Nests and Eggs of Birds of The United States

The eggs of this species are usually of a uniform dark cream color, but sometimes show a nearly pure-white ground. In most specimens there are no markings at all, but when they do occur, are either quite numerous and conspicuous, or few in number, and obscure. They are usually ovoidal, but forms are occasionally met with which are nearly spherical. Their average dimensions, as obtained from specimens from the most diverse localities, are about 1.64 to 1.18 inches. As far as we have been able to determine the species has never been known to produce more than a single brood. Usually nesting is performed on the ground, as shown in the cut, but instances are recorded by Samuels where the female has occupied a deserted Crow's nest, or the shelter of some tall broken trunk of a tree.

Plate XXX. – STERNA ANTILLARUM, (Less.) Coues. – Least Tern

For diminutiveness of size, nimbleness and grace of action, this species stands alone among its kin, and has been very properly likened in its movements to the sprightly, elfish Humming-bird. This comparison holds true in this latter particular, as those who have had the privilege of watching these Terns in their pleasurable aerial diversions can testify, but there is lacking that essentiality which makes the other seem, when fluttering before a tulip, a mere materialized sylph from the land of dreams.

Nothing can give the enthusiastic lover of Nature more true and unalloyed happiness than the study of our aquatic friend in his own loved haunts, and while in the delightful exercise of his volant powers.

His majestic sailing through the pellucid atmosphere, whether for pleasure or game, the beautiful equipoise of body as on motionless wings he hangs suspended above the liquid abyss below, the sudden, impetuous, hawk-like plunge when some luckless sprat rises to view, and last, but not least, the easy manner with which he arrests his downward course and bounds aloft, must be seen to form an adequate conception of the wonderful powers of flight with which the least of all our Terns is endowed.

Although fond of the deep-blue sea, with its sad and never-ending-monotone, and the dreary, almost barren waste of sands that line its tortuous, plantless shores, it is by no means an exclusive dweller by such haunts. Inspired by a love of adventure, and burning for new sights and forms of life, it quits the shadow of Neptune's trident, and wends its way up the various water-courses that tend seaward, to quieter inland scenes.

While more especially abundant in maritime regions, it is, however, more general in tracts remote therefrom than has been commonly supposed. So that instead of the whole vast army betaking themselves to the thousand miles stretching along the Atlantic, many from the Gulf in the South, may be seen, when the tide of migration has set in, wending their ways in small parties along the vast central artery of our land to the distant valley of the Missouri, and elsewhere. Towards the setting sun, another current takes its northward course, but spends its strength on the mild, equable shores of California before any considerable elevation is attained.

Whence come these birds? This is a question that is often asked, but most difficult of solution. That they winter beyond the borders of the United States there can be no doubt. After quitting our shores, it is highly probable they seek the tropical realms of Central America, or the breezy isles of the Larger Antilles.

But wherever they go, there they remain until the snows of their northern homes have disappeared. So delicate and susceptible to cold are they that even along our Southern sea-bordering States, where the felicitous change first manifests itself, they delay their visit until the early days of April are come. But it is not until this delightful month of the year has stepped aside to welcome her smiling sister, that the cooler shores of New Jersey are reached. From this latitude they pursue their journey to the extreme limits of their habitat.

After a little they settle down to the very important business which has inspired the journey. The twenty-fifth of May, or the beginning of the month sacred to Juno, marks the love-season, which is of short continuance. Having accomplished their loves and selected partners, the sexes now turn their attention to household matters. The first thing to be done is the selection of a spot and the preparation of a home. This part of the business pertains exclusively to the female, and, seemingly, is accounted of trifling moment. Like most of her terrestrial, and many of her aquatic neighbors, she does not build a house, but on the pebbly shingle just back of the beach, places her eggs on the bare ground, with not so much as a bit of sea-weed or of grass beneath them. The merest apology of a nest is often denied them.

