Nests and Eggs of Birds of The United States

A sudden, circular plunge, accompanied by a dull, heavy splash, and the frightened, squirming fish is wrested from its native element, and swallowed in an instant. In less time than it takes to chronicle the brief event, the daring, cruel deed is accomplished, and the perpetrator thereof has regained his post, and stands ready for similar adventures. Such is the greedy and unsatisfying character of his nature that, where undisturbed, he has been known to watch for hours at a time without changing his point of lookout. It must not be supposed, however, that the quantity of food which he devours is in proportion to the time spent in its procurement. This is not the case. Due allowance must be made for disappointments and reverses, as well as for the failure of the finny tribes to manifest themselves. Tired of watching, he often varies his occupation by coursing along the stream at a small height above its surface, and stopping anon, suspended after the fashion of Hawks, to gaze into the depths below.

Nothing can be more interesting than the behavior of an individual who has miscalculated his chances, and fallen wide of his mark when plunging for prey. The very impersonation of disappointment, he retires to his post, sullen and dejected. His very attitude and looks attest the war of feelings waging within his bosom. But this is of short continuance. The thoughts of past experiences come to his rescue, and he is himself again. With the successful fellow the condition is different. Joy and happiness are depicted where, before, we saw but misery and sadness.

However intently these birds may seem to be occupied with the business before them, they are not so completely absorbed therein as to be utterly oblivious to their surroundings. Blessed with sharp vision, they are as equally favored in the direction of hearing. When the eye is engaged, like a faithful sentinel on duty the ear, whose function it is to receive and communicate vibrations of air to the brain where they are interpreted, is always on the alert, ready to warn its companion of danger.

From what has been written, it is evident that the desire for food seems uppermost in the thoughts of these birds from their first arrival – usually in March or April – until pairing commences. In its gratification, the female is the equal of her lord. Such being the case, it is unreasonable to expect any great degree, of familiarity and friendship to exist between the sexes. They, therefore, dwell apart. Accident sometimes brings them together, but beyond a silent recognition, they evince no greater regard. Thus affairs continue for a month, and even for a longer period of time, when they suddenly come to a most glorious end by the assumption of connubial relations. Nothing remarkable or impressive indicates the coming of this event. The male seems to meet his partner unawares, makes overtures of love in his own strange fashion, and becomes at once her uninfluenced choice. And thus the story is ended.

Without further ado, the wedded couple prepare for the duties of house-keeping. Usually they are spared the trouble of searching for a home. Especially is this the case with old birds, who have only to visit the scenes of other years to find a domicile awaiting occupancy. A little repairing of the galleries leading thereto, as well as the cosy, interior chamber, and the place soon wears an aspect of cheerfulness and comfort. But where these structures do not exist, they are excavated at great pains in the sides of ponds, streams, or cliffs contiguous to water. A very common place, in the latitude of Philadelphia, is in sandy, railroad cuttings. Dry, elevated grounds, beyond the reach of inundations, are ordinarily chosen, although there may be exceptions to the rule.

These burrows are the results of the alternate labors of the sexes, who work with diligence and rapidity until the task is accomplished, often making a deep excavation in a single night, when the bank is soft and sandy. The directions and depths of these holes vary: some being less than four feet, while others are more than fifteen feet deep; some being straight, and others turning either to the right or to the left before terminating in the enlarged chamber which is constructed as a place of deposit for the eggs. The time spent in the formation of a burrow depends upon the nature of the soil and the length of the shaft. Ordinarily two days are required for its completion, although instances are recalled where three, and even four days, have been occupied with the tunneling.

With the successful accomplishment of this task, nothing further remains to be done but to deposit the eggs upon the bare sand. Some birds do not deem their labor finished until they have given their home a warm lining of dried grasses and feathers. Such cases are exceptional, and dependent upon the humidity of the ground.

