Nests and Eggs of Birds of The United States

Plate XLII. – BUTORIDES VIRESCENS, (Linn.) Baird. – Green Heron

Contemned by man, and characterized by the most inappropriate and disgusting nickname, with which almost every one who is conversant with the species must be familiar, our subject asks nothing at the hands of humankind, but rather avoids cultivated scenes, and seems to thrive best where civilization has neither sown nor reaped. Within the precincts of grassy pools and almost impenetrable morasses, where dangerous odors exhale, and myriads of slimy creatures drag their slow lengths along, or startle the shades of night with their bass murmuring? the Green Heron delights to dwell. Here he pursues his craft in the society of his friends and near relatives.

Early in April the birds reach the Middle Atlantic States, from their Southern marshy homes, and soon afterwards are found in New England, and other portions to the westward. Their limit in this direction is somewhat circumscribed. The silence of writers upon the subject conduces to the inference that they are not found west of the Rocky Mountains, and the absence of mention by the parties connected with the different government expeditions, shows that they are not to be met with in regions which they visited. In the extreme southern and eastern parts of the region of the Missouri, however, they are to be met with. McIlwraith observed them in Canada West; and in the West Indies, Mexico, and from Central America to Venezuela, they are known to abound. They are mentioned by Gosse in his explorations, and Cory saw them in abundance, during the breeding-season, in the Bahamas. It is possible that many of these denizens of tropical countries migrate to the United States, and associate with their northern brethren that winter in our Southern States, and even pursue their journey to colder latitudes.

For nearly a month after its arrival the Heron is a solitary feeder, and seems to care for naught but the gratification of appetite. Knee-deep in some small stagnant stream or pool, or in the midst of sylvan glade or reedy marsh, he may be seen awaiting his prey. His movements are characterized by remarkable artfulness and skill. The extreme caution evinced by the game he seeks, and its facility to elude pursuit, presuppose the possession of a nicety of address, and of celerity of action. When on the lookout for minnows, and other small fish, he takes up his position by the side of the ditch, and with his long-reaching neck contracted over his breast, prepared for duty, he waits, in statue-like repose, the appearance thereof. The keen, flashing eye bespeaks the anxiety reigning within. He has not long to watch. Soon a luckless little fellow approaches the bank cautiously, when, with one stroke of the bill, as unerring and sudden as that of the blow of a rattlesnake, he is transfixed, and ere he has time to contemplate the condition of affairs, is swallowed entire. Worms, aquatic larvæ and small crabs are eagerly hunted, and captured with wonderful adroitness. It is, however, when in quest of frogs, that he displays the exceeding cunning of which he is capable. These subtle, wary creatures are difficult to surprise, and plunge into the water and mire on the slightest noise or alarm. A few moments elapse before they are sufficiently assured to venture to the surface again, but when they are, the movement is always performed with great caution and circumspection. While the frog is recovering from its fright, the Heron is laying his plans on the oozy flat above. Fixing his penetrating gaze upon the spot where his game disappeared, he steals slowly forward, and patiently awaits the first appearance of the bronzy head, at the sight of which, with almost lightning-like movement, he deals the unfortunate blow; the squirming, wriggling mass of matter is jerked from its watery bath, only to be dashed to death upon stones, and eaten at leisure.

The life of the Heron is not the dull, prosy, slavish one which many writers have pictured, as it is always attended with a certain amount of excitement which gives spice and zest thereto. The abundance of reptilian and other life to be found in places which these birds visit, and the comparative ease with which it is seemingly obtained, render existence a pleasure rather than a burden. They are not the over-anxious, indigent race of beings which their general appearance would lead us to suspect. Living in the midst of plenty, although unsurrounded by green bowers and luscious viands, such as lure their apparently better favored brethren – the rich, gifted oscines – they are pleased with their lot, and doubtless would scorn to exchange it for others. Their lean, lank natures, as commonly supposed, have nothing whatever to do with the character of their surroundings, but are a wise and fitting illustration of the law of design which is everywhere to be seen in Nature.

