Nests and Eggs of Birds of The United States

They are never known to construct homes for themselves, but make use of hollow trees, Wookpeckers' holes, and often the old and forsaken nests of the common Crow and the Gray Squirrel. A low, flat shelving of rock beneath an overhanging bluff, in situations remote from the dwellings of man, is not unfrequently chosen. But in' places immediately surrounding him, and even within his precincts, unfinished stone-buildings and pigeon-cotes are occupied, the latter much to the dread of their rightful owners, who soon become reconciled to the glaring insult, and live on friendly terms with their courageous neighbors. In Germantown, Pa., many of these birds are accustomed to deposit their eggs in the holes left by the removal of scaffolding from the walls of unfinished buildings. In some instances, they are placed within a slight depression produced by the removal of the mortar; but, generally, a thin covering of leaves and grasses serves to relieve the roughness of the cavity. In one case a rather dense bedding of moss made a soft and cozy lining. Almost any tree that has been pressed into service by the Golden-shafted Woodpecker, and made to answer as a receptacle for its eggs, is utilized by the species under consideration. In an orchard, the apple is mostly a favorite; while in other situations, the swamp maple and common chestnut are as frequently occupied. Their height above the ground varies from ten to fifty feet. In no cases have we discovered it below this figure, and never above it. A nest found April 20th, 1881, near Rowlandville, by William Wentz, in a decayed chestnut branch, was fifty feet from the ground, and consisted entirely of dry grasses in quite limited quantity. This is the earliest one ever found in this locality. Generally, the nest is completed for oviposition during the last of this month, or the beginning of the succeeding. My son, Alan F. Gentry, on the fourth of May of the same year, met with one in a hollow branch of the chestnut, in Germantown. This was placed about twenty feet up, in a cavity whose width at the mouth was four and a half inches, and whose depth was nine inches. It was lined with a few leaves and fragments of decayed wood, and contained four eggs, which were partially incubated. Another complement of eggs, five in number, before us, was found May 17th, 1880, near Granville, N. Y., by F. T. Pember, Esq. It was placed in an isolated maple, about twenty feet from the ground, in what was once the home of a pair of Flickers. The bottom of the cavity was lined with straw and grass of last year's deposit, little, if any, fresh materials being noticeable. The diameter of the base was seven inches, and depth, twenty inches. The drawing represents a nest in a decayed branch of the red maple. The female bird is considerably reduced, and placed on the edge of the cavity, looking outwardly; whereas the male, in perfectly erect attitude, and with dignified demeanor, stands on a bent branch, at some distance from his home, engaged, as it were, in surveying the surrounding scenery. He is shown in his jauntiest feathers, and with his fair proportions diminished but one-fourth. Owing to the difficulty encountered in figuring the eggs in situ, we have been compelled to show a single specimen, the natural size, and on a tinted background below and to the left of the picture.

The nest being ready, the female is not dilatory about laying. Unlike most of the birds which we have previously described, she does not deposit with much regularity. Sometimes the eggs are laid on consecutive days, and, at other times, on each alternate day; never more than one being deposited daily. This business being accomplished, the female proceeds at once to incubate. After she has been thus occupied for a varying period of time, seldom less than two hours at a sitting, she summons her mate to her side, and resigns to him the laborious task for a season. While one is on the nest, the other, when not in quest of food, is on a tree in the immediate neighborhood, quietly on the alert. If danger is imminent, the sitting-bird is apprised of the fact in time to make its escape. This done, the two endeavor to protect their home from pillage. As long as there is some prospect of frightening away the depredators, they keep up the warfare with a good show of courage. But when constrained to desist from the attack by the too near approach of enemies, they do not forsake their home entirely, but choose a point out of reach of harm, where they station themselves, and behold with profound distress its demolition. In these attacks the female is the superior of her masculine companion, and exhibits the most reckless bravery. The latter is, however, more circumspect and cautious. But should the enemy be a feathered species, and of superior physique, the unequal warfare is waged with terrible fury, and often results in favor of the defendants. Where not interfered with by man, these birds have been known to visit the same locality year after year; but when meddled with, they abandon the site for another of greater security. The period of incubation ranges from fifteen to sixteen days.

