Part 10

The LOGGERHEAD SHRIKE, who is perhaps the most widely known, builds a bulky nest in a tree, and is very attentive to his mate while she is sitting. She looks exactly like him.

He is a very quiet bird, and three or four or more of them may often be seen in a little party together, flying and hopping about in a tree, or on the ground, in the most amiable way. This shrike is a sweet singer, too. The song is not loud, but very pleasing.

A great deal that is not true has been said about this bird. Some people seem to think he is in the habit of tormenting and killing little birds for fun, and he is called many hard names. But he does not deserve them. His way of keeping his food has been spoken of as if it were a crime. He lives generally on crickets, grasshoppers, meadow mice, and small snakes, besides cut-worms, cankerworms, and many others. He is extremely useful to farmers and cultivators on that account.

Sometimes, when other food is scarce, he eats small birds, but they are by no means his usual food. I have watched a family of shrikes several times, and always looked very sharply to see if they touched birds. I have seen them eat many sorts of insects and grubs, and meadow mice, but never saw one disturb a bird. Other people who have watched them closely have told that their experience was the same. And writers about birds who study for themselves, and do not merely repeat what others have said, generally agree that the bird kills his prey before he impales it. More than that, the number of birds he kills is very small compared to the hosts of troublesome insects and small animals he eats.

The conclusion of the Agricultural Department as to the food of shrikes all over the country is that it consists mainly of grasshoppers, and that the good they do is much greater than the harm, and therefore they should be protected.

Mr. Keyser once saw a shrike catch a meadow mouse, and carry it up into a tree. First he killed it, and then tried to wedge it into a crotch so that he could eat it. But finally he found the sharp end of a broken snag, on which he fastened it.

There is no doubt that the shrike impales his prey so that he can pull it to pieces to eat, for his feet are too small to hold it. I have seen a shrike throw a dead meadow mouse over a fence wire that had sagged to the ground, in order to get bits off to eat.

A lady in New Hampshire who had a captive shrike tells in "Bird-Lore" that he was unable to eat a piece of meat until he could find a place to fasten it. He hopped around the room, looking for something, till she guessed what he wanted. Then she brought a kitchen fork with two tines. The moment he saw it he ran to her, hopped up on her hand, jerked his meat over the tines, and at once began to eat.

An interesting little action of one of these birds was seen by a gentleman traveling in Florida last winter. Wishing to have one of the birds to add to a collection, he shot one (I'm sorry to say). The bird was not killed, but wounded so that he could not fly. As the man came near to pick it up, the poor fellow gave a cry of distress, and fluttered away on his broken wing with great difficulty.

His call for help was heard. Another shrike at once flew down from a tree, and went to his aid. He flew close around him and under him, in some way holding him up as he was about to fall. He helped him so well that the two began to rise in the air, and before the eyes of the surprised hunter, at last got safely into the top of a tall tree, where he left them.

If you ever happen to find a shrike nesting, I hope you will watch the birds for yourself, and see how they act, and not take the word of any one about them. Then you will really know them. The picture shows a shrike as I have often seen one, sitting on the top twig of the tree that holds his nest, watching to see that no harm comes to it.

FOOTNOTE:

[11] See Appendix, 10.

XIII

THE WAXWING FAMILY

(_Ampelidæ_)[12]

THE waxwings are a family of beautiful birds, with elegant pointed crests, and wonderfully silky plumage. Excepting one species they are in soft grayish or reddish brown colors, with yellow tips to their tails and black lines on the head that look like spectacles, and give them a wise appearance.

Best known is the CEDAR WAXWING, or CEDAR-BIRD. He is a citizen at large, you may say, for he is known from sea to sea, and from Canada to Mexico. He nests all over the northern parts, and winters in the southern parts.

This bird gets his name of cedar-bird from the fact that he is fond of cedar berries. He is often called cherry-bird also, because he likes cherries. His name waxwing comes from the little tips like red sealing-wax which are on some of his wing feathers. In Maine he is called the bonnet-bird because of his crest, and in some places he is called silk-tail from his silky plumage. You see he has plenty of names.

Among the strange things about him is that he has almost no voice. The loudest sound he is known to make is a sort of whistle, so low it is like a whisper.

The cedar-bird builds a very neat nest in a tree, and feeds his mate while she is sitting, as well as helps her feed the little folk. The young cedar-bird is a winsome youngster, gentle in his ways, and pretty in his soft gray suit and spotted breast.

One day last summer, a man walking down a quiet road was surprised by a young bird alighting on his shoulder. He walked on home with it, and when he took it off found it was a baby cedar-bird. No doubt he had tried to fly too far and got tired.

The family kept the bird a day or two, and then brought him to me. He was not afraid of anybody, and was perfectly happy so long as some one would keep him warm between two hands.

