Part 4

In the fall of 1915, a violent wind-storm passed through the southern states, just grazing the edge of Spartanburg, in upper South Carolina. Here the minister of the First Presbyterian Church was about to take shelter in his home, from the fury of the wind, when he saw what appeared to be a small, black cloud swoop down upon his roof and disappear. He hastened in, and found, to his and his family's dismay, that little black birds were fairly pouring down one of the chimneys.

The birds seemed to have been stunned by the force of the gale to which they had been exposed, and the floor was soon covered, several inches deep, with their inanimate bodies. They were picked up by the bucketful, and thrown out, but soon revived and flew away, none the worse, apparently, for their unusual experience. Two little fellows who were overlooked took refuge on a curtain pole, where they were discovered by a little girl, several hours later.

This is probably the only time on record when it literally rained birds. The birds were common Chimney Swifts.--R. L. FRIPP, _Spartanburg, S. C._

A Heron's Involuntary Bath

Some of the little comedies of bird life are amusing to the onlooker, although, like those happening to human beings, not always so pleasant to the individuals participating. A neighbor of mine where I live on the shores of an island in the Great South Bay, took up his dock for the winter season and left a stake in the water. It is beneath the surface except at low tide when it projects an inch or two above. At dusk on the evening of October 23, 1915, two Black-crowned Night Herons came winging along. The one in the lead, happening to spy the top of the nearly submerged stake, immediately dropped down and appropriated it for a temporary fishing-station. Its mate, probably trusting it had landed in very shallow water, dropped down also beside it. But it kept on going down until only its head and shoulders protruded. It was a surprised bird, and stood there a few minutes in its awkward predicament, looking around as if vainly trying to grasp the situation. Then, finally giving it up, it managed to spring out and fly off.--JOHN R. TOOKER, _Babylon, Long Island_.

Winter Notes from Carlisle, Ind.

We are having a very mild winter, with heavy rains. During last week it has been warm, and numerous Robins have been here. There is a twenty-acre alfalfa field adjoining town, and some eight acres of it was mown only once and the other crop left on the ground. This makes a regular haven for the Meadow Larks, and during the past week they have been having a regular carnival. You can hear dozens of them singing at a time. There must be hundreds of them in this field. Song Sparrows have also been singing.--J. H. GILLILAND, _Carlisle, Ind._

Notes from Nebraska

What is the most abundant bird in a given locality? This a question often conjectured upon by both ornithologists and casual observers. The terms "abundant," "common," "scarce," or "very scarce," form poor records of actual abundance, as suggested in recent issues of BIRD-LORE. So, to get data on actual abundance, I took weekly bird censuses during the months of May, June, July, and a part of August, 1915, making counts of both number of species and number of individuals.

Of eight such censuses, taken during June, July, and August, in northeastern Kansas and southeastern Nebraska, Dickcissels proved to be the most abundant in six, if the exception is made of English Sparrows, which led in numbers in two censuses. This, I should say, would be the case over a large part of the middle West, of which the above-mentioned vicinities are typical.

Here are my figures on the Dickcissel:

*June 5. Sabetha, Kan., 99 individuals noted in 4-3/4 hours afield.

*June 12. Du Bois, Nebr., 64 individuals noted in 5 hours afield.

*June 19. Pawnee, Nebr., 35 individuals noted in 5 hours afield.

*June 27. Lewiston, Nebr., 109 individuals noted in 6-1/2 hours afield.

*July 5. Beatrice, Nebr., 25 individuals noted in 4-1/2 hours afield.

July 11. Beatrice, Nebr., 46 individuals noted in 6 hours afield.

July 25. Hebron, Nebr., 36 individuals noted in 3-3/4 hours afield.

*Aug. 1. Ruskin, Nebr., 39 individuals noted in 5 hours afield.

Dates preceded by an asterisk are those upon which the counts showed the Dickcissel to be the most abundant species, English Sparrows excepted. These figures indicate an average of 11-1/4 Dickcissels seen or heard per hour.