The young are very helpless creatures when first hatched, and often tax the patience and vigilance of the parents to the utmost in their efforts to obtain for them a quantum sufficit of nourishing food. Both birds are seldom absent together on this important mission. While one is abroad, the other remains at home, and exercises the strictest surveillance. The food of the young at first consists of grasshoppers, crickets, and caterpillars of the family of measuring-worms. Being rapid growers, they are soon able to digest bits of small rodents and birds, which the parents tear from the warm flesh of the quivering victims which they hold in their talons. When four weeks old, parental assistance is in a measure withdrawn, and they are forced to feed themselves. A fortnight longer, they quit the nest, and receive their meals while perched on the tree-branches. But it is not until they attain an age of two months that they are entirely thrown upon their own resources. They, however, continue to reside with their parents, but for what length of time, we are unable to say. Like the latter, their appetites are very fastidious, tainted and unsavory food being rejected with disgust. When the young have vacated the nest, Audubon asserts that the parents are known to imitate their feeble cries, as they travel together in pursuit of game. Ordinarily, the cry of the adult birds is a peculiar series of notes, which are pronounced in a very shrill manner, and most difficult of imitation. It is said to resemble the call of the European Kestrel, and would doubtless be mistaken for it, were it not for its more powerful intonation.

When taken from the nest, these Hawks are readily domesticated, and make very interesting pets. Audubon once reared a young bird, which he kept about the house. At nights it would roost upon a favorite window-shutter. In the daytime it would wander about the fields, where it was often assailed by its wilder kindred. On these occasions, instead of making a stand and resenting such uncivilized conduct, it would invariably beat a precipitate flight to the house where it was sure of finding protection. At length this poor bird was killed by an enraged hen, one of whose chicks it was essaying to capture. While in Columbia, South Carolina, Dr. Coues saw three of these birds in the possession of a neighbor. They had been taken while quite young, and were perfectly reconciled to their imprisonment. During early life they ate all kinds of meat, but as they approached the age of maturity, they began to display much of their natural disposition. When disturbed they would show their displeasure by snapping the bill, and clutching at the offending cane with their talons. Among the number there was a cripple who was most dreadfully misused and bullied by his companions. One night, being insufficiently fed or unusually irritable, they set upon the poor fellow, killed him, and had nearly made way with him by the returning morn.

The eggs of this species vary in number from four to seven, complements of fives and sixes being oftener found than any other. In one case a set of three was found by a friend of the writer's, but this was probably exceptional in its character. The ground-color is never fixed, but passes from a beautiful white, through a dark cream, into one that is decidedly buff. In some specimens, under a glass of moderate power, the ground is a perfectly uniform buff, but in others which appear to the unaided vision of the same color, the lens reveals a whitish background very densely covered with minute dottings. There is also noticeable considerable variation in the markings. Three from a nest in Philadelphia, with a pure-white ground-color, are marked with dottings and blotches of light-brown, sparsely scattered over the greater portion of their surfaces, excepting a space of the size of a dime about either extremity, where a dark and almost continuous patch of reddish-brown occurs, relieved by a few small spots of blackish-brown. These eggs are nearly spherical, of the ordinary shape, and have an average measurement of 1.38 by 1.14 inches. Another set, four in number, from near Germantown, Pa., have a light-buff ground, and are completely covered with fine markings of brown, and others of bolder spots of the same, so as almost to conceal the color below. They average the same in dimensions as the preceding, and are similarly shaped. A clutch of five from Granville, N. Y., is the exact counterpart of the Germantown specimens in every particular. All eggs which we have seen from New England, the South, and the West, California in particular, though subject to variations in size and ornamentation, are uniform as to shape. The length usually varies from 1.32 to 1.49, and the width from 1.07 to 1.20 inches.