It was hard to get him to eat, and there were plenty of his grown-up relatives about, probably his own family among them. So I thought it would be safe to put him out. I took him to the woods where I had seen a little family of young cedar-birds, and placed him on a low tree. He brightened up at once, and began to call, and flew to another tree. Fearing that my being there might prevent his mother coming to him, I left him. When I went out again I could not find him, so I hope he was safe with his friends.

I was more certain of it, because I know that these birds are kind to all birds in distress. A lady was once watching a nest of robins when the parents disappeared, no doubt killed. She was much troubled to know how she should get at the high nest to feed the young ones who were calling for their dinner, when she saw a cedar-bird go to them and feed them.

After that she kept close watch, and saw the cedar-bird feed them every day, and take care of the nestlings till they could fly. He no doubt taught them to take care of themselves, but this she could not see, for they flew away.

The ordinary food of this bird is insects that are found on trees, especially among fruit. But they have taken to fly-catching also. A party of them may often be seen busily at work catching flies. This is a very good thing for them as well as for us. The birds or beasts who can eat only one sort of food are called "single-food" animals, and they are growing scarcer every day. They need a change of diet to flourish. We should be sorry to have cedar-birds become scarce.

Cedar-birds are fond of cherries,--as I said,--but they eat hundreds of cankerworms to one cherry. So they earn all they have. Besides, if they can get wild cherries, they prefer them. They have been proved to be among our most useful birds. In one hundred and fifty-two stomachs that were examined, only nine had cultivated cherries.

Cedar-birds eat caterpillars and grubs, and are very fond of the elm-leaf beetle. They have been known to clear the elm-trees of a whole town, where the trees had been stripped for several years before they came. Besides insects, they eat the berries of many wild bushes and trees, such as wild cherry, dogwood, June-berry, elder, and others. They always prefer wild to cultivated berries.

One spring I saw a little flock of cedar-birds in an orchard full of blossoming apple-trees. They spent nearly all their time going over the trees, and working among the blossoms. One who was careless about it might have thought they were destroying apple buds, for they did eat many of the white petals of the flowers. But I wanted to be sure, so I watched carefully with my glass. Then I stayed by that orchard till October, and I never saw trees so loaded with apples as they were. Many branches lay on the ground with their weight of fruit, and in the whole orchard there was but one insect nest. That showed not only that the cedar-birds had done no harm, but that probably they had destroyed thousands of insects that would have done harm.

A bird classed with the waxwings is a California bird, the PHAINOPEPLA, or SHINING CRESTED FLYCATCHER. He is glossy bluish black in color, with large white spots in the wings, which show only when flying. His mate is brownish gray. They are rather slim birds, nearly as big as a catbird.

The phainopepla is a beautiful fellow, with an elegant pointed crest, and plumage shining like satin. He sits up very straight on his perch, but he is a rather shy bird, and so not much is known about his ways. He is a real mountain lover, living on mountains, or in cañons, or the borders of small streams of California, Arizona, and Texas.

As you see by one of his names, he is a flycatcher. Sometimes thirty or forty of them may be seen in a flock, all engaged in catching flies. But like the cedar-bird, he is also fond of berries. When berries are ripe on the pepper-trees, he comes nearer to houses to feast on the beautiful red clusters.

The song of this bird is said to be fine, and like many other birds, he sometimes utters a sweet whisper song.

The nest is placed on a branch, not very high up in a tree, and is often, perhaps always, made of flower stems with the flowers on, with fine strips of bark, grasses, and plant down.

What is curious, and rare among birds, the male phainopepla insists on making the nest himself. He generally allows his mate to come and look on, and greets her with joyous song, but he will not let her touch it till all is done. Sometimes he even drives her away. When all is ready for sitting, he lets her take her share of the work, but even then he appears to sit as much as she. Miss Merriam found a party of these birds on some pepper-trees, and to her we owe most of what we know of their habits.

FOOTNOTE:

[12] See Appendix, 11.

XIV

THE SWALLOW FAMILY

(_Hirundinidæ_)[13]

IT is very easy to know this family. They are small birds with long pointed wings, always sailing around in the air as if they could never tire. Their beaks are short, but very wide at the head, and the mouth opens as far back as the eyes. They have small and weak feet, so when they alight, it is usually on a small twig or telegraph wire, or on the flat top of a fence or roof.

Swallows wear no gay colors. Nearly all of them look black and white as they sail about in the air. But when you see them closely, you see they are glossy dark blue or green, sometimes with changeable colors, but all dark, on the back.

The BARN SWALLOW has a dull reddish breast, and his back is rich blue, almost black. He has a deeply forked tail, and a row of white spots on the shorter tail feathers. When he spreads his tail, it is very beautiful.