And, in spite of this prominent place the Dickcissel holds in our bird life, I have talked numbers of times with intelligent people who not only disclaim any knowledge of the bird, but say they have never heard the name 'Dickcissel' before.

On July 11, 1915, in and around Beatrice, Nebr., I counted 5,483 Blackbirds, which I am reasonably sure were Bronzed Grackles. Of this number, 5,260 were counted from one location on the bank of the Big Blue River, the flock passing continuously for about one hour. This is mentioned as being further indicative of actual abundance, and it might be suggested that, in actual numbers, the Bronzed Grackles might outweigh the Dickcissels, their immense numbers in flocks more than making up for the more uniform local distribution of the non-flocking Dickcissels.

In the May-June, 1915, number of BIRD-LORE, I note that Mr. Ridgway classes the Upland Plover as a "species verging toward extermination," speaking of it as now very scarce in southern Illinois. This bird of the prairies is still to be found in southeastern Nebraska, and I believe it could not be called very scarce in that locality. On June 27, 1915, in Pawnee County, Nebraska, I saw a flock of nine of these birds; on July 11, in Gage County, I noted one; on July 12, in Gage County, I noted eight; on July 23, in Thayer County, I noted one; and on August 1, in Nuckolls County, I saw a flock of ten.

Mr. Ridgway's description of the song of the Upland Plover is a fitting one. Its peculiar, mournful whistle _is_ "one of the most thrilling of bird songs."--HOWARD PARET, _Kansas City, Mo._

A Gannet Over the Hudson River

On October 16, 1915, I was crossing the Dyckman Street New York Ferry and observed a Gannet, which passed quite close to the ferry-boat, winging its way steadily southward toward New York Bay. It is so unusual and remarkable to find this bird away from the coast as to be worthy of record.--J. T. NICHOLS, _Englewood, N. J._

Petrels on the Hudson

The preceding note from Mr. Nichols prompts me to add that one afternoon during the first week in August, 1915 (I failed to record the exact date), I saw from the Fort Lee (130th Street) Ferry at least a score of Petrels coursing low over the water and flying down the river. They were on the east side of the river, from which I had embarked, and as the boat carried me out of vision, Petrels were still passing. Doubtless they were Wilson's Petrels which, in their search for food, had gone far above their usual limits in the lower harbor.--FRANK M. CHAPMAN, _Englewood, N. J._

Starling in Ohio

On January 8, Walter and Robert Kirk, farmer boys living near here, captured a Starling which has taken refuge in their barn. I was unable to identify the bird from their description of it over the telephone, but when it was brought to me I readily identified it, as I had been watching its progress west. Needless to say, I was somewhat surprised to see it here. BIRD-LORE Christmas census for 1914 reports it for West Chester and White Marsh Valley, Pa.

So far as I know, this is the first record of the Starling for Ohio, and it may be the first west of the Alleghany Mountains. This seems a long 'jump' westward for any bird in so short a time, especially considering the mountains it would have to cross.

I have no doubt as to the identity of the bird, but have taken photographs in case of any question.--SHERIDAN F. WOOD, _West La Fayette, Ohio_.

Evening Grosbeaks and Cardinals in Southern Wisconsin

About noon on January 22, 1916, as I was returning from a walk in South Park, a flutter of wings, accompanied by soft whistles and twitters, caught my attention and, to my surprise and joy, I counted a flock of nineteen Evening Grosbeaks in the small maple and elm trees bordering the sidewalk.

The bright sunshine falling on their plumage gave them an extremely beautiful and gay-colored appearance. The birds seemed to be nearly all males. They were quite tame, and I was able to approach close under the trees before they took to their wings, finally disappearing in a northeasterly direction. Two years ago, on one of the coldest days of the winter, a flock of about fifty visited Reedsburg and were observed by a number of our bird-lovers.