The number of eggs deposited varies from one to two, the latter being the ordinary number. Instances are recorded where as many as three have been found as a nest-complement, but there certainly must be some mistake, which could easily happen in localities where many birds are breeding together. Where more than one is laid, a day usually intervenes between the two deposits. Nothing is more difficult to find, even when plentiful, than the eggs of this species, owing to the similarity of their color to the surroundings. Their ground sometimes presents a greenish-white color, but tends more to olivaceous or dull drab. The markings are numerous, pretty generally diffused, but when of large size, are mostly wreathed about the larger extremity. They consist of irregular blotches and dots of different shades of brown, interspersed with numerous obscure spots of lilac. Their average measurements are 1.26 by 1.02 inches.

Having committed her treasures to mother-earth, the female has little else to do than to guard them from harm. The heat of the sand, when the skies are undimmed by cloud or mist, is sufficient for hatching purposes. The application of living heat, so to speak, is unnecessary, and it is even a question in our minds whether the female could endure the inconvenience and trials of the incubating process, in the midst of a broiling sun upon a sandy sea-shore. But during wet and stormy weather, and at night, this duty is actually incumbent upon her.

The appearance of the young, after a period of sixteen or seventeen days, brings the parents nearer together, and keeps them more at home. While kind and affectionate to each other, it is the attention which they bestow upon their happy little family that commands our admiration, and gives special prominence to their character. With true parental instinct they watch over their early helplessness, and provide them with an abundance of wholesome diet. Beetles, spiders, crickets and other insects, as well as prawns, shrimps, skippers and small fish, form their dietary. But it is not only by feeding them that they conserve to their well-being, but also by protecting them when assailed by enemies. The sight of an intruder is greeted with shrill cries of remonstrance from a whole chorus of voices. This not having the desired effect, a score of angry birds of both sexes dash boldly upon him, as though to punish him for such rashness.

By the middle of June the earliest broods are on the wing. This, however, is rather premature, for the greater part are not in a condition for flight until the fore part of the month after. Associated with them may often be seen plenty of immature birds of last summer's hatchings, as well as the adults themselves. The yearlings are easily distinguished by the black bill, slightly forked tail, slate-colored occiput and auriculars, imperfect coloration of the primaries, absence of black cap or white crescent, and the presence of a dark band along the edge of the wing. With birds of the season, which show a strangely-variegated dress of grayish-brown and white, there is no possibility of being mistaken or confounded. The assumption of the perfect plumage usually requires a period of two years. Both sexes are similarly clad. During the breeding-season they have the entire upper parts and wings of a clear bluish-gray, variegated with a triangular white spot on the forehead reaching to the eye, and deep black crown and occiput, as well as a line from the eye to the upper mandible of the same color. The first ten primary wing feathers have the shafts black, the outer webs and half the inner next the shaft, grayish-black, ends concolorous, and inner margins white. The remaining primaries are of the same color as the back, with inner margins white. Excepting the outer borders of the external feathers, and the inner webs of the others basally, which are white, the tail is slaty. The whole under parts are of a lustrous white color, while the bill is a pale orange-yellow, iris hazel, and legs and feet a light orange-red. The length of these birds is about nine inches; their wings six and three-quarters, and the tail a trifle more than one-half of the latter measurement. Young birds are correspondingly smaller.

Plate XXXI. – SIALIA SIALIS, (Linn.) Haldem. – Eastern Bluebird

Inhabiting the vast continents lying to the eastward of our own, exists a family of birds popularly known as Stone-chats. Though mainly denizens of the Old World, yet they are not without their representatives in the New. To this group belongs the genus Sialia, notwithstanding the possession of structural peculiarities which ally it to the Thrushes. Of aves claiming such affinity, none is better known than the above species.

Throughout the eastern faunal area of North America, from Georgia and Louisiana to the 48th parallel of north latitude, and westward to the highlands of the Mississippi, our genial, sky-blue friend abounds, in varying numbers, and rears its triple brood. Along the Atlantic seaboard, it never ventures as far north as it does in the interior, being rarely observed beyond the Penobscot River, although Verrill met with it in abundance in Western Maine. Six hundred miles out at sea, in the delightful climate of the Bermudas, it finds a permanent residence, and is also to be seen in Spanish Cuba, but only on rare occasions. Among the lofty ridges and open table-lands of the Rockies, it never occurs, but gives place to an apparently hardier species, the Arctic Bluebird of naturalists; while west of this vast mountain barrier, another form prevails.

