Tennessee witness its appearance about the fifteenth of March when the season is not retarded by a long, cold winter, and the Northern Central States, towards the close of the ensuing month, which, by some inexplicable cause, seems also to be the date of its coming in the great Colorado Basin.

Appearing at a time when the trees are beginning to clothe themselves in shimmering robes of green, and often before the oaks and hickories have burst their tumid buds into the rich drapery of foliage which is to cover their unsightly nakedness, our little friend is none the less welcome. From the tall tree-tops we are first made aware of his presence by the shrill, wiry notes with which he salutes the morn, and which he is accustomed to utter during the livelong day as he moves in and out among the branches in tireless pursuit of prey. Not a tree-crevice escapes his keen scrutiny. While thus eagerly prying into every cranny or crack that meets his gaze in quest of the lurking culprit, should the buzz of a fly or the hum of a beetle be borne to his hearing, in an instant he is off with a dash that is wonderful to behold, and the unhappy insect is made to repent the folly and temerity of its action. At such times, his behavior seems to be all hurry and bustle, as though the work of a life must be crowded into a few short days.

We have but pictured to the minds of our readers the selfish side of his character, as manifested in the uncontrollable rapacity which sways him. But when the finer and more ennobling impulses of his nature, stimulated by returning warmth, have once more gained the mastery, a milder grace attends his every movement, and sweeter accents attune his voice. We no longer hear those peculiar sounds, which to the human ear resemble tsee-tsee-tsee, repeated in rapid succession, and which, a few short weeks before, were everywhere to be heard – a fit accompaniment to his reckless life – but instead, are regaled with the sweetest, tenderest music. This is so low, that to appreciate its effect, the auditor must be but a few yards distant from the tree which our modest vocalist has selected to be the scene of his endeavors. So well sustained is the effort, and, above all, so faultlessly rendered, that the most austere critic could hardly fail to assign the performer a high place among the feathered choir.

Like many of his kith, he does not seek the bare branch of some tall tree, where he can be seen, and thrill the air of vale and wood around with ear-splitting utterances. He despises such notoriety. Hid away in the leafy canopy that wreathes the brow of some gnarled oak, he loves to take his stand, and there pour out his soul in all the ecstasy of subdued song. Unpretentious as his music may be, and undervalued for its lack of force by the vast choir of singers around, yet it has a depth of power and feeling, which, as it is borne aloft upon the bosom of the gentle air, strikes the ears of some timid, modest creature, and startles the slumbering chords of her being into harmony. Life to her now acquires new vitality and enjoyment. With heart beating high with rapturous emotions, and urged by an irresistible desire, she betakes herself on swiftest pinions to the spot whence emanate the sounds. As she nears it, the music comes to her with fuller distinctness, and sends the heart-throbs following one another in happy, swift succession. The singer does not abate his efforts, but keeps them up with scarce an intermission, until they elicit a response, or the gentle, loving one is wafted to his immediate presence. On the reception of a reply, his movements are restless and animated. But let the object of his thoughts but flit before his excited vision, and in a moment he is by her side. In a variety of actions which, from a human standpoint, seem meaningless and frivolous, he conveys to her his love, and the boundless appreciation of her worth. This done, he next attempts a song, which seems to soothe her hitherto agitated feelings, and awakens confidence and resignation. He is not slow in perceiving the advantage thus acquired, and, consequently, follows it up with other advances, which completely place her at the disposal of his mercy and power. Conquered at last, she yields herself a willing subject to the potency of love, and becomes his wedded wife.