Nests and Eggs of Birds of The United States

While chiefly diurnal in habits, there is good reason for believing all Rails to be partially nocturnal, especially during moonlight nights. At such times they are on the qui vive, and from the tall, motionless bullrushes and reeds among which they harbor, the ear of the nightly pedestrian is startled by the peculiar notes of these birds as they pursue their gastronomic occupations, securely hidden from view by interlacing grasses. The movements of these birds would hardly enable you to locate their presence, so noiselessly are they executed. It is to the loud, lusty crik-crik-rik-k-k-k of some wide-awake fellow as he patrols his favorite marshes that we are apprised of his whereabouts and presence. Instantly the strain is taken up first by one and then another, until the very reeds shake and tremble, as it were, under the impulsive influence. A silence then ensues, which is unbroken save by the heavy croaking of some disconsolate frog as he tunes his pipe to the shrill falsetto of a love-lorn cricket. But the time thus spent is comparatively short. Other considerations demand attention. Scarcely two weeks from the time of their arrival, the males seek out their partners, pledge their troth anew, and lead the way into some bog or morass, where they are not long in making a selection of a suitable spot in which to deposit their nest. In the matter of position the male yields due deference to the judgment of his wife. She having decided upon the spot, which may be either a tussock of grass, the bare ground, or a pile of drift-weed, both birds set assiduously to work to construct their nest. This is merely a pile of weeds or grass, arranged very compactly, but with little display of taste or design, and hollowed out to the depth of an inch and a half by the bodily evolutions of the builders. Occasionally, a ground-floor of coarse grasses is laid, and upon this is reared a superstructure of yellowish grasses, which reminds one of the home which the Bobolink is accustomed to build. A few hours of labor at least are all that are necessary to construct one of these domiciles. Wilson mentions a nest that was placed in the bottom of a tuft of grass, and rendered almost inaccessible by the boggy character of the locality. It was composed entirely of old wet grass and rushes. A north-east storm visiting the spot, and an extraordinary rise of tide following, the eggs were floated out, and lay stranded upon the drift-weed. The female being so strongly attached to her home, still lingered near, and permitted herself to be taken by the hand, without showing so much as the least timidity, much less any exhibition of indignation or disgust.

The number of eggs laid ranges from six to ten. These are deposited in daily instalments of one, the first being usually extruded on the third day subsequent to the completion of the nest. The female takes to the nest almost immediately after the last egg is laid, and continues for a term of fifteen days, when, through her constant, persevering efforts, a little family of children, dressed in suits of blackish down, come forth to gladden the hearts of both parents. The male seems to take no direct part in the incubating process, not even so much as to see that his faithful wife is not in want of food. The care of the young devolves also upon her, and when they are endangered, she manifests the most intense solicitude, and seeks by all the devices known to her nature, to lead them into places of safety. Like many smaller, but more courageous species, she is not known to wage a warfare in their defence, but endeavors by strategy, and at the risk of her own life, to save these jewels of her affection – these pledges of her regard – from the snares of the fowler. As soon as hatched, or shortly afterwards, the young are able to quit the nest, and hide themselves among the grass. Their food consists of worms, insects and seeds of grasses, which they procure in situations which they frequent. In their earliest stage the mother helps them to find the essential articles, pretty much after the fashion of the Quail, but as they grow, her responsibility is in a measure abated, and they are left to their own resources. In about four or five weeks they withdraw themselves from her sheltering care entirely, but continue to dwell in the same haunts until the severity of the weather calls them to warmer climes, when both young and old leave together. Their departure is almost unheralded by vocal manifestions, and is slowly executed, the birds stopping from their migrations, at times, to attend to the demands for food. So the journey often requires a fortnight, and even longer time, for its completion.