Of all our Herons, this species displays the least shyness. When disturbed, it mounts upward with a hollow, guttural cry, but soon alights, cranes its neck, and if danger is not threatening, settles back into its usual quiescent state. Either while walking or standing, on such occasions, it is noticed to jet the tail, a habit which it indulges in at somewhat regular periods. In addition to the ordinary scream, other notes are emitted, which resemble the syllables 'k'w, 'k'w, 'k'w. These succeed the others so closely that they may be considered a part of the same call-note of alarm.

Many birds usher in the dawn of the matrimonial period with music. But such is not the case with the present species. To be sure there may be heard the same cries with which it is wont to greet intruding footsteps. The principal indications of its return may be noticed in the preference which the sexes have for each other, and in their endearing behavior. They no longer seek to dwell apart. A week at most is thus spent, when the friendship formed invariably ripens into the stronger feeling of love. This ordinarily happens from the twentieth of April to about the tenth of May. Having mated, the party start off in search of a swampy woods, where, among the branches of some tree, they place their rude domicile.

Some live apart, but the rule is to dwell in companies. It is common to find them and the Night Heron living together on friendly terms.

The nest is entirely built of sticks, with finer ones on the inside, is the work of both birds, and occupies but a short time in building, usually not more than two days. The eggs are deposited at the rate of one a day, chiefly on consecutive days. Incubation commences shortly after the eggs are laid, and is mainly the result of the female, who, for nearly eighteen days, is a very assiduous sitter. While she is thus occupied the male is a faithful guardian and protector. He administers to her his choicest captures, and warns her of coming danger. When the nest is molested both birds hover near the tree, but beyond the reach of danger, and by the most deafening screams, seek to drive away the assailant, but they never venture upon an attack. If the nest has been despoiled, they immediately set to work to repair it; or, if rifled of its treasures, do not long bewail the loss, but proceed to replenish it. Like most of its family, this species places the nest high up in tall trees, although instances have occurred where they were not more than twenty feet from the ground. The young birds are carefully attended and fed by the parents, and do not leave the nest until they are able to fly, which is the case when they are from four to five weeks old. Their food consists at first of worms, larvæ of dragon-flies and aquatic beetles. But as they increase in age, fresh-water crabs, lizards, frogs, grasshoppers, etc., are brought to them in large numbers. They do not mature until the next season. At first they have the head less crested than the adult. The back is devoid of the characteristic long plumes, but has the same glossy greenish color. The neck is simply reddish-brown, while the entire under parts have the white somewhat variegated with dark brown.

The eggs of these birds are from three to four in number, oblong-oval in form, and of a pale light-blue color. The largest egg in a set of four before us measures 1.55 inches in length, and 1.19 in width; the smallest 1.50 in length, and 1.13 in width. Throughout its entire range the species is single-brooded.

Plate XLIII. – CYANOCITTA CRISTATA, (Linn.) Strickl. – Blue Jay

This abundant, beautiful and familiar bird is a resident of the eastern half of North America, from the Atlantic west to Kansas, Eastern Nebraska and Dakota, and from Florida and Texas on the south to the 56th parallel of north latitude. Wherever met with it breeds in greater or less numbers, according as its presence is welcomed or rejected by the imperious lords of creation, and food is readily or with difficulty obtained.

Few species show more striking peculiarities of conduct, and none scarcely exhibit as much sagacity and intelligence. Within its natural haunts it is exceedingly shy and suspicious, and is hardly approachable. Frequent intercourse with man, however, has, in some sections, modified its disposition, and, as a necessary consequence, confidence has taken the place of distrust. This is substantiated by its tendency to nest in places contiguous to the dwellings of man. In Eastern Pennsylvania, a decade ago, it was quite a common occurrence to find a score of birds nesting in a square mile of territory, but, at the present time, the collector considers himself very fortunate if he encounters one-fifth of this number within the same area, and these only in localities whose solitude is seldom unbroken by the tread of human footsteps. In the wooded regions of Iowa, Mr. Allen found this species quite as trustful as the Black-capped Titmouse, and in Illinois, reduced to a semi-domesticated condition. Within the former State a pair of birds were found nidificating under the window of a house, in a lilac-bush, and this, too, in one of the most prominent and frequented streets of the town of Richmond.