So strongly attached to the natal spot do these birds become, that it is with profound feelings of regret that they leave it. It is only when the rigors and snows of our northern winters have denied them a living, and thus rendered a longer sojourn impossible, that they take their departure for the South. Here they while away the dreary hours as best they can, until the returning footsteps of Sol have announced the glad tidings that the hallowed, time-honored haunts of the north will soon once more appear in beautiful habiliments of green. Excepting such as spend their entire lives in semi-tropical abodes, there is manifest an intense longing to be gone, which must necessarily detract from the happiness of their migratory brethren. This emotion often grows to such strength, that even in the mild, sunny weather of February, with which earth sometimes indulges her children, the brown, scored and pitted face of Nature is often rejoiced with their delightful presence. Amid the desolation which everywhere abounds, they dart upon the vision like the first gleam of sunshine after a day of dark and rainy weather. The bright, ruddy glow that burns upon the breast, as if in cruel mockery of earth's coldness, and the rich depth of coloring of the back, before whose vivid azure the very heavens seem to pale, are in striking contrast to objects around, and thrill the soul of man with gladness as the wearers of these charming hues are the bearers of glad intelligence, for they come to remind us that laughing field and babbling runnel have not entirely deserted us, but will return to enliven the prospect when a few more days have rung their changes on the endless cycle of time.

But while a few home-sick individuals thus come among us, ere the backbone of winter has been broken, to renew old friendships, and point to bonnier times, it is not until the first sunny days of March have made their appearance, that the tide of emigration is said to set in with earnestness. Coming from no great distance, they are not long on the journey, and in a few days are pretty well established in the old habitats. At first they are seen in open fields, or loitering about the outskirts of woods. In rural situations they are not slow in working their way into old orchards, and the yards adjoining human habitations. But wherever they take up their quarters, they are sure to make themselves friends. Few species are more encouraged to build about our domains, and none are in greater repute. While the Robin and Orioles do immense service in the destruction of thousands of obnoxious insects, they frequently offset this good character by the mischief which they commit upon our fruit-trees while in blossom. Not so with the Bluebird. He disdains such meanness, and labors solely for man's interests.

Arrived in our midst, he does not foolishly waste his time in riotous living, and worse than bacchanalian riot, but goes directly to the work which has called him North. Consequently, from many a field and forest-border may be heard the soft, plaintive notes of the male. These notes are singularly pleasing and touching, and are well calculated to arouse a feeling of sympathy in the bosom of the most inhuman of men. At this period, which marks the incipient stages of courting, he is heard to the best advantage, although occasionally through the summer, and in the fall when preparing to leave us, he is known to descant somewhat similar strains, but with less of pathos and effort. The following syllabic language is as accurate a representation of the song as it is possible to express it by human vocal characters: tür-r-r-r-wâ, tïir-wüh-tür-r-r-wû, tür-r-r-h' wêêt. While engaged in its rendition from the topmost bough of a cedar, or the uppermost rail of a fence, his attitude shows such complete absorption in the subject, and such obliviousness to place and surroundings, as to awaken the profoundest wonder. The approach of footsteps is unheeded, and many a time we have made our way to within a few paces of one of these famous minstrels, without producing momentary surprise, or the least disarrangement of the harmony. All the while the concert is going on, the female is in the immediate vicinity, silent and motionless, and apparently drinking in its full import. But after a little the music ceases. The performer now leaves his post, flies towards the listening and solitary auditor, hangs on quivering wings suspended before her, and thus having made obsequious obeisance, alights a short distance away to ascertain the effects of all these efforts to please. Again and again, at regular intervals, the performance is repeated, and at last the female succumbs to the magnetic influence, and becomes a bride. All this is accomplished in less than a week from the time of arrival, long before most other small birds have thought of conjugal responsibilities.