With the retiring habits of these birds, and their tendency to settle in almost inaccessible meadows and swamps – the most secluded and farthest recesses of which they seek when approached – it is not surprising that they should be deemed less common than they are in actual reality. When better understood they will be shown to be in other sections as abundant breeders as they are in New England and the Middle Atlantic States. When observed, which is rarely the case, they stand or run with the tail erect. A peculiar jerking of this appendage upwards, is a noticeable feature which gives them a somewhat comical appearance. In flight the legs hang as is usual with waders, and are not tucked up, so to speak, as in the case of our smaller land species. They fly to a short distance, and at the moment of alighting, run off with remarkable speed, a movement which the depending position of the feet enables them to accomplish with comparative ease.

Such is the resemblance which obtains between the eggs of this species and those of the Clapper Rail, that were it not for the much smaller size of the former, they could not be readily discriminated therefrom. In form, color and markings they are such perfect counterparts, that they seem to be the same in miniature. Their form is ovoidal, and they are marked with reddish-brown and obscure spots of lilac, the former predominating, upon a deep buff, or creamy background. They vary somewhat in dimensions, even in specimens from the same locality. In New England eggs are found which range from 1.31 to 1.52 of an inch in length, and from .90 to .95 in width. Others from Pennsylvania have an average measurement of 1.28 by .94; from New Jersey, 1.20 by .95. From the Carolina Rail, which they approach in size, they may be readily distinguished by the color, a fact which all amateurs would do well to bear in mind. A careful observance of the difference in the two grounds, which in the Carolina Rail is a yellow-drab, with a faint olivaceous tinge, will prevent the one from being mistaken for the other. In regard to the number of broods annually raised there may be some difference of opinion. Wilson thought that the species was double-brooded. He was led to this opinion by having come into possession of young birds, a few days old, in the month of July. But these may have been the first hatching of birds whose early efforts had been prevented by tidal overflows, or some other of the numerous disasters, which are the natural concomitants of boggy situations.

The drawing represents a nest of this species, typical in character, and placed in position. The eggs are of the natural size and figured in the foreground, while the birds are diminished and put in the distance. The birds are exhibited in proper colors, and may be easily identified. The upper parts are olivaceous-brown, the monotony of which is relieved by longitudinal stripes of brownish-black. The throat is white, fore-part of the neck and breast bright-rufous, abdomen and under tail coverts transversely banded with black and white, the former being the broader; upper wing coverts bright rufous-chestnut and the under wing coverts with transverse white lines upon a field of black. These sombre colors are rendered less irksome by the presence of a reddish-white line from the base of the bill over the eye, and by the bright-red iris. The female differs but slightly from the male in being slightly shorter, and in having the breast of a paler hue. The white on the chin and the throat appears also to be more conspicuous and fuller. The total length of the male, from tip of bill to extremity of tail, is seven and three-quarter inches; the wing is four, and the tail about one and a half.

Plate XXXV. – GEOTHLYPIS TRICHAS, (Linn.) Caban. – Maryland Yellow-Throat

Beautiful, active and intelligent, this species claims superiority over most of its fellows, and is an object of interest and admiration to the enthusiastic student. It should be better known among the masses, as few birds are more sociable and confiding, and, on first appearance, none display stronger attachment to man. It visits his fields and by-ways, in company with the Sparrows, and makes itself at home. But as the season advances, and the time of nesting draws near, such places are forsaken for quieter retreats.

Throughout its extended range, which embraces the whole of the United States from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada and Nova Scotia, and from the Atlantic to the Western Ocean, it displays the same peculiar habits which we observe in Eastern Pennsylvania. It combines the attributes of the Titmice with those of the Flycatchers, moving in and out the foliage and branches of bushes with great dexterity, sometimes hanging from the latter with head downward, in its search for food, or, perched upon a small twig, seizing a passing insect with equal ease and skill. Whilst feeding it is not strictly arboreal. Individuals sometimes betake themselves to the ground, and glean among the dead leaves.

