Part 6

While one is incubating, it does not appear that her partner is compelled to play the part of a purveyor of food. Careful examinations have never enabled us to detect the least evidence thereof. When either party is tired, or is severely pressed by hunger, the other is summoned to the spot, to receive the charge of affairs. Thus the business goes on for eighteen weary days, when the happy parents are blessed with a jolly little family.

The young are not the mere helpless creatures such as we have all along been describing, but as active beings, for the age, as it is possible to conceive of. Clad in silken robes of drab, with beautiful stripes of black adown the back, they constitute a merry, rollicking group of birdies. The world to them is a paradise of beauty, and a garden-spot of pleasure. As soon as they leave the shell, they run with remarkable speed, and otherwise exhibit a precocity which seems unnatural at that period of life. Feeding, like running, is instinctive. It cannot be that it is learned by imitation, any more than the exercise of the cursorial powers can be said to be thus acquired.

Although much of the trouble and care which birds generally bestow upon their offspring are thus saved to these fortunate parents, yet the power to discriminate between bad and good food, has to be learned by attention to the commands and actions of wiser heads. The young are not slow to profit from parental suggestions and instruction, for we find them, at the expiration of a fortnight, engaged in foraging with the judgment and adroitness of adults.

Few species exhibit symptoms of greater distress than these Sandpipers when their breeding-grounds are approached by human beings. The parents resort to every conceivable stratagem in order to draw the intruders away. Counterfeiting lameness, and fluttering along the ground with seeming difficulty, are two of the most characteristic devices which they practise for this purpose. But the appearance of a dog considerably heightens the agitation. It is very interesting to watch the actions of the female on such occasions. In order to lead him away from her terrified young, she throws herself before him, flutters away in a contrary direction, but always managing to keep out of the reach of danger. This she continues for some time, until the animal has been drawn to a considerable distance, when she throws off the garb of dissimulation, and takes to flight, leaving her pursuer standing stock-still and gazing with astonishment and disappointment at the remarkable transformation which has just been effected. While all this has been going on, the young have scurried away to places of shelter and security, where they are afterwards joined by their beloved parent, glad to have escaped so fearful a calamity, and grateful for such a happy deliverance.

A more substantial proof of the affection of this female for its young could hardly be imagined than that which Wilson gives on the authority of Mr. William Bartram. The scene of action is described as being on the river shore, and the occasion, the repeated attempts made by a ground squirrel to capture two young birds which a parent was trying to defend. In order to ward off the assaults of the squirrel, she had thrown her two young behind her. At every attempt of the animal to seize them by a circuitous sweep, she would raise her wings almost perpendicularly, assume the most formidable expression of which she was capable, rush forward upon the squirrel, who, intimidated by the boldness of her manner, would beat a precipitate retreat. The enemy, recovering from his defeat, would presently return, and renew the attack, but to be ingloriously driven back as before. The young, as though sensible of their perilous situation, would crowd together behind their protector, and shift their position as she advanced or retreated. This interesting scene continued for at least ten minutes, when the strength of the poor parent was observed to flag. The squirrel perceiving his advantage, became more daring, increased the frequency of his assaults, and would have gained an easy victory had not Mr. Bartram stepped forward from his hiding-place and drove him back to his hole, and thus rescued the innocent.

The eggs of this species are usually abruptly pyriform, of a yellowish-buff ground-color, and are marked with blotches and spots of umber and sienna, which are collected chiefly about the greater extremity, where they are sometimes confluent. Occasionally, some specimens present a more elongated form, and others have the primary color of a yellowish-drab tint, with the markings of a deeper shade. The dimensions vary somewhat in a large collection from widely-separated localities. The largest measure 1.41 by .99 of an inch, and the smallest 1.25 by .94. Considering the size of the bird, they seem to be out of all proportion.

Plate XII.--SPIZELLA SOCIALIS, Bonaparte.--Chipping Sparrow.

|The Chipping Sparrow, so familiar to everybody, is not only one of the most abundant, but also one of the most widely diffused of all our species. It is found from the Atlantic to the Pacific in its two races, and breeds from Georgia to Nova Scotia on our eastern seaboard, and from Vera Cruz, Mexico, northward through Arizona, Utah and California. Although obtained at different seasons of the year in all portions of North America to Mexico, it is a strange and remarkable fact that its breeding-grounds are not equally extensive.

Large numbers of these birds annually winter in the valley of the Colorado, and thence doubtless spread themselves over the whole Pacific region, as far north as Fort Resolution, on Great Slave Lake. In the East they may be seen in companies of a hundred or more from October to April through Northern Georgia and South Carolina, and possibly in the Gulf States.