By the tenth of March the happy couple are ready to go house-hunting. The female assumes the direction, and it is not long before they are suited. Their usual nesting-place is some cranny in a dead tree, or the vacant hole of a departed Woodpecker. The snapping off of a time-honored limb has often opened the way for a snug retreat. Almost any nook or cavity will answer in a pinch. Birds have been known to build in a deep fissure between the branches of a tree, in a broken tin water-spout under the eaves of a building, between the blind and sash of an almost forsaken window, in the stolen home of some eave swallow, in boxes and gourds, or occasionally in the forked branch of an apple-tree.

When a garden or orchard is chosen, objections are sometimes made by other species, and frequent encounters are recorded between the Bluebirds and such Wrens, Martins and Sparrows as deem themselves to have been badly treated by the former. In these affrays, contrary to expectation, the Bluebird is usually victorious, being more than a match for the smallest of our Woodpeckers, and even lording it over such professional fighters as the English Sparrow. But his pluckiest and most inveterate enemy is the House Wren. This tiny buccaneer will often visit the Bluebird's snug house, while the mistress is absent, and after raking out the materials, remain in possession. Any attempt, however, at interference when the family is within, is treated as an insult, and summarily avenged Generally Madam Bluebird and her husband are such gentle, quiet bodies that they never think of molesting their neighbors. As in well-regulated human communities, there are individuals who are not above such meanness. A case in point came under our observation some five or six years ago. A pair of Great-crested Flycatchers, finding an empty tomato-can secured to the top of a post, had made it their home and treasure-house. Shortly afterwards a pair of Bluebirds came upon the scene, and coveting the cosy quarters, sought to expel the rightful owners. The Flycatchers resisted, and the property-owner, desirous of ending the disturbance, shot the female Bluebird. The male immediately flew away, but to return in the course of a half-hour with two females. The contest was renewed, and victory decided in his favor. The Flycatchers, however, did not retire until they had thrown out the nesting-materials, a portion of which they afterwards carried away to use elsewhere. After the defeat the Bluebird selected a partner from his allies, and the unfortunate female gracefully retired. The proprietor, perceiving a strong predilection upon the part of the Bluebirds for the can, determined to annoy them awhile, and fastened a lath across the entrance, and watched the result. The birds set to work, and the piece was dislodged. They built their nest, deposited their eggs, and raised their broods, which they fed upon two species of turnip butterfly, and the wingless bodies of Spilosoma, a moth destructive to the grape.

Into their domicile the birds convey a good deal of grass, which they cover with a soft layer of hair, feathers and wool. While the male assists at this labor, the arrangement of details involved in the preparation of the furniture, falls to the lot of his partner. While she is thus busy, he relieves the tedium of the task by a song, and a few caresses. In the Northern States the nest is finished and the first eggs deposited by the 10th of April; in the South much earlier. Why the Bluebird selects cavities as nesting places, does not readily appear. Being an early breeder, such situations best secure warmth and shelter for the young. In primitive times hollow trees were doubtless occupied more generally than at present by all birds, just as now they are constantly used as hospitia by our winter residents during disagreeable weather. The Bluebird learned to build in cavities by first using such places for shelter during cold, vernal storms, and perceiving their comfort, has come to regard them as appropriate quarters for nesting. Thus what was merely accidental to their ancestors, has now become intuitive and habitual to the race. Protection against rapacious birds is also secured, which would not be gained if the bright plumage of the female were exposed in an open nest.

As no dampness is to be dried, laying follows closely upon the completion of the nest, and continues for a period of five clays, one egg being laid daily. They are usually of a sky-blue color, spotless, and have an actual measurement of .82 by .61 inches. Mr. Ingersoll once found in Loraine County, Ohio, a nest of five eggs, all of which were pure lustrous white, like those of a Woodpecker. Similar instances have come to our knowledge since the above was recorded. In the work of incubation, the male occasionally relieves his partner, but when not thus engaged, lie is very attentive, and often cheers the monotony of her task by a soft, agreeable warble. He is also now very jealous. Not a bird is permitted to trespass upon his premises. If surprised upon the nest, the female makes no effort to escape as long as untouched; but waits until you have withdrawn to a safe distance before flying from the hole. When hatched, the young are watched over with the greatest care, and fed alternately by each parent. Their food consists of flies, earthworms, young of beetles, moths, butterflies, etc. When able to shift for themselves, they are entrusted to the care of the male, while the female busies herself in preparing for the second brood. The old nest is renovated and refurnished, and she again sits, depending upon her affectionate and trustful mate for the support of both herself and the brood which, as it sometimes happens, are not fairly out of the way when the second family of young are ushered into existence. As many as three broods are occasionally raised, when the season has been long and favorable.