Although occasionally found in cultivated grounds, where its presence is due to the noxious insects which there abound, yet a stronger preference is manifested for wild uncultivated fields, especially such as are overgrown with briers and low bushes. Low lands are more attractive than high, the tendency to humidity always insuring a greater supply of favorite food-stuffs. Its immense service in the destruction of injurious grubs, which contribute largely to its fare, would make it a desirable companion to have about us, but its humble mode of life exposes it to dangers from prowling cats and vicious boys.

When in quest of game its presence is always indicated by the peculiar cry it emits, which resembles that of the Summer Yellow-Bird. These notes are expressed in lively, quick succession, and sound like the syllables wht-whi-ti-têê-têë. In a state of inactivity, a simple twich is all that escapes the hitherto agile creature, and is uttered in such a low voice as to more than half impress the listener that the bird is weary after its long, protracted search, or is verging towards that state when the spirit is well-nigh overcome by sleep. It is during these foraging exploits that our friend's character is seen in its best light. It is not the timid bird that one is disposed to consider it when watching its backward and forward movements among low shrubbery on such occasions. It will permit a near approach by man, even when resting from its labors, and displays not more than half the suspicion which birds ordinarily do.

Like most Warblers, this species regulates its coming, in a measure, by the character of the season. When the spring is early, we have known it to arrive during the last of April. Ordinarily its appearance is noticed from the first to the tenth of May. In California, where the climate is more uniform than in the East, birds have been seen in migration on the seventeenth of April; but in New England, where mild weather is retarded by meteorological causes, their advent does not occur until the beginning of the succeeding month. As is common with most other birds, the sexes do not arrive singly, except in occasional instances, but always in pairs, which seems to warrant the supposition that mating had been solemnized in the land of their winter's sojourn preparatory to leaving.

So little is the attention engrossed-by feeding, that the male does not appear to be utterly unmindful of his partner, as is sometimes the case with other species. Should one or the other stray away, the bird that first becomes apprised of the separation, signals the fact, which is instantly responded to by its companion. Directed by the sounds, they soon come together, and renew operations as before.

A few weeks thus spent suffice to blunt the keen edge of appetite. The male is the first to announce his weariness of such a life. In a few quaint syllables, cognizant to his partner, and perhaps to some of his nearest kin, he states his desire, and awaits her approach. Does she hesitate? In the same lively and pleasing manner he repeats it, this time with greater fullness and variation. Again and again he does the same, and at last his efforts are crowned with success. Pleased with his charming voice, she yields to his pertinacious coaxings, and desists from her labors.

The song of the males, for such naturalists have been pleased to designate the language which the lords of the feathered creation are prone to deliver to their intended partners on certain occasions, bears a strong resemblance at first to the song of the Summer Yellow-Bird. But when at its height, about the fifteenth of May, the likeness is not so marked. It consists merely of a few short syllables, repeated rather quickly but uniformly, and with a loud, clear, distinct and ringing intonation. In syllabic language it may be somewhat accurately represented by têê-whit-ti-têë-whït-t'î-têë-whit-ti.

As fond as this species seems to be of cultivated grounds whilst feeding, we have never known it, from personal observation, to build in similar situations. For purposes of nesting it generally seeks the retirement of woods where there is a dense growth of bushes, or waste fields where brambles are quite abundant. Occasionally the nest occupies the centre of a huge skunk-cabbage, or a tussock of grass, in the midst of a swamp, or alongside of a stream of fresh water. In certain localities moist places are chosen rather than elevated ones. In others the converse is true. Even in the same locality, the birds manifest a preference one year for lowlands, and the very next for those which are high and dry. Perhaps the character of the season does much in rendering these changes necessary. A wet spring, if long and protracted, would, by increasing the amount of water in swampy situations above the average, make them undesirable resorts, and thus drive the birds to the necessity of seeking less humid and less exposed places. At such times, high grounds, by obtaining more than the usual amount of moisture, would become suited to the existence of insects, which form no mean part of their living. In dry seasons, moist localities would be chosen, as they are more advantageously situated for obtaining supplies of food than others.