On the return of mild weather, which generally follows the vernal equinox, these flocks forsake in a measure their winter homes, and journey northward. Those from Northern Mexico pursue a northwesterly course, reaching Arizona about the twenty-fourth of March, where a part remain to breed; but the greater portion pass up the valley of the Colorado, and after receiving fresh accessions to their number, continue their migratory course until they have reached their destination. On the other hand, our Eastern variety tarries longer in the South, and only takes its departure when Nature, awakened from her winter sleep in our Northern States, has begun to put on her charming robe of green. But unlike its Western brother, it arrives in pairs, and never with the show and pomp of a large army. The tardiness of vegetation, and the paucity of insect life incident thereto, have doubtless much to do with the time and manner of its coming. In the Middle States this event happens during the last week of April, and in New England about the fifteenth, but the birds do not seem to become very abundant in the latter section until the beginning of May.

The Field and Song Sparrows, near relatives, are much earlier comers, and are already in full song, making the groves and fields vocal with praises, long before the Chippy has made his appearance. But when the latter does arrive, we must look for his presence in our gardens and orchards, rather than along the borders of thickets, where he commends himself to our favor and esteem by his tameness and sociability. About our doorsides he loves to glean his fare, and when an opportunity offers, will often enter our houses during meal-times. So accustomed to man does the species become, that individuals have been known to present themselves regularly for food, as often as thrice a day, and even to accept the same from human hands.

The male is so absorbed in feeding during the first ten days of his stay that no attempt at singing is made. His only note then is a simple _chip_, indicative of unrest. This is slowly uttered, and at somewhat measured intervals. But later, he essays a song, and throughout the month of roses, his unpretending ditty, which consists of a repetition of the same sound, is kept up for hours together with scarce an intermission. Though poor his reputation as a singer, yet individuals have actually been known to sing, and very sweetly, too, but such cases are wholly exceptional, _et lusus naturae_. Mr. Flagg, in speaking of the male, says, "He seems to be the sentinel whom Nature has appointed to watch for the first glimmerings of dawn, which he always faithfully announces before any other bird is awake. Two or three strains from his octave pipe are the signal for a general awaking of the birds, and one by one they join the song, until the whole air resounds with an harmonious medley of voices." Again, says the same happy writer, "His continued trilling note is to the warbling band of morning musicians which may be heard before sunrise during May and June like the octave flute as heard in a grand concert of artificial instruments."

The singing of the males is the inauguration of a new era in bird-life. The search for food no longer engrosses the attention as of yore, but the all-absorbing passion of love. The sexes cease their solitary wanderings. The females, moved by the touching appeals of the males, leave their native haunts, and join their masculine companions. All is now a scene of bustle and activity. The wooer and the wooed meet and lavish upon each other the most endearing attentions. Happiness reigns supreme. But the acme of felicity has not yet been reached. This is brought about by degrees, and is only perfectly attained when conjugal relationship is assumed.

In some parts of the country this important business is entered into as early as the fifteenth of May, but in others it is necessarily deferred until the succeeding month. The event is unattended by any peculiar demonstrations of joy, and is mostly celebrated in a matter-of-fact, businesslike way; the happy couple proceeding at once to an exploration of the surrounding scenery for a suitable place in which to build a home. This is a matter of little moment, as almost any small tree or low bush is available for the purpose. The nest is never placed on the ground, even in Arctic regions, where so many of our tree-builders vary from this custom to nidificate on the ground. In the vicinity of houses,' small trees, shrubbery and vines are utilized; but in pasture grounds, and on the borders of small thickets, the common red-cedar is chosen. Having selected a suitable site, both birds apply themselves to the task of building for a period of four or five days, when a neat and rather cosy structure is the result. Considerable variation is discernible in the architecture of different individuals. Some nests are rudely constructed, and rather loose and tenuous. Others have much of periphery, but little of thickness and internal depth.

A typical nest is hemispherical, neatly but loosely built, and possesses a cavity very symmetrical in contour. It is usually composed on the outside, except in rare cases, of fine rootlets, and is lined with black and white horse-hairs. In a beautiful domicile before us very few roots are noticeable, the bulk of the fabric being composed of horse-hairs, densely and compactly interwoven, and covered exteriorly with a few fine twigs and lint. Other nests before us are built entirely of fine rootlets. When such structures are found in bushes, and are well secured and protected by enveloping leaves and twigs, a curious anomaly often presents itself. A case of the kind came under our observation in August, 1876. Since that time others have been met with. It is where the nest, instead of occupying a nearly horizontal position, which is the natural one, is placed at an angle of inclination, and bears in the superior third a circular opening. What the object of this aperture can be, it is impossible to say, as the bird could never be surprised while on the nest. Possibly it was designed for the accommodation of the head of the owner while the process of incubation was going on; or, it may have been intended as a mode of ingress and egress, which opinion the position of the nest and its surroundings would seem to warrant.

