Part 8

In the higher order of legends—in those which record facts or dim histories of exceeding antiquity, or in which are embalmed the deeds of the remote hero, though even more faded than his features on the mouldering wall or the faded marble—young America pleads her youth. But not without product—and as that which has been shall be again, as legends and traditions like to those of other nations will very probably be amongst the results of American mind, there is one American name, perhaps as yet one only, which may become mythical or even now is. When thousands of years shall have rolled away, and the annals of the present age shall be known only to the scholar and the antiquary of those times in precious scraps and fragments, the adjusting of which shall require the skilfulness of learning, some future Lepsius or Layard may recognise in a wise Minos or in a just Nemesis, the American Washington.

The Republic of the United States has acquired its position as a nation, and in fact has existed only in an age of enlightenment, and the universal attention to education and the diffusion of general knowledge which happily has ever prevailed in a degree not exceeded in any country, has necessarily prevented in a great measure the forming of orally transmitted histories or of legendary fables, and there being no ruins of buildings nor other evidences of the decay of past ages, our people do not associate with ideas of desolation, animals which might have found suitable habitations in such localities, nor have they attributed traditional associations or characters.

We have no birds of ill omen, and even the long-defamed Owl has escaped his usual reputation; not that he is regarded with favor, rather the reverse; but for other reason than attributed connexion with supernatural agents; nor is his appearance in the neighborhood of the farm-house or the settler’s cabin regarded as at all ominous, except of immediate danger to whatever of the domestic poultry may have attracted his attention, or in any degree foreboding, unless of his own abrupt demise in case he happens to be observed by the proprietor, having at hand his trusty rifle or fowling-piece. The owl takes the greater risk in such an adventure.

On account, in some measure, of their peculiar forms, particularly their large heads and staring eyes, their nocturnal habits, and their habitually resorting in the day-time to secluded haunts in the forest or other little-frequented localities, no animals have been more invariably regarded as of evil portent than owls. And in this character they have found a place in the literature, and especially the poetry, of nearly all nations ancient and modern. The Latin writers seldom fail to mention the appearance of the owl among the omens and prodigies which they frequently enumerate as having preceded disasters to the state or to distinguished personages. Pliny in his Natural History, gravely devotes a chapter to Inauspicious Birds, and gives the owl a post of distinction in this manner: “The owl, a dismal bird, and very much dreaded in public auguries, inhabits deserts which are not only desolate, but dreary and inaccessible: it is a monster of night, nor does it possess any voice but a groan. Thus, when it is seen in towns or in daylight, it is an omen to be dreaded.” Book x., chapter 12. The poets give him the same reputation, but perhaps only in the legitimate exercise of their art. The poet is privileged in the entire domain of nature, and Virgil and Shakspeare have forever commemorated, though somewhat infamously, the Owl. The former alludes to it as one of numerous precursors of the death of Dido:

“Solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo Sæpe queri, et longas in fletum ducere voces.”

“Whilst lonely on the roof, night’s bird prolongs The notes of woe, and shrieks funereal songs.”

Shakspeare uses the Owl in the same capacity of direful portent. Thus Casca, in allusion to omens preceding the death of Cæsar:

“And yesterday, the bird of night did sit Even at noon-day upon the market-place Hooting and shrieking:”

and in Macbeth he introduces its cry as an accompaniment of the murder of Duncan:

“Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shrieked, The fatal bellman, which giv’st the stern’st good-night. He is about it:”

and again in Henry the Sixth:

“The owl shriek’d at thy birth; an evil sign; The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time, Dogs howl’d, and hideous tempests shook down trees.”