Plate XXI. – AIX SPONSA, (Linn.) Boie. – Wood Duck; Summer Duck

The Wood Duck, appropriately so named because it breeds in trees, surpasses in elegance of plumage and gracefulness of action all North American birds of its family. Although known by the name of Summer Duck, from the fact of its remaining with us during the entire hot season, and not journeying to the cold regions of the North as many of its brethren are wont to do, it is however more commonly designated by the former appellation. Few species are more highly esteemed by lovers of the beautiful in Nature than this, and, where obtainable, it is one of the first that finds its way into the private collection of the amateur naturalist. But by epicures, it is considered as of rather inferior standing, lacking the delicacy of flesh which makes the Green-winged Teal and others of such immense gastronomic value.

Although truly an American species, it is more generally found throughout the United States than any other, nesting wherever suitable localities present themselves. North of the Potomac, and in the various States situated above the parallel which cuts its head-waters, at least so far as the country east of the Rocky Mountains is concerned, it is chiefly a migrant, arriving towards the latter part of March, or the beginning of April. South of this line, from Maryland to Florida, and in a southwesterly direction through the Gulf States into Mexico, the birds are found in more or less abundance during the entire year.

In the South Atlantic and Gulf States, they generally pair, we are told, about the first of March, but in New England and the Middle States, in favorable seasons, from the first to the fifteenth of April, perhaps later; and in the country bordering on the Great Lakes, about the last of May or the beginning of June. In Iowa, and other Western States of the same latitude, from the fifteenth to the last of May.

Upon its arrival in our Northern States, remarkable to say, unlike many of its numerous family connections, it seldom frequents the seashore, or the adjoining salt marshes, but manifests a predilection for the ponds, mill-dams, and deep muddy streams of the interior. The same is true of its more southern breeding-grounds along creeks and bayous of the land where the orange and palmetto charm the eye with perennial verdure.

During the interval of time between the appearance of these birds and the renewal of their ancient vows at the accustomed trysting-place, the sexes consort together in ever-varying flocks of fours or more, but never in very large numbers, and fatten on acorns, the seeds of the wild oats, and such insects as they can procure from the tree-branches, or the muddy margins of the streams and ponds which they frequent.

On each recurrence of the mating season, there is reason for believing that the same couple come together, and pledge anew the sincerity of their fidelity, and the constancy of their affection, unless debarred from so doing by death, or some other of the numerous vicissitudes to which life is prone. The troth-plight being sealed, the happy lovers are not slow in effecting a union. A few reciprocations of love, mutual and sympathetic, and the role is ended. But in cases where the male has lost his partner, doubtless more time is devoted to this important business. Much time is spent in seeking a suitable companion, and even when the seeker is successful in finding one which combines the necessary qualities, no little time is frittered away in rendering himself agreeable to her lady's notions of what a husband should be, for she not unfrequently acts as if she were possessed of some taste and discrimination.

Having settled this important business, the newly-mated couple start off in quest of a spot for the location of a home. In the case of old birds the same locality has been known to be visited for four successive years.

This doubtless is the rule where the birds are permitted to obey their own natural instincts uninterfered with by beast or man. For obvious reasons, these Ducks delight to live in close proximity to bodies of water. Such places afford conveniences to the young when they are sufficiently matured to betake themselves thither. Situations remote from this element entail unnecessary labor upon the female, who is then required, at considerable risk and trouble, to carry them one by one in her bill. When the distance is not too great, and the ground beneath the tree is well covered with dried leaves and grasses, the young scramble to the mouth of the nest, drop themselves down, and under the maternal leadership wend their way to the much-loved fluid. Often the tree or stub which contains their home is found to overshadow the water. All that is necessary then is for the tender creatures after reaching the entrance, to spread their ill-feathered wings and oar-like feet, and fling themselves down. This feat can be performed without jeopardy to life or limb.