One of the most curious and exceptional nests which we have ever seen, was obtained in the summer of 1870, in Northumberland Co., Pa. This nest was built upon a small bush, at an elevation of two feet above the ground. Externally, it is composed of dried plants, of an herbaceous character, with seed vessels intact. Internally, there is a slight lining of white horse-hairs. The diameter, on the outside, measures nearly four inches, and the thickness three and a half inches. The diameter of the cavity is three inches, and the depth nearly two. It is a magnificent structure, closely and compactly woven, and exactly hemispherical.

The drawing represents the usual style of nest. The position upon a branch of the red-cedar is one that is frequently chosen. The outside is mainly composed of fine roots of a reddish-brown color, and the inside of an equal mixture of white and black horse-hairs. The dimensions are as follows: External diameter, three inches; internal, two and a quarter inches; depth inside, three-fourths, and outside, one and an eighth inches.

The nest being finished, oviposition commences on the ensuing day, and proceeds at the rate of one egg daily, until the entire number is laid. This varies from three to five, even in the same locality. Incubation commences on the day after the last deposit has been made, and continues for a period of ten days. It is chiefly the duty of the female, although the male occasionally lends his assistance by taking the nest. When not thus occupied, he either polices the premises to guard against intrusion, or is away in search of food. When with young both birds become devoted parents, and evince the greatest anxiety and consternation when their nest is disturbed.

Their actions at such times bespeak fear rather than courage. We have never known them to assume the threatening attitude which characterizes so many of our small species, nor seek to drive intruders away by sharp scoldings and angry gesticulations. But knowing that resistance would be useless, they quietly submit to circumstances, and repair to other scenes where they think to be secure from molestation and harm in carrying out the chief object of their being.

The young are fed at first on various larvæ, especially those of a lepidopterous character. To these, earth-worms, aphides, beetles and flies are added as condition and age require. When twelve days old they are persuaded to leave the nest, and, under the direction of the paternal sire, receive instruction in bird-lore. A period of eight or nine days more, and they earn their own living. They do not forsake their parents, however, but follow them into their old hunting-grounds, and thus help to constitute the small flocks which are generally observed in the fall of the year in our Eastern and Middle States, previous to migration.

The eggs are oblong-oval in shape, and vary considerably in size. They are of a bluish-green color, and are sparingly spotted with umber and dark brown markings about the larger extremity. In some specimens, the latter are grouped after the fashion of a wreath, but this is the exception rather than the rule. The largest specimen we have ever seen measures .80 by .57 of an inch; the smallest, .58 by .47. The average measurement is .72 of an inch in length, and .54 in breadth. The species as far as known is single-brooded.

Plate XIII.--PYRANGA RUBRA, Vieillot.--Scarlet Tanager.

|The Scarlet Taxager, a species but little known outside of the ornithological world, is more generally distributed than the casual observer is aware. According to various authorities, it ranges from Texas to Maine, and from South Carolina in a northwesterly direction to the southern limits of Lake Huron.

In the Eastern parts of Maine and Massachusetts it is but an occasional migrant; while in the western counties of the latter State, it is somewhat more plentiful, and nests in high, open woods and time-bewasted orchards. But it is in the States of Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Virginia, and throughout the great Valley of the Mississippi, that the birds more especially abound and rear their young.

Few species are more susceptible to cold and sudden atmospheric changes than the subject of our sketch. As a necessary consequence it is by no means a very early comer. However fond it may be of the scenes of last year's labors and pleasures, it does not forsake the genial climate and perennial groves of its tropical American home, until balmy April has yielded her crown and sceptre to the lovely goddess of May.

The male is usually the first to appear, the time of his arrival antedating that of his sombre-colored, less-favored companion by three or four days, although cases are cited where the sexes seemed to have performed the journey together.

For some time subsequent to his advent, the male is shy and suspicious, keeping away from the habitations of man, lest his brilliant suit of scarlet and black should excite the envy of some cruel and conscienceless collector, and he be summarily called upon, at the peril of his life, to part therewith.

The female, on the contrary, less attractive in style and dress, has fewer human admirers, and is permitted to roam _ad libitum_, and with as much freedom and confidence as any of the little feathered creatures that crowd about our doors.