Shakspeare has various other passages of much the same tenor, and so have many other poets of the English and other languages; but, as we can say truly with Cowper (in Task):

“The jay, the pie, and e’en the boding owl, That hails the rising moon, have charms for _us_,”

we have no intention at all of making out a strong case of bad reputation against him, even from the poets. We ought to say, though, that he has borne this reputation much more recently than the time of Pliny, and in some countries of the old world has scarcely yet attained a character of entire respectability. There might be a difficulty, however, in deciding which is the more remarkable, the things said of him, or the gravity of the sayer. A writer, cited in Brand’s Popular Antiquities, says to the point: “In the year 1542, at Herbipolis or Wirtzburg, in Franconia, this unlucky bird by his screeching songs affrighted the citizens a long time together, and immediately followed a great plague, war, and other calamities. About twenty years ago, I did observe that in the house where I lodged, an Owl groaning in the window presaged the death of two eminent persons who died there shortly after.” Another, bringing the matter to a more general bearing, says: “If an owl, which is reckoned a most abominable and unlucky bird, send forth its hoarse and dismal voice, it is an omen of the approach of something: that some dire calamity and some great misfortune is near at hand.” And amongst many similar stories, it is related by an old author, that when a Duke of Cleves was suffering with the disease of which he afterwards died, an Owl was seen and heard frequently upon the palace of Cleves in the day-time, and could scarcely be driven away. Very wonderful, but not calculated for the present meridian, and happily rather out of date generally. It would scarcely suit the citizens of our frontier States to regard in any such aspect the nightly serenades of the Great Horned Owl, though performed in a style entirely appropriate.

Other nations, and some more ancient than the Romans, also regarded the Owl with various degrees of superstition. In Egypt, at one period, an image of an Owl transmitted by the supreme authority to a subject, was an intimation in established form, that the latter would particularly oblige his sovereign by immediately committing suicide. With which civil invitation, compliance, at earliest convenience, appears to have been necessary, not entirely as a matter of mere politeness, but to save himself from aspersions as a man of honor and a gentleman. An instance is related by Diodorus Siculus, in which a person placed in such a dilemma and manifesting some repugnance and uncourtly backwardness, was put to death by one of his parents to save their house from disgrace.

But the people of the present day have been favored to live in an age characterized in all Christian countries by the diffusion of truth and the progress of intellectual cultivation, and in which, as a peculiar feature, the physical sciences especially have tended to dispel the mists of ages. In accordance with the spirit of it, modern writers rarely resort to the adoption, even in poetic composition, of ungrounded popular errors. Thus, with no such implication, Coleridge, in Christabel, introduces the Owl in an opening chorus:

“’Tis the middle of the night by the castle-clock, And the owls have awakened the crowing cock. Tu—whit!—tu-whoo! And hark again! the crowing cock How drowsily he crew.”

And beautiful too is the allusion to the Owl by Longfellow, in Hyperion: “For the owl is a grave bird; a monk who chants midnight mass in the great temple of Nature.”

Kirtland’s Owl, which we present to our readers in the plate now before us, is one of the most recent additions to the Ornithological Fauna of this country, and was first brought to notice by Philo R. Hoy, M. D., an eminent naturalist and physician of Racine, Wisconsin, who has ascertained its occurrence, and has succeeded in obtaining several specimens in the neighborhood of that city.

It appears, however, to be by no means a common species, though having been observed in the season of incubation, as well as in the winter, it may be presumed to be a constant resident, and further investigation may bring to light full details of its history. It belongs to a group composed of several species of small owls, found in the northern regions of both continents, the most common of which, in this country, is the little Acadian Owl (_Nyctale acadica_), a curious and rather handsome little species not very well known in the rural districts, but sometimes occurring, and also occasionally captured, in the cities. It is the least of the owls of the Atlantic States. Another species is known as Tengmalm’s Owl (_N. Tengmalmii_), which inhabits the higher northern latitudes of America and Europe.