A curious behavior marks the species' first acquaintance with human society. The movements of man are followed with noteworthy pertinacity, the slightest action being carefully scanned, but our feathered friend never ventures too near at first. After frequent interviews at a wary distance, if undisturbed, he gradually approaches nearer and nearer, and in time comes to regard him with kindly favor. Sometimes these advances are received with coldness, and the most bitter persecutions occur. When such is the case, the Jay takes a dislike to man, and shuns his society. In his rural retreats this bird is the enemy of the hunter, and often provokes his ire and vengeance by its tantalizing behavior. When he is in pursuit of game, it takes great delight in following him, and, by its seemingly distressing cries, seeks to warn its feathered neighbors of approaching danger.

Though occasionally found within cultivated regions, yet these birds affect the shelter of dense forests, where they can pursue their craft with undismayed tranquillity. It is in such quarters that they are mostly to be seen in winter, searching for the eggs of insects. When there is a scarcity of such diet, the fruits of the oak, beech, birch and pine are hunted and devoured. Large numbers of beetles, some terrestrial in habits, also contribute largely to their sustenance. With the return of spring, insect life is more rife, and we find them feeding upon grasshoppers and caterpillars of every description. Like the Crow, the Jay is pre-eminently omnivorous, although preferring animal to vegetable matters. In the gratification of its appetite for the former, it is led to destroy the eggs and young of smaller birds, and even to kill those that are full-grown. Such merciless conduct detracts from its general good character, and often conduces to its destruction. But the good which it accomplishes, as evidenced above, outweighs in tenfold proportion the mischief committed, and should encourage us to desist from our persecutions, and accord to it a generous welcome. Its depredations upon the garden and farm are so trivial, that they do not warrant the abuse which thoughtless farmers are wont to lavish upon these feathered benefactors. To favor our readers with some idea of the good which has been accomplished in some portions of the country, we cannot do better than give the substance of Dr. Kirtland's estimate of its character, as given by Dr. Brewer. When the former gentleman first settled upon his farm he observed that every wild cherry and apple tree was well-nigh denuded of its leaves by the tent-caterpillar. The evil was so widespread that all efforts to counteract it seemed hopeless. At this crisis the Jays made their appearance and established colonies. The caterpillar constituted a ready diet for their young, and was preyed upon so extensively, that in a short time, not one was seen in the neighborhood.

Whilst feeding, the Jay is both silent and vigilant, save when disturbed, when he signifies his discontent by a harsh, petulant cry, which sounds like djay, jay, jay. In his more complaisant humor, he is by no means an unmusical fellow, but gives expression to a series of vocal sounds which for variety beauty and harmony are truely creditable, and, as Nutall happily notes are by no means unpleasant, and fall in harmoniously with the cadence of the feathered choristers around him, so as to form a finishing part to the general music of the grove. Wilson likens him, among singing-birds, to the trumpeter of the band. His notes are anything but monotonous. At one time he screams with all his power as if actuated by some terrible impulse, and, almost the next instant, greets you with notes as soft and pensive as those of the Bluebird, but to be only followed by others that fairly shock the ear with their unutterable harshness. The latter have been observed to resemble the syllables whèèo-whèèo-wieeo, but the sweet bell-like note almost baffles the powers of description His powers of mimicry, though different from those of the Mocking-bird can hardly excelled by that species. The cries of the Sparrow Hawk are imitated with great pleasure, and so accurately does he mimic the harsh screams of the Red-shouldered and Red-tailed Hawks, that the smaller birds seek their coverts in dismay, and the poultry are thrown into the greatest consternation. When reared from the nest these birds make interesting pets, and in due time learn to simulate every sound they hear not even excepting those of the human voice. A case is cited by Wilson of an individual that had been raised by a South Carolinian, which evinced remarkable intelligence, and which possessed nearly the loquacity of some of the Parrots. It could pronounce several words with remarkable distinctness, and when called, would respond to its name in quite a sociable manner. By fanciers the Jay is esteemed the most ingenious, artful and teachable bird with which they have met.

