Kitabı oku: «Birds and Nature Vol. 11 No. 2 [February 1902]», sayfa 2

“Finally,” said Mrs. Oyster, “I was taken away from my sea home and lived in a place where the water was nearly fresh for a little while. After ‘floating’ here for a couple of days I was sent to the market and sold as an extra fine oyster. They called me a ‘blue point.’”

Just then Aunt Jennie shook Willis and asked him why he had not gone to bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, surprised to see his oyster lying quietly in its dish, with no snail nor book in sight.

The next morning he told Joseph and his aunt about his dream. “After this,” said he, “when I wish to know things which I cannot notice and understand, I will ask the books. They know so much. Mrs. Oyster did not get to tell me about her cousins who make pearls. I mean to consult some books about them this very day.”

Loveday Almira Nelson.

THE CALIFORNIAN THRASHER
(Harporhynchus redivivus.)

One of the finest songsters among birds is the California Thrasher. Though confined to the coast regions of California, it is quite abundant and seems to bear to that locality the same relation that the brown thrush, or thrasher, does to the thickets further east. The song of this Western Thrasher is exquisitely sweet, and by some it is considered far superior to that of any of the numerous songsters that frequent the woods and brush of the Pacific coast. These lines, written by Mr. Wasson regarding the song of the brown thrasher, apply equally well to the bird of our illustration:

 
O, hark to the brown thrush! Hear how he sings!
Now he pours the dear pain of his gladness!
What a gush! And from out what golden springs!
What a rage of how sweet madness!
 

It is in the morning and in the evening that this Thrasher pours forth its song from some prominent and exposed perch. Then, as it were, with all care dismissed from its mind, all the energy of its being is thrown into a hymn of nature. By some this song is considered richer than that of the mockingbirds, though the Thrasher has but one air.

As a rule the California Thrasher frequents wooded thickets, though it is often found in shrubby fields and hedges, and the dense thickets bordering streams are especially attractive, for here it finds the quiet that its nature seems to crave. Unusually shy and distrustful of man, it generally avoids his habitations, and, like the brown thrasher, resents intrusion with a peculiar and complaining note. Yet the female is inclined to remain on her nest and allow close inspection.

Because of its short wings the movements of this Thrasher are rather heavy. Its flights are short and usually from bush to bush, while constantly opening and shutting its tail. Its life is not confined to trees and shrubs, for it moves easily on the ground, hopping rapidly with accompanying jerks of its tail. It is said that it will scratch in the layer of old leaves under trees, like a domestic fowl when hunting for its food. It prefers insect food and seldom eats fruit of any kind, except when food of its choice is scarce.

Its favorite haunts seem to be the regions of scrubby oak and greasewood brush of the deep mountain gorges. Here it builds its home, which “is a coarse, widely constructed platform of sticks, coarse grass and mosses, with but a very slight depression. Occasionally, however, nests of this bird are more carefully and elaborately made. It is always well hid in the low scrub bushes.”

Both the sexes assist in the care of the eggs, though the male, as befits the father of a family, usually stands guard over the nest, giving a quiet note of warning on the approach of danger. Both sexes are said to be adepts at misleading an intruder, for they will fly away from the nest to the ground or to some thicket at a distance from their home, and there by plaintive notes soon attract the intruder, especially if he is a nest hunter. In this, as well as in all its habits, it so resembles the brown thrasher that it may be considered its representative on the Pacific Coast.

WINTER’S SECRET

 
This beautiful day when the sun so bright
Is giving my garment most beautiful hues,
I’ll just look over the birds in sight —
The living gems on my cloak of white —
And the most precious I will choose.
 
 
I’ll sit in my tent of brilliant blue
And look through its lacings of willow gold,
That shows a flashing of cardinal hue.
Yes, that’s my redbird – I see him. Don’t you?
He’s here if my breath is cold.
 
 
There’s darker spots close by redbird’s flash;
They look like shadows compared to him.
Now they dip in the brook where its waters plash
O’er the willow’s roots with a rippling clash,
And drink from my ice cups so thin.
 