In 1855, Dr. Brewer discovered a nest of this species on Mt. Washington, alongside of a carriage-drive, and at a distance of a mile from any water-shallows. Another was found in a sand-bank in the village of Hingham, in close proximity to a dwelling, and quite remote from stream or pond. The authors of the latter nest were very cautious and retiring, seldom venturing out during the day, but were continually moving backward and forward at night, as evidenced by their loud, rattling cries. When with young these nocturnal excursions are not infrequent.

Speaking of the building habits of these birds, reminds us of a curious fact which occurred in the history of a male-bird, of which Mr. Dali, of Washington, was an eye-witness. On a certain occasion his attention was attracted to his lordship engaged in digging holes by the side of his nest, which were two feet in depth and eight inches in diameter, apparently for no other purpose than that of pleasure or occupation. They were invariably abandoned as soon as constructed. Once, he entered one of these burrows to eat a fish which he had captured.

Many fabulous stories have been told in ages that are past of the nest and manner of hatching of the Kingfishers, but they are too absurd and trifling to deserve more than a passing notice. The birds of our day neither construct their nests of glue or fishbones, nor commit them to the mercy of the waters to float about at random with their proprietors, but place them deep down in the earth, where they are secure from wind and rain, and the thousand perils which threaten the homes of their less sagacious neighbors. Into these secret recesses the females place their pure white, nearly spherical treasures, to the number of six, on as many consecutive clays. These beautiful solids exhibit not more than ordinary variation in size, and rarely exceed 1.31 of an inch in length, and 1.06 in breadth from the most diverse localities.

By the beginning of June, sometimes two months earlier in the semi-tropical sections of our country, the young, through the patient setting of the mother-bird, make their appearance. While she is thus concerned for fourteen long, weary days, her partner plays the role of a very faithful and attentive husband, amply providing for her sustenance. Both parents show great affection for their little family, and watch over it with jealous and assiduous care. Weak and fragile creatures as they are at birth, they cannot digest the unprepared food of adults, but must needs have it reduced to a pulpy state by a process of maceration. Later on this is discontinued, and the birdlings perform the important duty for themselves. At the age of fifteen days they are old enough to quit the nest, but usually remain a brief period longer, when they venture out and try the fortunes of the outside world. At nights they return to the hole where they were fledged, and also during rainy weather, until the last of October, or the middle of November, when they leave their parents, and like the latter, separate and wend their flight to the South, or to regions beyond. When the season is unusually propitious, they seek more sheltered localities, and spend the winter with us.

From the male the female, as shown in the drawing, is readily distinguished, by having the sides of the body and a transverse band across the abdominal region, and slightly posterior to the bluish one of the breast, light-chestnut, the pectoral band' being more or less tinged with the same color. The young resemble the mother in the fall, but when spring re-appears, the males present themselves in the paternal garb. The length of the adult is about twelve and three-quarters inches; that of the wing, six, and sometimes more. The small opening in the embankment shows the entrance to a nest, and a female making her way thither.

Plate XXIX. – BONASA UMBELLUS, (Linn.) Stephens. – Ruffed Grouse

Considerable misapprehension exists in relation to the popular appellation applied to this species. In some parts of the country it is dubbed the Partridge, while in others it goes by the name of Pheasant. It is neither. All its affinities point away from these families, in the direction of the True Grouse, of which it constitutes a useful and interesting member. Pheasants are never found in the United States, but are indigenous to Southern Asia. Their nearest representative here is the Wild Turkey. Almost as much may be said of the Partridge, a group of birds 'which are exclusive denizens of the Old World. To save further confusion, we have thought it best to perpetuate in this work the title given above. While it can offer no violence to scientific accuracy, it cannot be otherwise than acceptable to the common sense of the masses, although it be less euphonious than its contemporaries. The wear and tear of constant use will soften its asperities and harshness, and render it, in the long run, agreeable as it is appropriate.