A peculiarity of the species, deserving mention, is the habit of the sexes to go together during the winter, showing that some kind of attachment exists, even at the period when many birds, not gregarious, find it most to their interest to lead solitary lives. This disposition to go in pairs may be the beginning of a tendency to gregariousness, such as prevails among some of its near cousins, or it may be considered as the last vestige of a habit that was once predominant. Cases have been observed where the sexes dwelt apart, which leads to the suspicion that the species is surely and inevitably gravitating towards such a state. In the season of cold and scarcity, when most of our resident birds are too much concerned with the procurement of food to permit the social relations to have a moment's sway, the life of a celibate seems to be more fitting, and in very many cases is one of preference. While these birds thus continue to keep together, possibly through force of long-established habit, yet they do not manifest the slightest tendency to matrimony, until Nature has sufficiently recovered from torpor to insure a living for their offspring. Not very fastidious in appetite, and easy to please, almost any kind of insect diet answers. Consequently, with the early dawning of April, but never later than the fifteenth of the month, a change comes over them. Less anxiety is manifested for food-matters, and more friendly relations established. The sexes consort together much, and after a few days of courtship, which business is seemingly unmarked by any great display of form, settle down to the prosy realities of life. Nidification is now entered into with commendable zeal. For this purpose a forest or orchard tree is generally chosen, although a low bush is sometimes made subservient. In retired localities a preference is shown for the pine. The selection of a site never consumes much time. With old birds it requires careful and diligent searching for a day or two, but in the ease of inexperienced individuals, the time may be protracted for nearly a week. Where permitted to rear their progeny unmolested, a strong attachment is shown for the same neighborhood, and instances occur where the same pair dwell and breed in some cherished haunt for several years in succession.

In the construction of a home both birds labor with the utmost diligence. They are usually about three days thus occupied, each bird taking an equal share in the task. The nest is anything but elaborate in its mechanism, and has little to recommend it in artistic design and beauty. It is a strong, coarse structure, placed upon a branch over a crotch, sometimes held in position by adjoining twigs, and is composed of sticks rudely and firmly interwoven. Inside there is usually a lining of dark fibrous roots. In proportions it is almost equal to the nest of the Purple Grackle.

The domicile being completed, on the following day, sometimes not so soon, the female begins to lay, at the rate of one egg a day, her complement of eggs. This is usually five, although nests have been found with six, and others more rarely with four. Incubation is closely attendant upon oviposition, and generally dates from the day following the last deposit. This business is the sole labor of the female for about seventeen days. While she is thus occupied the male encourages her by his presence, or when not foraging, guards the spot from intrusion. He is a very jealous husband, and will not permit any of the feathered denizens of the woods to approach, without resenting it in the most determined manner, and inflicting severe punishment. Human interference is greeted with loud and angry cries, and the infuriated bird is with difficulty beaten off.

In Texas, according to Dr. Lincecum, the nest is built of mud, a substance which is rarely utilized in more northern localities. In situations contiguous to houses, rags of calico, cotton thread, and other similar materials, form a very cosy and suitable lining. Such places are chosen on account of the protection against Hawks which they secure. A single brood is annually raised, and but four eggs constitute a setting. In the abdomen of a female which he dissected there were found one hundred and fifty ova, and from this and the preceding datum, he was led to the inference that the natural life of the Jay was thirty years.

When the young birds make their appearance they are welcomed with demonstrations of great joy by the parents. The latter manifest much solicitude for their safety, and attend to their demands with the most sedulous devotion. They watch over them with unwearying vigilance, and actually imperil their own lives when their helpless charges are in danger. Earthworms, caterpillars, moths of various kinds, beetles, grasshoppers, acorns, berries, etc., make a voluminous bill of fare, but they are always carefully chosen to suit the age and condition of life. Both birds are seldom absent together in search of food. When three weeks old, the young quit the nest, and a fortnight later, are able to gain their own living.