 
I think they are snowbirds. Hello, little mutes!
Just answer me now till I’m sure it is you.
You look with your rusty brownish suits,
As you flirt and dance o’er the frozen roots,
Like the tasseled cords of my shoe.
 
 
Haw! haw! from the treetop laughs out crow.
“Don’t you know I am out with the very best?
I love the sun, and I flap to and fro,
The one black-wing not afraid of the snow,
Though you sometimes call me a pest.”
 
 
And Mr. Field Finch with chestnut hood,
As he swings and sways on his weed perch brown,
Calls in tones that you will not use when you’re good,
“Can’t you see a body? See! I’m here near the wood
Where the berries and seeds rattle down.”
 
 
I’ll now call Robin. Where are you, dear?
I know I saw you this early morn,
A crimson breast in the pine tree here.
Come, Robin, come! I’m sure you are near;
Yes, yonder you sit in that thorn.
 
 
Oh my cloak is so gay and its gems never rest,
But flutter and shine, ’neath the rays of the sun;
So I’ll draw it close to my rugged breast,
And never will say which one I love best —
For I love them all – every one.
 

– Mary Noland.

A QUEER PARTNERSHIP

A fine afternoon of that lovely spring month, May, found me ready for an afternoon collecting among the birds. Leaving home, I made my way to the river bank, and slowly strolled along its banks, finding much to amuse and interest me among the birds and flowers, seeing many old friends and a few new ones. After going about half a mile, I came to a well wooded place on one of the banks where the tall pines found safe homes for the crows, and a few families were raised here every year. A little way back, partly up the hill, was a dead basswood stump or tree, which contained the home of a golden-winged woodpecker or flicker, which I had found a few days before by seeing the bird leaving the nesting hole. As the hole was between 30 and 40 feet from the ground, I put on my climbers and was soon in a position to investigate; so, seating myself on a large limb that branched out just below the nest, I inserted my hand, and got quite a start on catching hold of some soft, downy creature, which I thought must be a squirrel, but imagine my surprise to find that I had secured an adult screech owl from out of the woodpecker’s nest. The owl, which had lain quietly enough in my hands, put an end to my thoughts by suddenly coming to life, and very active life at that, and putting its claws into my hand, prepared to give itself a good startoff. But I had hold of its legs, and as I did not like the way it was holding on, I put it back into the hole, from which in the meantime I had taken an egg, which on examining proved to be the woodpecker’s and not an owl egg. Though the eggs are both white, the woodpecker’s is larger than it is broad and more of a glossy texture, while the owl’s is nearly round and also much larger.

Now was the puzzle, what was the owl doing in the woodpecker’s nest, which was claimed by the latter, as it had deposited an egg in it, and also was seen leaving the nest a day or two before. The only conclusion that I could arrive at was that the owl had taken possession for the day and so turned the woodpecker out.

So far I had not been able to find an owl’s nest, but as I could see by the loss of feathers that the owl had been setting I proceeded to try and find the nest, and decided to try the tree further up; so, leaving the owl in the flicker’s home, I continued my climb to the top of the stub, and found the top rotted away, leaving quite a hollow eighteen inches deep with a small hole through a rotten place in the bark, through which I could see something white, so, carefully putting in my hands, I was delighted to find four young owls which were about ten days old, ugly little things, covered with a dirty white down, with the feathers just commencing to show and with their yellow beaks and large eyes. They did not look a very interesting pet, but still I secured two and left two for the mother owl. I descended the tree and put my treasure safely away in my collecting bag.

I would like to know how the owl and flicker arranged the boarding matter, for I did not get time to go back for a week, when from the woodpecker’s nest I took six eggs and found the two owlets nearly ready to fly, but I saw neither of the old birds. So whether the owl continued to stay with the flicker or not, or whether it had just gone for the day, I shall never know; but still it was interesting to find the two nests on the one tree within three feet of each other, one containing eggs and the other young birds.

The owls that I had taken were safely reared and prove both amusing and interesting pets, but their life while in my keeping we will leave for another time.

D. Welby.

THE BROAD-TAILED HUMMINGBIRD
(Selasphorus platycercus.)