The site being agreed upon to the mutual satisfaction of the parties concerned, all that is necessary to be done before going to house-keeping, is to select a place for the nest. For this purpose, almost any tree, or branch thereof, containing the essential hollow, and located reasonably near some stream or expanse of water, can be utilized. According to Audubon, "the holes to which they betake themselves are either over deep swamps, above cane-brakes, or on broken branches of high sycamores, seldom more than forty or fifty feet from the water." Our experience, which is similar to Wilson's, is that these birds do not have a partiality for any particular species. While tree hollows are generally preferred, we have the authority of the illustrious personages whose names we have just cited for saying that such places are not exclusively chosen. The former claims to have met with the home of a pair of these birds in a fissure of a rock, along the Kentucky River, only a few miles from Frankfort; and the latter speaks of having discovered one which was placed in a fork composed of branches, and built out of a few rude sticks. In the South, the forsaken retreat of the Gray Squirrel, or the hole of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker, are common nesting-places. Often the entrance to the nest is apparently so small compared with the bulk of the occupant, that it is a matter of surprise to many how she can manage to make her way into it without suffering bodily injuries. But she does, which is proof that she knows either how to conform to circumstances, or else is a better judge of size than many of us would-be-wise lords of creation. All structures which we have examined were generally wide enough at the mouth to admit of easy passage, and were from four to six feet deep. The bottom of the cavity invariably consisted of soft decayed wood, and a few feathers which were doubtless plucked by the bird from her own breast. Besides these articles, other writers have observed dry plants, down, and feathers of the Wild Turkey, Wild Goose, and the common barnyard fowl. The height of the entrance above the ground varies from fifteen to thirty feet, according to our experience. Possibly a less, or even a greater elevation may sometimes be attained.

Wilson speaks of a nest which he observed in an old grotesque white oak. It stood on a slope of one of the banks of the Tuckahoe River, in New Jersey, just twenty yards from the water's edge, and had been occupied for four consecutive years. At the time of his visit it contained thirteen young birds, which the maternal head was engaged in carrying down to the water to give them, perhaps, their first experience in the natatorial art. So carefully, and yet so adroitly and quickly did she perform this seemingly difficult task, that she was less than ten minutes in its accomplishment. Although the male usually stands sentry while the diverse processes of laying and sitting are going on, and signals the approach of enemies by a peculiar cry which has been likened to the crowing of a young cock —oe êêh! oe êêk!– yet from the silence of one writer upon the subject, we infer that the duty of rearing the rather numerous family is left to the mother, her proud and consequential partner, as though disdaining such ignoble and degrading because slavish work, being off with his gay companions, disporting themselves in mid-air, or trimming, while perched upon some sheltering bough, their rich and varied plumage. So intent, however, was the mother-bird upon the faithful discharge of her joyous home-duties, that she heeded not the stately sloop, then nearly completed, as it lay upon the stocks close-by, with its hull looming up within twelve feet of her home, darkened with the presence, and reverberating with the noise of workmen, but continued to pass in and out as though unconscious of the so near approach of danger. Audubon claims that the male deserts the female when the period of sitting commences, and joins his sterner brethren, who unite into flocks of considerable numbers, and keep apart from their partners until the young are fully matured, when young and old of both sexes come together, and thus remain until the return of another breeding-season.

From what has been said above, it must be evident to the reader that the female is wholly concerned with the duties of incubation. For a little more than twenty-one days she is thus occupied, and with nothing to relieve the monotony of her task. How often must she despair, and bewail the hardship of her lot, no mortal knows. But it is the decree of inexorable fate, and most willingly does she bow to it. But the ennui of the labor is in a measure forgotten in the vision which hope holds out to the patient little housewife. Weary, and well-nigh spent of her strength, she persists a little while longer, and her patience and assiduity are rewarded. A whole nest-full of happy ducklings gladden her heart, and send a new thrill through her being. While the hatching process is going on, the loving parent only leaves the nest when pressed by the pangs of hunger, and but for a short time. Before leaving, she always takes the precaution to see that her treasures are carefully covered with down.