He is called barn swallow because he prefers a barn for a nesting-place. Up on the beams, close under the roof, the pair build their mud cradle. It is interesting to see them at work. When they have chosen a place, they go to some puddle in the road. They stand around it on their tiny feet, holding their wings straight up like a butterfly's. Then they take up some of the wet earth in their beaks, and work it around till it is made into a little pill. With this pill they fly to the place they have selected, and stick it on to the beam. Then they go back for more. So they go on, till they have built up the walls of the nest, an inch thick, and three or four inches high. Sometimes they put layers of fine grass in, but often they use nothing but mud. Then they line it with feathers which they pick up in the chicken yard.

Some swallows build a platform beside the nest, where one of the pair can rest at night; and when the little ones get big enough to fill up the nest, both parents can sleep there.

When the swallows are flying about low over the grass, looking as if they were at play, they are really catching tiny insects as they go. And when they have nestlings to feed, they collect a mouthful which they make up into a sort of little ball. Then they fly to the nest and feed it to one of the little ones.

Thus they keep the air clear and free from insects, and they do not a bit of harm, for they never touch our fruit or vegetables.

Barn swallows are social, and always go in flocks. They sing, too,--a sweet little song, but not very loud. It is charming to hear them in a barn when five or six of them sing together. But one may often hear the little song from a single bird flying over.

They are friendly among themselves, and they like to alight on a roof and chatter away a long time. In one place where I was staying, they liked to gather on a piazza roof right under my window. They often woke me in the morning with their sweet little voices.

One morning the sound was so near, it seemed as if they must be in the room, and I opened my eyes to see. There on the sill close to the screen was one of the pretty fellows. He was looking in at the open window, and evidently keeping watch of me. When I moved a little, he gave the alarm, and the whole party flew away.

The chatter of barn swallows always seems to me like talk, and men who study bird ways agree that birds have some sort of language. The swallows have many different notes. One is a general warning of danger, but there is another note for a man, another for a cat, and a still different one when they find something good to eat, which they call the others to share.

"The variety of bird speech," says a man who has studied birds a long time, "is very great." And of all bird voices, swallows' are the most like human speech. If you lie on the hay in the barn very quiet, and listen to them when they come in and fly about, you will see that this is true. It seems sometimes as if you could almost make out words.

Swallows more than any other birds like to make use of our buildings for their own homes. Barn swallows take the beams inside the barns, EAVE SWALLOWS settle under the eaves outside, and PURPLE MARTINS, the largest of the family, choose bird-houses which we put up for them.

It is said that purple martins will not stay anywhere that men have not made houses for them. But I have seen them living in a place not put up for them, though perhaps they thought it was. It was under a terra-cotta covering to a cornice on a business block in the middle of a busy city. The terra-cotta was shaped like a large pipe cut in half, the long way. This half cylinder was laid on top of the brick cornice, and that made a little roof, you see. The whole length of that cornice was thus made into one long room, with a brick floor and terra-cotta roof, and an entrance at the end. That room must have had a dozen martin nests, for a flock was all the time sailing about in the air, above the roofs of the houses.

As these birds eat only flying insects, they cannot stay with us when it is too cool for insects to fly abroad. So they leave us very early. When the little ones are out of the nest and can fly well, swallows from all the country around collect in great flocks, and go to some swamp, or lonely place where people do not go much. There the young ones are taught and exercised every day in flying. And some day we shall go out and find them all gone, not a swallow to be seen. They have started for their winter home, which is far south, in tropical countries, where insects never fail; but it is a comfort to think that next summer we shall have them back with us again.

The swallows I have mentioned, barn swallow, eave swallow, and purple martin, are found all over our country.

Let me tell you a story that shows the purple martin has a good deal of sense. One of these birds built in a box under a window, fixed so that the owner could open it and take out eggs. He took out several, one at a time, and at last he took out one of the birds.

The mate of the stolen bird went off and in a few days came back with another mate. The box was too good to give up, so both the birds went to work to make it safe against the nest robber. They built up a wall of mud before the too handy back door. The egg thief could not get in without breaking down the wall, and he was ashamed to do that. So the birds kept their pleasant home, and reared their family there.

FOOTNOTE:

[13] See Appendix, 12.

XV

THE TANAGER FAMILY

(_Tanagridæ_)[14]

THIS is a large family of between three and four hundred species, all dressed in gay colors. But we have only three of them in our country. Their home is in the warmer parts of the world. We have the scarlet tanager in the East, the Louisiana tanager in the West, and the summer tanager in the South. Tanagers are a little larger than sparrows, and live in the trees. They feed on insects and fruit; sometimes, it is said, on flowers.

The SCARLET TANAGER is the brilliant red bird with black wings and tail, common all over the Eastern and Middle States. His mate is dressed in modest olive green, and the nestlings are like her the first year.