This matter settled, we shall proceed at once to the subject. Few Grouse are better known, and none more esteemed for its flesh, than the one we have chosen for a few remarks. Everywhere throughout the timbered regions of Eastern North America it is more or less plentiful, ranging from the Atlantic seaboard to the Rocky Mountains, and from Georgia to Nova Scotia. As far north as the 56th parallel it is said by Richardson to abound in small flocks which show considerable lack of suspicion and timidity. In all our Southern States, Louisiana excepted, they exist to some extent, and are also to be found over limited portions of the Missouri Region, but, doubtless, more especially about the mouth of the river, and the contiguous country. In the western parts of the region it is represented by a form which passes with ornithologists as a well-defined, genuine variety. In California, it is presumed to be wanting, as Dr. Newberry did not encounter any specimens in his explorations; but in the wooded sections of the Cascade Range, where it exists under a new varietal name, and also in the valley of the Willamet in Oregon, it is by no means an uncommon occupant. It is in the New England, Middle Atlantic and Northern Central States that these birds are to be seen to best advantage, and in greatest numbers. West of the Mississippi, if we exclude Eastern Kansas, Southern Iowa and the whole of Missouri, they occur, if at all, in comparatively small and isolated parties.

In regions which these Grouse inhabit, they are permanent residents, and are never known to move southward with the retreat of warm weather. They are capable of adapting themselves to climatic variations with ease, but not so readily to surface irregularities and their natural concomitants. Dense woods, craggy mountain-sides, and the borders of streams, are noted places of resort. Lowlands, especially such as are invested with thick growths of small bushes and tall rank grasses, are not infrequently chosen. When in quest of food and gravel, they are known to quit their favorite haunts, and betake themselves to the open road, where groups may be seen absorbed in feeding. Not to that extent, however, when the rustle of a moving leaf, or the crackling of a twig, would pass unnoticed. The slightest noise causes a temporary suspension of labor, and a shudder of surprise. All of a sudden, and in the most perfect harmony, all heads are raised and pointing in the direction whence the noise proceeded. The keen visions of these birds are not slow in discerning through the gloomy recesses the presence of danger. Should nothing of an alarming character manifest itself, a short parley ensues, and business is resumed, but not with the same earnestness and apparent lack of care as before. Greater caution is observable, and every effort taken to prevent an ambuscade. But let the cause of the alarm, in the shape of clog or man, be close at hand, and the birds immediately strike for the cover, either on foot, or by means of flight. The latter method is only adopted in extreme cases, when the other course would be attended by disaster and probable ruin. In the exercise of their cursorial powers, they move with remarkable swiftness, as with head depressed, and tail expanded, they run for their lives. A pile of brushwood, or an impenetrable jungle, when near, is rendered subservient. There they manage to conceal themselves for a time, and thus recover breath. If closely pursued, and in danger of being trampled upon by the foot of the huntsman, or lacerated by the fangs of his quadrupedal friend, they await the opportune moment when, with sudden, whirring wings, they cleave the elastic ether, and vigorously press forward to some transitory haven of security, but to fall once more in the way of their relentless persecutors. These flights are so well-timed and unexpected that many an experienced gunner is thrown off his guard, and when, at last, he has recovered from his surprise and collected his thoughts, feels vexed at himself for allowing his equanimity to become unsettled by so familiar a strategem. He finds it useless to repine, but endeavors to choke down the bitter sigh of disappointment that arises, as he presses forward to further adventures.