In the drawing we have delineated the appearances which the sexes present when they have attained their full dress. The female, which is shown considerably in the background, is duller than her lord and, in the natural state, is somewhat smaller. The mature male is purplish-gray below, with a tendency to whitening on the throat, belly and crissum. This is diversified by a black band across the lower throat, which is continued up the sides of the neck and head to a space behind the crest, and, also, by a black frontlet with a whitish border. The wings and tail are a rich blue, with bars of black. The greater wing-coverts, secondaries and tail feathers, the central excepted, are broadly tipped with unsullied white, and the tail is much rounded. The bill and feet are black, and the iris of the eye of a hazel color. The length is about twelve and a quarter inches, wing five and thirteen-twentieths, and tail five and three-quarters.

The eggs are rounded-oval in contour, obtuse, and pretty nearly equal at both extremities. They are brownish-olive on the ground, in most cases, although some specimens show a decided olive-drab color. A few darker olive-brown spots, however, relieve the monotony of the background. The average size is about 1.16 inches in length, and .85 in width. We have seen some that varied from 1.04 to 1.21 in length, and in breadth from .81 to .89 of an inch.

Plate XLIV. – TELMATODYTES PALUSTRIS, (Wils.) Baird. – Long-billed Marsh Wren

The above species is restricted to Eastern North America. It ranges from the Atlantic westward to the Missouri, and from Massachusetts to Florida. On our western shores, and in the Middle Provinces of the United States, a closely-allied form takes its place. In Maine and New Hampshire it is notably absent, but in Massachusetts and Vermont and thence southward through New England, where suitable localities exist, it is more or less common. Austin F. Park, of Troy, N. Y., gives it a common breeder in that locality, and the same may be affirmed, on the authority of Rathbun, to be the case in the central portions of the State. In Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware we have found it most abundant during the nesting season. Throughout the Southern States some remain to breed, but the greater number go northward for this purpose. Ridgway states it to be an occasional resident, at least, in the southern counties of Illinois, but farther north a summer sojourner. In the vicinity of Cincinnati, according to Langdon, it seems to be merely a vernal migrant, but possibly spends its summer in the northern counties of Ohio, or in Michigan and Wisconsin. It cannot be denied admission to Minnesota, as is clearly proved by ornithologists from that section. Its occurrences have been noted in Kansas and Colorado by various parties, but it is likely that such references may be set down to the Tule Wren.

The Long-bill spends the winter on our southern border and southward, and only takes up its migratory course when the weather has settled into the blandishments of spring. The grand movement commences about the first week of April, and it is not long before the birds have spread themselves over the country. They reach the Potomac about the middle of the month, Pennsylvania towards the close, and New England about the first of May. When the season is forward, individuals are often met with in the latitude of Philadelphia and Central New York early in April.

Upon its arrival it seeks inland swamps, or the brackish marshes of the seashore, where, amid the splatterdocks of the former, and reeds of the latter, it finds suitable shelter. Here day in and day out, during their entire stay, these birds pursue the even tenor of their lives, happy and contented, never caring, like many of their remoter kin, for the charmed circle of man. Active, energetic and buoyant with life and hope, they skip about the tall, rank vegetation, in every conceivable direction, in quest of insects. Their food consists of grasshoppers, small aquatic grubs, and such like, which they capture with considerable dexterity. If you should be unconsciously led to the favorite haunts of the species, you at once become aware of its presence by the lively, chattering song which emanates from within, and, ere long, you are repaid, if you take any special pains to insinuate yourself within the reeds, by a sight of the quaint, little creature, as he dodges, like some grotesque apparition, in and out among the interlacing grasses. This song, which has been compared by Wilson to a low crackling sound, somewhat analogous to air bubbles forcing their way through boggy ground, and by Audubon, to the grating noise of a rusty hinge, is most difficult of expression. It resembles more nearly the sounds of an insect than those of a bird, and is a low, harsh cry, lacking both harmony and force of expression.