The tanager himself wears his gay dress only during the nesting season, that is, spring and summer. Towards fall he turns from scarlet to green like his mate, and he is a droll-looking object while he does it. He seems to break out into green patches or streaks. One that I watched began by showing a little green feather among the red on each side of his breast. I have seen one with a green ring around the neck, and all the rest of the plumage scarlet; and another with a green stripe down the back. Some show no regularity about it, but are covered with green patches all over, and look like bunches of colored rags.

It is no wonder that a bird hides in the woods, as many do, when changing his coat, if he looks such an object. In spring he gets back his brilliant coat, and comes to our Northern woods again, to nest.

The nest of this bird is not very high in a tree. It is a rather shabby affair, that looks as if it would fall to pieces, and the birds are madly shy about being looked at.

I once saw in the woods a tanager building her nest. I hoped to watch her through nesting, and see how she brought up her little folk. Both of the pair were there, but were too shy to come to the nest while my friend and I were there. We kept very still, and even hid in some bushes, hoping she would not see us. We were so quiet that she was gradually getting over her fright, and coming nearer the nest, when suddenly the big dog we had with us gave a loud sneeze. In an instant both birds were off, as if shot out of a gun. And I think they never came back, for the nest was not finished.

The song of the tanager is much like the robin song, but having once learned it, a sharp ear can easily tell them apart, for it is of a different tone. It is rather hoarse, not so smooth as a robin's voice. The common call is a hoarse and very distinct "chip, chur," given by both of the pair.

Several years ago I saw a scarlet tanager in a bird store. It was winter, and I brought him home to keep till it was safe to set him free in the spring. He was very timid, and did not like to have any one look at him, especially when he went to eat.

If I happened to look at him when he was at his food-dish, he would instantly fly to his top perch, and look as if he would never eat again. So I partitioned off one corner of his cage for a private dining-room, by a strip of stiff paper woven between the wires. After that it was very droll to see him retire behind the screen and eat, now and then sticking up his head to glance over the top, and see if I were looking.

I found it hard to please him with food. He liked living insects, but he wanted to catch them for himself. So I got some sticky fly-paper, and hung it up outside the kitchen door. When I had caught half a dozen flies, I took it up to him. He was not in a cage, and the minute he saw the flies he flew across the room and hovered before me like a big hummingbird, while he daintily picked off every fly. He forgot that he didn't like to have me see him eat. After that I was fly-catcher every day till he learned to like mockingbird food.

In the spring he began to sing--a sweet, low song, different from the common tanager song. Then I took him out to the country, away from the English sparrows, and set him free.

The SUMMER TANAGER nests in the Southern States from New Jersey to Florida. He is all red, but otherwise looks like the scarlet tanager, and his habits are about the same.

The LOUISIANA TANAGER nests in the Western States from the Plains to the Pacific. He is brighter, with a variety of colors. He is mostly bright yellow, with brilliant red head, and black wings and tail, and his mate--like other female tanagers--is in olive green. He is a shy bird, and lives in the woods, and his habits have been very little studied.

I once saw a pair of these birds in Utah, getting their breakfast. At least, the gay singer himself was at that business, though his sharp-eyed mate was too busy watching me to see that I did not mean any harm, to care for food.

They were on a long fence, catching flies. One would fly out a little way, his bill snapping as he seized the fly, and then return to the fence a little farther off. Every time he came back he alighted farther away, though he did not seem even to see me. His mate kept between him and me, and never took her eyes from me. I feared she would go hungry, so I came away and left them.

FOOTNOTE:

[14] See Appendix, 13.

XVI

THE SPARROW AND FINCH FAMILY

(_Fringillidæ_)[15]

THIS is the largest bird family, more than five hundred species, and they are found nearly all over the world. It is divided into sparrows, finches, grosbeaks, and crossbills. All of them are smaller than a robin, and have short, high beaks, with the back corners turned down. The beaks show that they are seed eaters, though all of them eat insects too.

An interesting thing about birds who eat seeds is the grinding machine they have inside to break up the hard seeds. For of course, having no teeth, they are obliged to swallow them nearly whole. What I have called a machine is the gizzard, and you have seen it on the table from a chicken. It is well fitted to grind up the food, and birds often swallow small stones to help in the work.

The first group of this family, the sparrows, are all small, about the size of an English sparrow. They are dressed in dull, brownish colors, more or less streaked, and they live and get their food very largely on or near the ground. Their colors keep them from being easily seen on the ground.

All of this group sing, and some of them are noted songsters, as the song sparrow, the white-throated sparrow, and the fox sparrow. The best known is the little song sparrow, who is found almost everywhere, and is dear to nearly every one.

The SONG SPARROW is streaked all over in shades of brown. The breast is white, with the dark brown streaks coming together in an irregular-shaped spot, or sometimes two spots, in front.