Like the common domestic Hen, these Grouse are strictly gregarious, especially during the autumnal and winter months. The flocks which they form vary in numbers, and when disturbed while feeding, scatter in all directions, each member seeking only its own individual safety and wellbeing. But after the lapse of a few minutes, they become reassured, and begin to gather simultaneously about the same spot, traveling the entire distance on foot. The utmost circumspection and vigilance are always exercised in these backward movements. Scarcity of food occasionally causes these birds, where very numerous in mountainous districts, to migrate to other places. These journeys are usually effected about the middle of October, they then being in excellent order and in great demand for the table. Audubon witnessed, in the fall of 1820, an immense number in transitu from Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, to Kentucky. Many of these became the prey of man, while their companions who had escaped destruction sought, with the return of Spring, their own cherished haunts. This disposition to lead a roving, migratory life, as a general thing, is not hereditary, and is seldom undertaken. Plenty of food is usually to be found in localities which these birds frequent, and the necessity does not exist. Where there is a paucity of appropriate food-stuffs, such as acorns, the seeds of the beech and of the various species of birch, they do not hesitate to devour the buds of the Mountain Laurel, which imparts a poisonous character to their flesh. When severely pressed by hunger, they feed upon dry bark, the insects that harbor in the creviced trunks and branches of trees, and even stray to the roads that wander through their gloomy retreats, and pick at the hard, frozen horse-droppings which they chance to encounter. But when Spring returns, and renews her bond of faith with mother Earth, they more than make up for their scanty winter fare, and feast with fastidious appetites upon the now tender and juicy buds of the black birch, which gives a peculiar and toothsome flavor to their flesh, that has acquired for them, in some localities, the name of Birch Partridge. For a brief spell every other interest is now absorbed in that of unrestrained feasting to which the sexes submit themselves with all the abandon of civilized humanity. The middle of March, or the close of the month devoted by the ancient Romans to purifications and fastings that precedes, when the weather is favorable, marks a change in their life. This era is announced by a loud druming noise which is everywhere to be heard. Standing upon a tall rock, or a fallen log, in some secluded woods or other locality, the author of this noise may be found. His altitude and demeanor must be observed to be appreciated. Once seen, he can never be forgotten. Arrayed in his new spring-suit, he is a being not to be despised. But this is not all. His beautifully-contracted neck, broad, expanded, fan-like tail, and elevated feather-tufts that ornament both sides of his neck, as he struts about with all the grace 'and dignity of some pompous lord or duke, render him of no mean importance, and add greatly to his attractiveness.

But it is its final actions that impress the beholder with wonder and admiration. The hitherto trailing wings now assume a condition of rigidity, and commence a firm, but slow, downward and forward movement, which steadily increases in power and rapidity, until the swiftly-vibrating wings appear only as a semi-circular outline of mist above the bird, thus giving rise to a sound which may be appropriately likened to the reverberations of distant, muttering thunder. These sounds are most generally heard during the cool hours of the morning, when the spirits are buoyant after a night of refreshing slumber. But as the day advances, they are less frequent, and irregular. So nicely can they be imitated, that many a bird is drawn to his doom, when advancing to meet a supposed antagonist.

As the drumming of the Ruffed Grouse is as often heard in fall as in spring, it has long been a mooted question as to its significancy as the call-note of the male during the breeding-period. But there cannot be the least doubt of the correctness of this interpretation, for we have the most incontestable proof of it in the responsive actions of the female. Nuttall is probably correct in ascribing the autumnal exhibition of the same wonderful power to self-gratification, and in affirming it to be, in many instances, "an instinctive expression of hilarity and vigor."

Besides the peculiar drumming sound which the males produce during the love-season, they give expression to vocal utterances which are no less remarkable. These are generally given forth when about to arise from the ground, and consist of two well-defined and characteristic notes. The first may be described as a sort of cackle, repeated several times in lively succession. The other, which closely follows in its wake, is a peculiar lisping whistle, which has not inaptly been compared to the cry of a young bird. These notes doubtless play a part in the reconcilement and bringing together of the sexes after their temporary separation.

While the courting-season continues, it is not an uncommon occurrence to find a single male in the midst of several females, before whom he is engaged in showing off his many good qualities and graces. In such a dilemma, it is no easy matter to make a selection. Enamored by so many, he is sometimes disposed to be gay and trifling, and to dally with the affections of some pure and simple-minded female. Thus we often find him carrying on the most cruel flirtations. But when he does bring himself earnestly down to the business of choosing a partner, he does not go about it in an uncertain, hesitating manner, but makes his selection with promptness and dispatch. The successful female, proud of the honor conferred, at the call of her lord, forsakes the group of unmarried sisters, and follows him wherever he listeth. The warmest tokens of affection and regard are lavished upon her, and woe to the rival who should appear upon the scene while these amours are being enacted. Should such an event come to pass, the intruder is at once assailed, and a long and bloody encounter ensues, which results in the death of one or other of the combatants, but never in the complete vanquishment of the defensive party. Instances are known where males have treated their first choice with cruel indifference, and ultimately deserted them. Such things could not otherwise be when the question of polygamy comes to be considered, for it is a fact that both birds are slightly promiscuous in their intercourse, although the tendency is more marked upon the part of the male.