 
When morning dawns * * * *
The flower-fed hummingbird his round pursues;
Sips with inserted tube the honied blooms,
And chirps his gratitude as round he roams;
While richest roses, though in crimson drest,
Shrink from the splendor of his gorgeous breast.
What heavenly tints in mingling radiance fly!
Each rapid movement gives a different dye;
Like scales of burnished gold they dazzling show —
Now sink to shade, now like a furnace glow!
 

– Alexander Wilson.

If we desire to study the Broad-tailed Hummingbird in the regions that it frequents, we must journey to the mountainous district of Western North America. Here it may be found in large numbers, for it is the most common of all the species that frequent the mountains. It seeks its food of insects and honey from the flowers of a prolific flora extending from Wyoming and Idaho southward through Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Texas and over the table lands of Mexico into Guatemala. It is pretty generally distributed throughout the various mountain systems between the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevadas.

Dr. Merriam found the Broad-tails very abundant in the balsam and pine belts of the San Francisco Mountains of Arizona, where their principal food plants were the scarlet trumpet flower and the large blue larkspur. Of their habits he says, “They wake up very early in the morning and go to water at daylight, no matter how cold the weather is. During the month of August, and particularly the first half of the month, when the mornings were often frosty, hundreds of them came to the spring to drink and bathe at break of day. They were like a swarm of bees, buzzing about one’s head and darting to and fro in every direction. The air was full of them. They would drop down to the water, dip their feet and bellies, and rise and shoot away as if propelled by an unseen power. They would often dart at the face of an intruder as if bent on piercing the eye with their needlelike bill, and then poise for a moment almost within reach before turning, when they were again lost in the busy throng. Whether this act was prompted by curiosity or resentment I was unable to ascertain.”

It seems strange and unnatural that so delicate a bird and one so highly colored should frequent localities where periods of low temperature are common. Yet the Broad-tailed Hummingbird prefers high elevations and has been known to nest at an altitude of eleven thousand feet, and it seldom breeds at places lower than five thousand feet.

The males leave for their winter homes very early in the season. Usually this migration takes place very soon after the young birds leave their nests. Mr. Henshaw attributes this movement of the males to the fact that their favorite food plant, the Scrophularia, begins to lose its blossoms at this time. He says: “It seems evident that the moment its progeny is on the wing and its home ties severed, warned of the approach of fall alike by the frosty nights and the decreasing supply of food, off go the males to their inviting winter haunts, to be followed not long after by the females and young. The latter, probably because they have less strength, linger last, and may be seen even after every adult bird has departed.”

Though the flight of all hummingbirds is rapid, that of this species is unusually so. During the breeding season, or at least while mating, the flight of the male is accompanied by a loud metallic noise. This is only heard when the bird is rapidly flying and not when it is hovering over flowers. Mr. Henshaw suggests that this sound may be “analogous to the love notes of other birds.” Though he saw “many of these birds in the fall, it was only very rarely that this whistling note was heard, and then only with greatly diminished force.” He believed that the sound was produced at the will of the bird and by means of some peculiar attenuation of the outer primary wing feather. The nesting places of many of the hummingbirds, as well as that of the Broad-tail, may frequently be located by the peculiar perpendicular flight of the male. They will frequently fly as high as one hundred feet immediately above the vicinity of the nest, repeating the performance several times before alighting on some perch. The female is a faithful mother and will often remain on her nest until an intruder is within a few inches. The nest, though sometimes placed on large branches, is usually built but a few feet from the ground in low bushes or boughs that overhang water.

In their migrations southward the Broad-tailed Hummingbird is frequently found in company with the rufous-backed species, for which it shows an especial animosity. Speaking of these two species, Mr. Henshaw says: “The beds of bright flowers about Willow Spring, in the White Mountains, Arizona, were alive with them in August, and as they moved swiftly to and fro, now surfeiting themselves on the sweets they here found so abundant, now fighting with each other for possession of some such tempting prize as a cluster of flowers, their rapid motions and the beauty of their colors intensified by the bright sunlight, conspired to an effect not soon to be forgotten.”