The nest is almost invariably placed upon the ground, in a thick bed of dry leaves, in a clump of grass, at the roots of low bushes, or under the shelter of a pile of brush, sometimes being covered by surrounding leaves, and quite as often exposed from above. When built directly upon the ground, it occupies a depression thereof; but when built in a tussock, this precaution is not taken, as the necessary security is afforded by the enveloping grasses or sedges. According to Dr. Brewer, nests are occasionally found four or five feet from the ground, among the matted branches of high weeds. A typical nest consists of loose leaves on the outside, which are held in position by the walls of the cavity in which they are placed, or by surrounding grasses. Within is placed a superstructure of dry grasses, twigs, strips of dry bark, and leaves of sedges. The lining consists of fine strips of the bark of the chestnut and wild grape vine, which are arranged with great care and compactness. In depth these structures vary from five to six inches, and have an external diameter of two and a half inches at the base, and three at the mouth. The cavity is usually three inches deep, and about two and a quarter wide. When we come to compare the entire fabric with the size of the builder, we are at a loss to account for the disproportion.

The work of building such a bulky domicile does not fall to the lot of the female solely, but is the result of the combined labor of both birds, who prosecute their task with commendable diligence and patience for a period of five days, when they are rewarded with the sight of a finished home. Nothing now remains to be done but to furnish the capacious apartment with its wee, spotted treasures. This cannot be commenced immediately, as sufficient time must be allowed for the walls to become properly seasoned. Two or three days at the utmost are all that are necessary. On the fourth day the female deposits her first jewel, and, where not interrupted, renews the same duty day by day, until she has furnished her allotted quota. She immediately commences the incubating process, occasionally not before the succeeding day, and for ten long days is thus engaged, when the appearance of the young reminds her that the labor is ended. While thus employed the male, actuated by the purest affection, administers to her necessities with commendable alacrity. He only forsakes her for food. When the nest is assailed, by the most pitiful cries and the practise of various ruses, he endeavors to lead his enemies away from it. His stratagems often succeed with the unsophisticated, but with the professional collector they are of little avail.

The young are carefully nurtured. Their food consists of the larvæ of small beetles, caterpillars of various kinds, and diptera. At the age of twelve days they are able to leave the nest, but remain under parental surveillance for a week longer, when they are obliged to shift for themselves, being permitted, however, to enjoy the society of their parents. Early in September, both young and old take their departure, the greater portion retiring to Mexico, Guatemala and the West Indies, while a few remain along our southern borders.

The plumage of the young bird is brownish-olive above, with a tendency to stronger virescence on the rump and tail. The eyelids and entire lower parts are a light buff, which is relieved by a tinge of yellow on breast and lower tail-coverts. The male in the spring is olive-green, somewhat grayer anteriorly, and has the forehead and a broad band through the eye to the neck a pure black, margined superiorly with grayish-ash. The chin, throat, breast, under tail-coverts and edge of wing bright yellow, passing into whitish in the abdominal region. The wings and tail are slightly olive, and devoid of marks. The bill is black, and the feet flesh-colored. In the female, during the same season, the crown is generally brownish, the black and ash on the head wanting, and the yellow of the under parts pale and restricted. From its congeneric brethren this species differs in the absence of a clear ash upon the throat. Its length is about four and three-fourths inches, wing two and one-fifth, and tail two and three-tenths.