Young males of the year are easily distinguished. They are dull brown on the head and back, and have the lesser coverts streaked with white. The throat and fore part of the breast are marked with similar stripes, while the rest of the coloration, with the exception of the brownish edges of the tertial wing-feathers, is somewhat similar to that of the adult. The entire upper parts, including tail and wings, of the latter, are of a continuous and azure-blue color. The cheeks are of the same hue, but duller. The under parts, the abdomen, anal region (and under tail-coverts, which are white, excluded), are reddish-brown. The bill and feet are black, and the same may be said of the shafts of the quills and tail-feathers. From her partner, the female differs in being less blue, and in having a brownish cast upon the head and back. In size, they hardly vary. Their length is six and three-fourths inches, wing four, tail two and nine-tenths.

Plate XXXII. – SETOPHAGA RUTICILLA, (Link.) Swainson. – American Redstart

In the habit of capturing insects upon the wing, the sylvicoline subfamily of birds to which the Redstart belongs, resembles very closely the smaller Flycatchers, but it differs in being less sedentary. When in pursuit of food, it is constantly on the move, in and out among the branches and foliage, seldom, if ever, waiting for some apparently witless insect to manifest itself as our Pewees do. The strictly oscine character of the tarsal scutellæ or plates, and the existence of nine primary wing-feathers, are sufficient to distinguish them from the latter, notwithstanding the orange or yellow crown of some of its members. These birds – the Setophagmae of naturalists – have their greatest development in tropical America, where no less than nine genera and sub-genera are known to exist. Only two of them extend into the United States, and of the genus of Redstarts, we have but one of the many that have been described. This species, to which allusion has just been made, has an extended distribution, but chiefly in Eastern North America. It has been found from the Atlantic westward to Utah, and from Florida to Fort Simpson in British America. Throughout the river bottoms of the Missouri, according to various observers, it is one of the most abundant of summer occupants, and is also to be found quite frequently as a breeder in the foot-hills west of Denver. Mr. Allen, who is our authority for this statement, believes it to be sparingly represented in this region wherever woodlands exist. In the mountains it was not observed beyond the limit of 8000 feet.

The time of its arrival is usually about the first of May, never later in the latitude of Philadelphia than the 8th, and occasionally as early as the 20th of April in certain seasons; in New England from the first to the 10th of May, but not before the last of this month in the moss-clad willows of the marshes that skirt the far Saskatchewan. The red lining of its wings as it flits through the sombre foliage of the trees in pursuit of insects renders it an object of attraction, and one to be easily recognized. Were this mark of identification wanting, its crisp, lovely notes would tell the tale of its presence, and lead the pursuer at once to its whereabouts.

The song of the Redstart resembles very closely that of the Black and White Creeper, but differs in being less prolonged, and in its quicker, sharper intonation. It may be very appropriately represented by the syllables tsi-tsi-tsiwe, the last ending rather abruptly. Its ordinary call is a simple tsich, which is heard at long and irregular intervals. Singular to say, these sounds are most frequent when the bird is most active, and not while in the enjoyment of the quietude which follows such a life. At such times our hitherto energetic friend maintains the utmost silence. Being an extremely early riser, it is in the cool, calm hours of the morning, ere all Nature is astir, that he regales the listening spirits of the groves with his sweetest music. About four o'clock he awakes from his slumber, arranges his toilet with care, and with a happy heart starts out to breakfast. But few of his neighbors are up, and for a while he has everything his own way. For nearly five hours he is a busy gleaner. Fastidious in appetite, he does not accept whatever he meets with, but prefers his viands to be of the very best that the great market of the world possesses. While beetles are devoured when other articles are not convenient, there is manifestly a strong predilection for the juicier fly and moth, or the honey-bearing aphis.