The time of mating varies somewhat with climate, and with the conditions of the season. In the warm sections of the South it occurs late in March, or early in April. But further north where winter still lingers with frosty coldness, the latter month is well nigh verging to its close, or gliding into the succeeding period, before this essential business is thought of. But when it does happen, with but little waste of time, the female withdraws herself from the society of her partner, and repairs to a secluded spot in the midst of a woods, where usually beneath a clump of evergreen, or a pile of brush, or perhaps a fallen log or projecting rock, she hastily scratches a few dry leaves together for a nest. Here she deposits, one by one, in as many consecutive days, her complement of six to twelve eggs, and immediately enters upon the duties of incubation. In this she is alone, the male lending no assistance, not even indirectly by attending to her demands for food. While she is thus occupied, he seeks the company of others of his sex, with whom he remains until the young are nearly full-grown, when he joins the family, and dwells with it until spring. The period of incubation ranges from nineteen to twenty days.

When first hatched, the young follow their mother, and soon learn to comprehend her clucking call, as well as act responsively thereto. Few mothers are more devoted to their children, and it is a rare occasion to find one who is more courageous and wily in their defence. Let her family be surprised by friend or foe, a single note of alarm is all that is necessary to cause the brood to scatter, and with the most clever adroitness to hide themselves beneath a bunch of leaves or grass. So successfully is the concealment accomplished, that a careful and protracted search is often necessary to discover their whereabouts. Often when squatting by the roadside with her brood, the parent is taken unawares. This is the trial which she of all others seems to dread. To save her little ones she perils her own life by venturing upon an assault. Her first impulse is to fly at the face of the intruding party, but sober thought comes to her rescue, and teaches her the folly of such a course. She yields, and the very next moment we find her tumbling over and over upon the ground, apparently in the deepest distress, but soon to recover her self-possession in time to carry out the final piece upon the programme – a ruse in which lameness is imitated with wonderful ingenuity. While the mother is thus agitated, the birdlings are seen to scamper in every direction to places of shelter. Having accomplished her allotted part, the happy mother now flies away, and by her well-known cluck soon gathers her brood together. The cry of the young is a simple peet, which is heard repeatedly during feeding, but only occasionally while nestling. Their food consists of the seeds of various plants, and berries. While able to search for their own food, they derive considerable assistance from the mother.

Such cunning, wee creatures, when first they leave the egg, can only be compared with the young of our barnyard fowls. Dressed in a simple garb, they look but little like their parents. Above they show a uniform reddish-brown or rufous color, which fades into a rusty-white hue below. With the exception of a dusky streak which starts from the posterior part of the eye and crosses the auricular regions obliquely downward, and a whitish bill, they have nothing to diversify the monotony of their coloring. But when they have attained the age of four or five months, they show their heredity so plainly that their identity cannot be disputed or mistaken.

In the adult stage the tail is reddish-brown or gray above, with narrow bars of black. Terminally, it is crossed by a slender band of pale ash, which is preceded by a broader one of black, and this by another of an ashy color. The upper parts are ochraceous-brown, and finely mottled with grayish markings. The lower parts are chiefly white, with broad transverse bars of light brown, which are mostly hidden from view upon the abdomen. Upon the shoulders the shafts of the feathers have pale streaks, which exist in those of the wing-coverts. The upper tail-coverts and the wings are marked with pale grayish cordate spots, while the lower tail-coverts are pale ochraceous, each being provided with a terminal deltashaped spot of white, which is bordered with dusky. The neck-tufts are brownish-black. The male measures eighteen inches in length, and has a breadth of wings of seven and two-tenths inches. The tail is about seven inches long. The female is smaller than the latter, with similar colors, but has less prominent tufts upon the sides of the neck.