The eggs of the Yellow-Throat range from four to six in number, the complement doubtless depending upon locality, and the peculiarity of the female. In Eastern Pennsylvania, Southern New Jersey and Delaware never more than four have been found in a nest, and this has been the experience of others from even the most widely separated localities. In color the eggs are a beautiful crystalline-white, and are dotted and blotched around the larger extremity with reddish-brown and dark umber. Specimens are often found with curiously-shaped lines and dashes of remarkable fineness. Their size varies with latitude, the largest coming from Kansas, and the smallest from Georgia. The average measurement of several sets from four different localities is .04 by .53 inches. We incline to the opinion that but a single brood is annually raised, although there may be instances where more than one has been observed. In most cases, where the birds have been late in rearing their young, the hasty collector, and even recorder of facts, may conclude that he has a sure proof of his position. Careful watching, carried through a decade, has convinced us that in Philadelphia the species is single-brooded. Like most of our smaller birds, the nest of this species does not escape the visits of the Cowbird, who, taking advantage of the absence of its owners, embraces the opportunity of depositing two of her own eggs, which she trusts the female Yellow-Throat will adopt and rear as her own.

Plate XXXVI. – SITTA CAROLINENSIS, Gmelin. – White-bellied Nuthatch

This well-known species inhabits the eastern portions of the United States from the Atlantic to the Rocky Mountains, being replaced in the territory west of the great central plains by a well-marked variety. In the British Provinces it has not been observed to attain a higher northern range than Nova Scotia. Although rather common in the maritime portions of its somewhat extended habitat, yet it is less so than in regions farther inland.

Being a permanent resident among us, there is no reason why the enthusiastic lover of birds should not render himself familiar with its history. In its own native haunts, notwithstanding, the shyness which seems to characterize its nature, ample opportunities are afforded. From early morning until sunset, except when concerned with domestic relations, but more especially during the season when winter rules the year, its presence may be seen and heard.

When first noticed, its peculiar winding movements around the trunks and branches of trees, in every conceivable direction and position, cannot fail to rivet the attention, and excite surprise. It recalls to mind many of the motions which the smaller Woodpeckers and Titmice assume. To a novice a word of explanation as to the cause thereof may be necessary. But to one who has been accustomed to using his eyes and ears aright, the solution to the problem soon becomes apparent. The loud, sonorous tap against the hardened bark, and the listening attitude which the bird takes on, are the key to the mystery. Let but the stir of some hibernating insect, or the perforations of an undermining grub, be heard, and in almost the twinkling of an eye, its whereabouts is discovered, and the thoughtless culprit dragged out and made to pay the penalty of an inglorious death for such rashness. Quite as often the detection of food is due to the keen vision which these birds possess as to that of a well-trained ear, for in their persistent and indefatigable searchings in crack and crevice, the most apparently lifeless beetle, or even the death-like ovum of the same, does not escape their scrutinizing gaze.

Should the reader, in his rural walks, visit the haunts of the Nuthatches, it is more than likely that his presence would be greeted by the strong nasal cry of honk-honk, which these birds are accustomed to emit, at somewhat regular intervals, while foraging. Not that they adopt this method of accosting their human brethren upon such occasions, but what we mean is, that the birds will be heard, in most instances, before there are any bodily manifestations. Even after one has located with tolerable precision the tree from which emanated the sounds, a few minutes will generally elapse before the authors thereof are clearly outlined against the dark background of the bark. To insure success, without waste of time, the eyes should be directed upward, as the middle and higher branches of the tallest trees are usually chosen for the purposes of feeding, the lowermost being seldom resorted to.

Besides the larvæ of beetles, mature forms of elaters and buprestians constitute a large share of their winter diet. As winter lapses into spring, and there is a consequent increase in the numbers, as well as kinds of insects, their bill of fare is enlarged, certain new species of coleoptera and a few ants being added thereto. When the tulip-tree is in blossom in May, many may be seen delving into its floral treasures for the numerous small insects which are attracted thither. Earlier, the cone-like fruit is visited, and rifled of its samara-shaped seeds. By some writers it is claimed that, like its European congener, our species collects and stores away the fruits of nut-bearing trees. This is an undisputed fact, as different species of acorns have been seen securely wedged in between the bark and outer woody layers of trees, and Nuthatches in positions as to lead to the suspicion that they had placed them there. In fine, birds have been seen engaged in this identical business.