I cannot resist giving a brief account of the pair of beautiful Cardinals that have been staying in Reedsburg for the past two weeks. Although I did not have the good fortune to observe these rare visitors, yet their identity was made certain by the authoritative testimony of a number of bird-lovers who had ample opportunity to watch them closely from a curtained window, which looked out on the apple-tree and feeding-station only a few feet from the house; so there was no chance of an error in their identification. They were first seen on January 5, in the midst of a driving blizzard, with the mercury dropping to 25° below zero. The pair remained in the vicinity of the grain-strewn feeding-station for about half an hour, and have been seen a great many times since, by a large number of people.--ETHEL A. NOTT, _Reedsburg, Wisconsin_.

Evening Grosbeaks at Port Henry, N. Y.

On December 17, 1915, I saw a pair of Evening Grosbeaks.

On January 28, 1916, out over an open spot of water in Lake Champlain, I saw three Canada Geese and the men working near there told me they had been around there all the morning.

On January 7, 1916, I saw a large flock of Evening Grosbeaks.

The last two weeks I have seen many Crows as many as four in one flock.--DORA B. HARRIS, _Port Henry, N. Y._

The Evening Grosbeak at Glens Falls, N. Y.

The Bird Club of Glens Falls reports that on January 25, 1916, Miss Shields saw on one of our streets, seven Evening Grosbeaks, four males and three females.--C. EVELEEN HATHAWAY, _Secretary, Glens Falls, N. Y._

Evening Grosbeaks at Saratoga Springs, N. Y.

It gives me much pleasure to report to you that on Sunday morning, January 30, 1916, there was a flock of Evening Grosbeaks feeding in the open woodland across the street. When first seen, about twenty of the birds were sitting quietly on the upper branches of a leafless maple, the balance feeding on exposed ground between snowdrifts under the trees. There were thirty-seven birds in the flock, of which one-fourth to one-third were males in the brilliant yellow, white, and brownish black plumage. They were talking to each other softly, and the low beaded call was frequent; but I did not hear the males whistle as they used to in Wisconsin.

I called the attention of Miss Adelaide Denton (the local authority on bird-life) to the flock, and we watched them for quite some time, before they rose, took wing, and wheeling, flew to the north, and disappeared. Miss Denton had never seen Evening Grosbeaks in this territory before, although she tells me Pine Grosbeaks are fairly common winter visitors.

I have re-opened this letter to add that part of the flock have returned to this locality. Twenty-five of the Grosbeaks now being in the maples across the way.

Perhaps I should add that I am quite familiar with the Evening Grosbeaks, having observed them every winter from 1900 to 1908-9 inclusive, feeding in the box elder trees in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.--JACOLYN MANNING, M. D., _Saratoga Springs, N. Y._

The Evening Grosbeak at Boston

Any record of the Evening Grosbeak on the Atlantic coast is so very rare that it may interest the readers of BIRD-LORE to hear of a visit made to us by one on December 16, 1915.

Our bird was found in the Boston Parkway, close to the city blocks, flying about, at times rather wildly, at others, feeding tamely on the ground among the English Sparrows.

By its plumage, of which we give herewith a brief sketch, we judge it to have been a female or young bird. Head, rather dark gray; nape, yellowish green; back, pale brownish green; wings, black, interspersed with large areas of white; tail, black, with broad, white tip; chin and throat, gray; rest of under-parts pale yellowish or greenish brown; legs, pink; bill, whitish, or pale horn-color.

When at rest, the bird gave the effect of a huge winter Goldfinch; in flight, its largely white wings strongly suggested a Snow Bunting.

We heard it utter two distinctly different notes; the first a rather loud and insistent monosyllable--perhaps nearer _peep_ than any other--and the second, a peculiar little trilling call, not unlike certain notes of the Semipalmated Sandpiper.

Both as to plumage and notes, this species is very strikingly different from any other Grosbeak, of any age and either sex, in this part of the world. Its whitish beak, the yellowish green tone of its plumage, the absence of streaks, and the presence of such large areas of white in its wings and tail--not to mention the notes described above--all serve easily to distinguish this bird even from the female and young of the Pine Grosbeak, which, of all our species, most nearly resembles it.