Like the other small species of its family, the present Owl probably subsists on the smaller birds and quadrupeds and on insects. The last form no inconsiderable portion of the food of the smaller Owls. We have repeatedly found the remains of insects in the stomachs of several species; and in 1851, during the period of the appearance of the Seventeen-year Locust (_Cicada septemdecim_) in the neighborhood of Philadelphia, we enjoyed an opportunity, in company with several members of the Academy of Natural Sciences of this city, of observing the common Red Owl (_Ephialtes asio_) while engaged in feeding on insects of that remarkable species. It captured them principally in an apple-tree in which it was first noticed, but occasionally pursued its object to the ground, and with a degree of adroitness and avidity which fully evinced that it had been accustomed to similar occupation.

Dr. Hoy’s description of the species now before us was first published in the Proceedings of the Philadelphia Academy, VI. p. 211, (Dec. 1852,) from which we make the following extract:

“But two specimens of this bird have been taken, to my knowledge; the first was captured in October 1851, and kept until winter, when it made its escape; the second, that from which the above description was taken, flew into an open shop, July 1852. It is strictly nocturnal, utters a low tremulous note, and is an active and efficient mouser.”

We have been informed by Dr. Hoy that during the past summer (1853,) he had succeeded in obtaining another specimen which proved to be a female. It is slightly larger than the male, but similar in all other respects.

The figures in our plate represent the male bird, and are about two-thirds of the size of life.

DESCRIPTION AND TECHNICAL OBSERVATIONS.

Genus Nyctale. Brehm, Handb. Nat. Vog. Deutschlands, p. 111, (1831.)

Size, small. Bill rather weak and almost concealed by projecting plumes at its base, strongly curved and sharp. Wings moderate, rounded, with the third and fourth quills nearly equal and longest; tail moderate, tarsi short, and with the toes densely clothed with hair-like feathers; claws rather long, slender, and very sharp. Type N. _Tengmalmii_ (Gmelin).

Nyctale Kirtlandii. Hoy, Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci., Philada., VI. p. 210, (Dec., 1852.)

Form. Small, but compact, wing with the fourth quill slightly longest, tarsi and toes fully feathered, claws slender, sharp.

Dimensions of a skin from Dr. Hoy. Male, total length from tip of bill to end of tail, about 7 inches; wing, 5¼; tail, 3 inches. “Extent of wings, 16 inches,” (Dr. Hoy.) Female, rather larger.

Colors. Male. Head and upper portion of breast, and entire upper parts dark chocolate-brown; front and eye-brows white, and a line of the same color extending downwards from the base of the lower mandible; ear feathers behind the eye darkest; primaries with white spots on their outer margins forming three irregular bars, and with circular spots of white on their inner webs; tail rather darker than the back, narrowly tipped with white, and having two bands composed of spots of white.

Entire under parts of the body, tarsi and toes, reddish-ochre-yellow; bill and claws black, iris-yellow.

Hab. State of Wisconsin. Spec. in Mus. Acad. Philada., and in Dr. Hoy’s coll. Racine, Wisconsin.

Obs. This little Owl is strictly congeneric with _Nyctale Harrisii_ Cassin. Proc. Philada. Acad. IV. p. 157, (Feb. 1849,) and Journal of the same society, Quarto II., plate V., but different in size and color. _N. Harrisii_ is the same as _Ciccaba gisella_ Bonaparte, Cons. Av. p. 44, (1850.)

The present bird also resembles, in some degree, _Strix frontalis_ Lichtenstein, described in a Fauna of California, in Transactions of the Berlin Academy, 1838, p. 430.

EMBERNAGRA BLANDINGIANA.—(Gambel.) Blanding’s Finch. PLATE XII.—Adult Male.

Blanding’s Finch was discovered in the Rocky mountains by Dr. Gambel, and named by him in honor of one of the most universally respected of American naturalists and friends of science, William Blanding, M. D., formerly a resident of Philadelphia, but now of Providence, Rhode Island. During many years of previous residence in South Carolina, Dr. Blanding omitted no opportunity of facilitating by observation and active exertion in contributing to collections, the advancement of the interests of Natural Science in all its departments, and he has been deservedly complimented by naturalists whose studies he has been the means of promoting, and with whom personally he has for many years maintained relations of the most friendly character. Many of the cultivators of Natural History in America owe much to the advice and encouragement of Dr. Blanding, and among such we gratefully include ourselves.