But a change comes over the males after the lapse of a week or ten days. They may now be seen along our thoroughfares, and in our fields and gardens, acting with none of their former timidity, but endeavoring, by their beautiful plumage, agreeable manners, sweet song and useful service, to ingratiate themselves into the favor and esteem of their human brethren.

Thus affairs continue for nearly a month, the sexes crossing and recrossing each other's paths in their many journeyings, and so intent upon the procurement of food, that the object of their mission is either entirely lost sight of, or else is held in check, for the nonce, by some strong impulse of their being.

Events, however, are ripening for a speedy fulfilment of the business that has called them hither. The males exhibit less anxiety about food-questions, and a positive distaste for the unsettled and lonely lives which they have been leading. A similar feeling, but less conspicuously manifested, pervades and animates the gentler sexes, if outward actions afford proper criteria for judging of internal emotions. But exceedingly more coy than their imperial lords, they keep at a respectable distance, preferring to be wooed and won, rather than assume any other _role_ in the drama.

The duty of taking the initiative step falls to the lot of the male. In order to accomplish this purpose more effectively, perhaps, as he thinks, he seeks the tall tree-tops, and for many a long and weary hour, thrills the ambient air with his sweetest music. We have seen many a venturesome fellow, seemingly unconscious of his surroundings, and wholly absorbed in his voluntarily-imposed task, take his station upon a lofty tree by the road-side, in full view of passers-by, and pour forth his harmonious utterances with all the animation and pathos of his being. Tired at last, he ceases his efforts, preens his feathers, and is off to try his fortunes elsewhere. Thus he keeps up these movements, with necessary intermissions of rest and recreation, during the livelong day, until his song has arrested the attention of some impressible female. This ditty, which is uttered in a low and pensive manner, and which may be rather accurately represented by the syllables _chi-chi-chi-char-ee-char-ee-chi_, has been likened to the well-known notes of the Baltimore Oriole, but we are unable to trace the least resemblance thereto.

His efforts being finally crowned with success, the happy lover is profuse in his attentions and caresses, and leads his willing bride to other scenes, where they spend a brief season of enjoyment, before entering into preparations for establishing a home. As they move through the branches and foliage together, they utter their affection in a low whispering warble, and in tones of singular sweetness and tenderness.

Having celebrated their nuptials, they settle down to the duties of nest-building in earnest. The selection of a site is the first thing that commands attention. This is a matter of no little importance, and one that requires the exercise of considerable judgment. Both birds generally go together 011 this essential business, and carefully ransack the fields and thickets until a location is obtained which is wholly eligible. Nothing occurs in these examinations, if we are to judge from the behavior of the participants therein, to give offence, or mar the happiness of the wedded pair.

The places selected vary according to latitude and the fancy of the builders. Orchards, and groves of chestnuts, oaks, and nut-trees are frequented, and often a preference is manifested for swampy woods if not too dense. In places contiguous to human habitations the builders, especially the male, act with less carefulness than in more retired localities. They are here more secure from the depredations of rapacious birds, the latter having a decided aversion to man, their inveterate and merciless foe.

Building operations are usually begun about the fifteenth of May in the latitude of Philadelphia, towards the close of the month in New England, but never later than the first or second week of June. In its southern breeding-quarters, following the examples of its more distant relatives, it doubtless nests earlier.

The nest is placed upon the horizontal branch of a fruit-tree, usually on the edge of a wood, but occasionally in an orchard. Sometimes it is built over a crotch, which constitutes a more stable position. When a nest is located on the outskirts of a thicket, some species of oak, or the tulip-tree, is generally selected as the recipient thereof. In an orchard, the apple claims and receives this honor. Its height above the ground is mostly from fifteen to twenty feet in sequestered situations, but in cultivated districts, a much lower elevation is chosen.

The labor of building is performed mainly by the female, her partner lending but little assistance. The time devoted to the task seldom exceeds a period of four days, and so loosely are the fabrics put together, in the majority of cases, that they scarcely survive the season for which they were intended.

A structure before us is rather symmetrical and neatly built for the species, and quite shallow. Externally, it is composed of dried twigs, weeds and grasses, variously intermingled. Internally, there is a lining of fine roots, grass-stems, and the inner bark of the chestnut and oak. The outside diameter is five and a half inches, height two inches, diameter of cavity three and a half inches, and depth about half an inch.

Mr. Nuttall describes a nest examined by him as composed of rigid stalks of weeds and slender fir-twigs joined together with narrow strips of apocynum and pea-vine runners, and wound around with thin wiry stalks of the helianthemum, the whole so loosely and thinly plaited as to admit the light quite readily through the interstices.