Such other observations of this species as are made, this winter, thus far east, we hope to see recorded in BIRD-LORE.--E. G. and R. E. ROBBINS, _Brookline, Mass._

Evening Grosbeaks at Poughkeepsie

On the afternoon of February 17, 1916, I observed seven Evening Grosbeaks feeding on locust seeds at our farm just outside of Poughkeepsie. They returned on the morning of the 20th, when they were also seen by Mr. Allen Frost, Prof. Saunders and Prof. Ellen Freeman, both of Vassar College, and Miss S. Dean, a student, who confirmed my identification. As I believe this is a record for Dutchess County, it seems worth reporting.--GEORGE W. GRAY, _Greenvale, Poughkeepsie, N. Y._

Evening Grosbeaks in Lexington, Mass.

Although Evening Grosbeaks may very probably have visited Lexington during the flights of 1880-1890 and 1910-1911, there was no satisfactory record of the bird for the town until Mr. Francis S. Dane saw a bird near his house on December 31, 1915. This bird proved to be a member of a flock of eleven Grosbeaks, all in the plumage of the female. For a week or ten days this company remained in the vicinity of where the first bird was seen, the number of individuals varying somewhat; the maximum being eleven. Two fruited box elder trees were the attraction to the locality. So regular were their visits to these trees that observers could rely almost with certainty on finding the birds in one or the other of the trees (they were some two hundred yards apart) at eleven o'clock in the morning.

At all times, the Grosbeaks showed the fearlessness of man so characteristic of Pine Grosbeaks and the Crossbills, but their tameness was especially noticeable when the flock was busily feeding. The birds then appeared to disregard the presence of a party of observers; we could approach them closely, and see very satisfactorily their method of extracting the seeds.

The seeds of the box elder grow in pairs on a single stem, each seed having a wing. In the winter, however, the seed in its covering with the attached wing, having broken away from the stem, hangs from it only by a thread. It is an easy matter, therefore, for the Grosbeak to break off a single seed. Having detached it from the stem (to do this the bird merely leans downward and pulls off the husk and its wing), the Grosbeak cuts through the husk as far as the kernel and allows the wing to drop to the ground; this it does with a fluttering motion suggestive of a small moth. The remainder, the whole kernel and perhaps two-thirds of the husk, the Grosbeak mumbles in his bill, and in an incredibly short time discards from the sides of his beak the more or less macerated remains of the husk. Some of these particles fall to the ground, some cling for a time to the beak. The bird swallows the kernel. Upon examining the wings which the birds had clipped off, it was apparent that the birds had bitten directly over the kernel itself at a point rather nearer the wing than the center of the kernel. But, although by this incision the kernel was exposed, it was never severed and allowed to fall with the wing, as would have been the case had the beak been closed and the bite completed. The cutting process was always arrested at the point after the casing had been divided, but before the meat has been severed. All this, although the process involved the nicest precision, was accomplished with great rapidity,--the wing fluttering to the ground within a second or two after the fruit was plucked from the stem.

The big birds are curiously inconspicuous when feeding in a box elder tree; their color harmonizes very closely with the dull grayish brown of the faded wings of the fruit, and, as the birds are for the most part silent, a feeding flock might easily be passed unnoticed. In spite of their quiet manner, however, the Grosbeaks are ever on the alert, as was shown when a large bird flew near them. They whirled away, panic stricken, giving their loud 'kerp' call.

On January 8, the flock of eleven female birds was replaced by a flock of eight Grosbeaks, two males and six females. These latter were all distinctly grayer than any of the individuals of the first flock, whose plumage was washed strongly with yellow. This second flock has remained to the present time, February 19, feeding first upon the box elder seeds until the two trees were practically stripped of fruit, then visiting a Japanese crab-apple tree loaded with minute apples, from which the birds obtained the seeds by munching off the pulp and discarding it. The flock has suffered the loss of two female birds (they were probably caught by a cat); otherwise the company has remained intact for six weeks. As in the case of the original flock, these birds fed early in the morning, again at about 11 A. M., and were rarely seen in the afternoon. On one occasion, they left the feeding-ground by mounting high in the air and taking a long, direct flight to the westward. Besides the box elder and crab-apple seeds, the birds have eaten wild-cherry pits, poison-ivy berries, and gray-birch seeds.