This bird belongs to a group of which several species are known to inhabit Mexico and South America, and of which one other species is a summer visitor to Texas. All of them are birds of handsome and even elegant general appearance and color of plumage, and partake much of the inoffensive habits of other birds of the family to which they belong, and which includes the Finches and Sparrows. Subsisting for the greater part on seeds, much of their time is passed on the ground, or in undergrowths of shrubbery in the immediate vicinity of fields and meadows, or other grass-bearing localities.

We regard the present species as the handsomest Bird of the family of Sparrows yet discovered in the United States, and regret that it is not in our power to lay before our readers an account of it at all full or satisfactory, little having been placed on record, or having otherwise come to our knowledge, beyond the fact that it inhabits sparingly the Rocky mountains, California and northern Texas. It is probably one of the many species which migrate in summer to those countries from Mexico, and even further southward, as is the case with the greater part of the numerous species of birds which are summer-residents in the eastern portion of this continent. Not more than three specimens of this bird have been brought home in the many extensive collections made by the various naturalists who have visited the countries where it is found, from which we must necessarily infer at present that it is one of the rarest of the birds of California and the Rocky mountains, though more abundant in Texas.

From Dr. Gambel’s paper containing his description of this bird, published in the Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, I. p. 260, (April 1843,) and subsequently in the Journal of the same society, I. p. 51 (Quarto), we extract the following:

“Of this new and singularly marked species, I procured a single specimen only, in September, on the bank of a small stream in the Rocky mountains, about half-way between New Mexico and the Colorado of the West. It kept in low bushes, in company with _Fringilla guttata_, and _F. graminea_, occasionally uttering a single chirp. The throat and breast of this species very much resemble those of _Fringilla Pennsylvanica_.”

Dr. Woodhouse procured, also, one specimen, only, during Capt. Sitgreaves’ Expedition to the Zuñi, and Colorado rivers, respecting which he observes: “Whilst encamped on the Rio Salado, near San Antonio, Texas, in the beginning of April, I procured a solitary specimen of this beautiful and interesting bird. Its favorite haunts seemed to be the low bushes in the vicinity of the creek; this was the only one that I observed east of the Rio Grande. In the Zuni mountain, and in the vicinity of the _pueblo_ of Zuñi, it was quite abundant.” (Report of an Expedition down the Zuñi and Colorado rivers, by Capt. L. Sitgreaves, of the Topographical Engineer Corps, U. S. Army, Washington, 1853. Zoology, p. 85.)

It was also seen by Dr. Heermann, in California.

Our figure is that of a male, and is about two-thirds of the natural size.

The plant represented, is _Nuttallia digitata_, a native of California.

DESCRIPTION AND TECHNICAL OBSERVATIONS.

Genus Embernagra. Lesson Traité d’Orn, p. 465, (1851.)

Bill, moderate, conic; wings, short, rounded, usually with the fifth and sixth quills slightly longest; tail, lengthened, rounded at the tip; tarsi and toes, lengthened, strong; claws, short, curved. A genus of birds related to _Zonotrichia_, and containing several species, all of which are American.

Embernagra Blandingiana. (Gambel.) Fringilla Blandingiana. Gamb., Proc. Acad. Philada. I. p. 260, (April, 1843) Fringilla chlorura. Aud. Orn. Biog. V. p. 336?

Form. Rather robust, bill strong, wing short, second, third and fourth quills nearly equal, third slightly longest, tail rather long, legs and feet strong, claws well developed, that on the hind toe large.

Dimensions. Adult. Total length (of skin) from tip of bill to end of tail, about 7 inches; wing, 3⅛; tail, 3¼ inches.