The young follow the mother the same as our domesticated species do, and gather whatever of vegetable and insect food they happen to meet with. They are passionately fond of the water, and best show their real nature and disposition when gracefully floating upon its glassy surface, or diving beneath its liquid depths. At an early age they respond to the parent's call with a soft and mellow pee, pee, pee-e, which is uttered quite rapidly, and at repeated intervals. The call of the mother, when addressing the young, at such times, is rather low and soft, and resembles the above sounds, only a little more prolonged.

These beautiful birds have often been domesticated. At such times they become so unsuspicious and familiar as to allow themselves to be stroked upon the back with the hand. Instances are on record. Such being so, what is there to prevent the introduction of them into our yards? Nothing. Then let it be tried. A glance at the picture will show that no handsomer bird could be chosen. Look at the male as he stands upon an embankment on the right of the picture ready at any moment, so it seems, to plunge into the watery fluid below, and tell us if there is anything more beautiful in the world of swimming-birds. We apprehend not. His conspicuous size, some nineteen inches in length, and scope of wing of two and one-third inches, make him a being of no mean proportions. But then it is the richness and variety of his colors that render him an object of attraction. Near the farther shore of the pond, with her shadow reflected in the water, like a thing of grace, floats his loved but less showy companion. She is nearly of the same size as he, but wanting in the same dignity of demeanor. On the other side stands an old tree, festooned with vines, which represents the nest of these birds, with a female just in the act of entering.

The eggs of the Wood Duck range from six to thirteen to a setting. Their shape passes from the ovate form to one that is nearly oval, and, indeed, specimens are often found which are almost perfectly elliptical. Eggs from Massachusetts measure 1.97 by 1.45 inches. Others from Michigan, 2.21 by 1.54; and some from Maine, 2.10 by 1.54. A set of ten from Iowa, but recently received, of a yellowish-white or creamy color, which seems to be the natural hue, are beautifully elliptical in contour, and have an average measurement of 2.08 by 1.59 inches; the largest being 2.19 inches long, and 1.59 wide, and the smallest, 1.96 in length and 1.63 in width.

Plate XXII. – PSALTRIPARUS MINIMUS, (Townsend) Bonaparte. – Least Tit

The Least Tit, introduced to the notice of ornithologists by Mr. Townsend in 1837, is exclusively a denizen of the country bordering on the Pacific Ocean. It inhabits the whole region stretching from Fort Steilacoom, in Washington Territory, to Fort Tejon, in California. According to Dr. Garnbel, it is not only abundant throughout California, but is also an occupant of the Rocky Mountains. But as this author wrote at a period anterior to that which marked the separation of this species from its nearest kin – the Plumbeous Tit – it is believed by Dr. Coues that those nice shades of difference which climate or other influences have impressed upon the Rocky Mountain birds were unobserved by him, and that he was thus led to consider the two species identical.

Although these birds have been deemed migratory in Washington Territory, as the writings of Drs. Cooper and Suckley would lead us to infer, yet there is strong evidence for believing that it is not wholly the case. From observations made by Mr. Townsend, we learn that they are quite common during the winter, and may be seen in great numbers hopping around among the bushes, or hanging head downwards from leafless twigs after the fashion of other Titmice. While thus engaged in search of the pupa of insects, they are very reckless, and keep up a continual twittering. Their notes are rapidly enunciated, and have been likened to the words thshish tslmt-tsee-twee, the last two syllables bearing a slight resemblance to the concluding strains of our Eastern Chickadee.

While gleaning for food, these noisy beings go in companies. Troops of fifties and sixties, and some say hundreds, travel through the woods, and make their otherwise cheerless depths resound with din and chatter. Nor do they journey alone, for they are often accompanied by the Kinglets and other kindred species. So intent are they upon the procurement of food at such times, that they seem utterly unconscious of danger. It is not uncommon for a bystander to be so surrounded by one of these flocks as to be almost able to capture the birds with the hand.