Evening Grosbeaks have been seen this season at several points in eastern Massachusetts. Mrs. Lidian E. Bridge kindly sent me a report of a flock which visited her place in West Medford, four birds on February 8 and 9. These birds fed upon the berries of the honeysuckle, mountain ash, and red cedar.

The large number of observers who came from a radius of ten miles to see these rare Grosbeaks demonstrated how great the interest in birds is at the present time. For nearly two months, several visitors came every day at the appointed time, and on Sundays and holidays the number often reached thirty or more. The total number of persons who saw the birds must have been hundreds. And each one, thanks to Audubon Societies and proper education in out-of-doors studies, came armed with a glass instead of a gun.--WINSOR M. TYLER, M. D., _Lexington, Mass._

Evening Grosbeaks in Vermont

On February 14, 1916, we were visited by a flock of nine Evening Grosbeaks, which were feeding on the buds of sugar maple in a grove of these trees near our place.

These birds were quite tame, allowing me to look at them through my field-glass at a distance of three rods, making identification positive.

I heard their call note and saw three of these birds at a distance on January 31.

On December 8, one was seen and heard too far away to note its markings.--L. H. POTTER, _Clarendon, Vermont_.

Evening Grosbeaks in Connecticut

I wish to report a thrilling experience which I had this morning.

At ten o'clock, I glanced from my window, and saw White-breasted Nuthatches on the bird-shelf, Chickadees, Hairy Woodpeckers, a Brown Creeper, and Blue Jays, close by on two maples, a flock of English Sparrows gleaning on the ground, and two strange birds picking up their breakfast on the outskirts, but a few feet from the window.

The two rare visitors proved to be Evening Grosbeaks. They came toward me, went away from me, turned about and displayed themselves in every light, and finally flew to a spruce tree on the other side of the house, where for about five minutes they gave every opportunity to study them at close range.

The large white patches on the wings and white tips on the dark tail feathers were very prominent.

The yellow forehead with black crown, the heavy bill, and the body of a soft yellow color, black wings and tail, made identification very easy.

I presume these little strangers will be heard from in other parts of Connecticut.--MARY HAZEN ARNOLD.

[The context shows that this observation was made in Connecticut, but the observer does not give her address.--ED.]

Martin Problems

I should like those readers of BIRD-LORE who have accurately observed the habits of the Purple Martin to tell me if my experience of the past summer is a common one and what it means. For several years I have had a Martin house of ten rooms, only one room of which has ever been occupied and that always the west attic. This year (1915) on May 22, after visiting a short time several times a day for a week, three Martins, one male and two females, finally located in the house. June 1 the birds began carrying nesting material into both west and east attic rooms. The male seemed to work in the west room only, and one day was seen taking in green cherry leaves from a nearby tree. Only one male bird was ever seen about the house, so I concluded that this was a polygamous family.

The east room was not easy of observation, so I could not be sure of all that took place there, but know that it was occupied by a female all summer and that a nest was built. The male seemed to sleep in the west room, both birds going in at dusk. When incubation began, the male occupied one of the south rooms. July 7, a young Martin was found dead under the house on the west side.

He was very tiny, and could not have been more than a day old at most. His neck was as thin as a darning needle but his stomach was as large as a hickory nut, and just as hard. Thinking the bird abnormal, I opened the stomach only to find everything right, the abdomen being big and hard because of the great number of bugs and flies it contained. July 16 I went out of the city, so did not see the young leave the house. For several days previous to this, a baby Martin was constantly at the door, and I believe there was only one young bird.

My last year's family consisted of only two young birds, but one of which lived to fly from the house.

Neither eggs nor birds were found in the east room. Now, was this a polygamous family, or was it one pair of Martins and a non-mating female? Might it not have been my family of last year? I will appreciate answers from readers of BIRD-LORE.--(MRS.) MAY S. DANNER, _Canton, Ohio_.

A Bold Winter Wren