Colors. Head, above, fine rufous chestnut. All other upper parts, yellowish green, tinged with ashy. Throat, white, which color is bordered on each side by a line of ashy black. Sides of the neck, the breast and sides of the body, and flanks, light cinereous, tinged with ochre on the latter and under tail coverts. Middle of the lower part of breast, and of the abdomen, white. Wing, at its flexure and under wing coverts, yellow. Quills and tail-feathers, light greenish yellow on their outer webs.

Hab. California and Texas. Spec. in Mus. Acad. Philada., and Nat. Mus. Washington.

Obs. This species resembles somewhat several others which are natives of the Southern extreme of North America, though not sufficiently to be readily confounded with either of them.

The description of _Fringilla chlorura_, Aud. in Orn. Biog. V. p. 336, consists of extracts of letters from Dr. Townsend, in which a bird is described, of which he procured no specimens, but evidently like the present, in some respects, but not with sufficient precision to be determined. He represents it as “a true _Fringilla_. The head of light brownish color spotted with dusky, back varied with dusky and greenish olive, rump brownish spotted with dusky, &c.” Our present bird is by no means a true Fringilla, nor does the description otherwise apply to it with such degree of probability as to be relied on.

CARPODACUS FAMILIARIS.—M‘Call. The American House-Finch. PLATE XIII.—Male and Female.

When the winter of our northern climes has abated its rigors, and the season of brighter skies and returning flowers approaches, none of its early tokens are welcomed with more pleasing associations, than the reappearance of those familiar birds, which, like the Wren, the Blue Bird, and the Pewee Flycatcher, come pleasantly into the immediate vicinity of our dwellings, to select accommodations for the construction of their nests, and for rearing their young. They share the hospitality of the splendid mansion and the humble cottage, and are made welcome alike in each.

Of birds of this description, no species is more remarkable for its confiding disposition, than the little Finch now before the reader, and which is a native of the western countries of North America. It not only approaches the abodes of men without hesitation, and occupies habitually the suitable parts of houses and other buildings, but resorts in large numbers to such uncongenial localities as one might think them, as towns and cities. In several of those in New Mexico, and California, this bird is very abundant, and is a great favorite.

Several species of the same genus to which the present belongs, all of which present considerable similarity, inhabit northern countries of this continent, and others are found in the same latitudes of the old world. The males of all the species are clothed in plumage of fine crimson, or of purple of various and delicate shades, when they have attained maturity. The females are however of much plainer appearance, and generally present little similarity of color to their more gay consorts. The Purple Finch (_Carpodacus purpureus_) is the best-known American bird of this group. It is common as a winter visitor in the middle and southern States, and at that season its habits are such only as are adapted to a roving life in the woods. It retires in the spring to the northern states, and the mountains of Pennsylvania, and is there regarded with much favor on account of the beauty of its plumage and its agreeable song.

A species of the old world (_C. erythrinus_), which is one of several that are natives of northern Russia, of Siberia and Kamtschatka, is very similar in its general appearance to the Purple Finch, and, like it too, it has an extensive range of migration, appearing throughout European and Asiatic Russia, and the northern countries of India. Of the Asiatic species, one is remarkable for having been discovered on Mount Sinai, by an European naturalist, and in reference to that fact, has been named by him the Sinai Finch (_Carpodacus sinaiticus_.)

Our present bird appears to be the species alluded to by Dr. Gambel as the crimson-fronted Finch, _Erythrospiza frontalis_ (Say), in the Journal of the Philadelphia Academy, Quarto, I. p. 53, in the following passage: “This handsome songster we first observed in New Mexico, particularly about Sante Fé, where it is an abundant and familiar resident, keeping about the _corrals_ and gardens, and building its nest under the portals and sheds of the houses. In July the young were ready to fly, which must have been a second brood, or else they begin to lay much later than in California. Under a long shed or _portal_, in the Plaza or Square of Sante Fé, they had a great many nests; and the old birds would sometimes fly down about our feet while sitting at the doors, to pick up crumbs, &c. for their young.