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Bird Portraits

THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE

The arrival of the Orioles in the first week of May marks for many people the return of spring. The males come first and take possession at once of our streets and gardens, calling from the elms, or dashing into the cherry trees white with blossoms. The females arrive a day or two later, and the work of house-hunting begins soon after. In the selection of a nesting site, the judgment of the female alone is naturally allowed to have entire weight. The male is politely anxious, flying from twig to twig, as if recommending them; but the female knows that she must sit for days over her precious eggs, and be swung by all manner of storms, in whatever situation she finally selects; she means, therefore, to be sure before she builds.

The number of trees on which hang two nests, one evidently older than the other, is very noticeable, and probably means that the same pair return to the same tree to build. Many people have an idea that birds use the same nest in successive years, but it does not seem likely that such a skillful architect as the Oriole would patch up the old nest, when with a few days' labor she can build a new one, clean and strong, and very likely improved by her former experience. The materials used for the construction of the nest are tough, fibrous strips for the framework, and softer materials for the lining. The female often comes to the clothesline and twitches out some threads, and she is very thankful for twine or similar material hung out where she can find it. Lowell, who loved the Oriole next after the Bobolink, hung out gay-colored threads for his birds, and was rewarded with the sight of a brilliant nest.

The female builds at first a framework of strong material, which is attached to the several twigs on which the nest hangs. She actually ties knots of this material with her long sharp bill, thrusting the end of the thread through a loop, then reaching over and pulling it tight. Tragedies sometimes occur during this process, the bird becoming entangled in her own thread and choking or starving to death. A bit of comedy is sometimes seen when the Oriole, returning to her half-finished nest, catches a Summer Yellow-bird in the act of stealing some of the material. After the frame is completed, the Oriole works from inside, weaving the web from side to side.

By June, the young hatch, and now the male, who has hitherto had an easy time, becomes very busy bringing food to the young. In a few days, they become old enough to cry for it very vigorously, and this they do so incessantly that their peet-teet becomes one of the characteristic sounds of early summer. By the middle of July, the young leave the nest, and then for a week or two the whole family are met with in the country lanes, the children resembling their mother in color, but easily distinguished by their short tails and the general downy look about the head.

The male suffers an eclipse during midsummer; his cheerful whistle is no longer heard, and we should think that he had already left for the South, did he not resume his strain in August. In fact, he has been moulting; but, unlike the Tanager, he replaces his bright feathers by others as gay, and before he leaves us, he is as bright as when he came. The wild cherry trees are now a favorite resort for the whole family; but by the first of September, they leave the Northern States and return to Central and South America, where they lead a careless life till the approach of spring reminds them of the village elms a thousand miles away.

THE WOOD THRUSH

It is difficult to speak without enthusiasm of the song of a Thrush. He seems wholly to outclass all other birds. When a Rose-breasted Grosbeak, no mean singer as our birds go, has finished his song, let a Wood Thrush utter but a phrase of his strain, and the Grosbeak's warble seems commonplace. Except the Thrushes, we have few birds whose song appeals to the imagination as human music does. We listen curiously to the songs of the others, criticise them or comment on them, as we do on a landscape; but let a Thrush sing and we fall into a reverie, recalling sad, tender, or solemn ideas and associations.

The Wood Thrush and the Veery, or Wilson's Thrush, are the common Thrushes of all but the northern part of the Northern States. In the mountains, the Hermit Thrush is found. This bird is generally considered superior even to the Wood Thrush in the purity and solemnity of its cadences. It has one great advantage over its rival; it sings on mountain sides in clear, still air, so that the finest vibrations of its voice come to the ear with perfect distinctness. The song of the two Thrushes is readily distinguished by listening for the phrase ee-o-lee', with which the Wood Thrush regularly opens his chant. The Veery has received its name in imitation of its song, which resembles the syllables vee-ury, vee-ury, vee-ury, each phrase lower in the scale than the preceding.

The Wood Thrush arrives in the Northern States in May, and unlike the Veery, which is strangely silent on its first arrival, the male Wood Thrush announces his presence on the morning of his arrival, by chanting from some low limb his beautiful flute-like notes. In the Middle States, it is a common and almost familiar bird, building in the gardens even of large towns; but in wilder regions, it prefers copses, groves of young trees, and rocky glens, particularly if there is a stream near by. By the end of May the pair have finished their nest, which resembles that of the Robin, but is often composed of less coarse material and is generally placed in the fork of a sapling. The birds often take little trouble to conceal it, sometimes placing it close to a woodland path, and the passer-by becomes aware of its nearness by hearing the harsh, anxious chatter of the parents. The four eggs are blue like the Robin's. The Robin is, in fact, a near relative of the Thrushes, and the relationship is shown not only by the shape of the body and the bill, but by the spotted breast which the young Robins assume with their first plumage. In the Middle States, this relationship seems to have been recognized, as the Wood Thrush is there commonly called the Wood Robin.

While the female is brooding the eggs, the male may be heard day after day from some favorite perch, not too near the nest. The early morning and the late afternoon are the favorite times for all the Thrushes, but on cloudy days or in the cool shades of deep woods, they sing all day. Occasionally the song ceases for several days. Some calamity has befallen the nest; a squirrel or some other marauder has robbed the pair, and there are no more outpourings of joy, till with renewed courage they select some safer spot and build again. In midsummer, the Thrushes become very silent. Occasionally we come upon a group feeding in the cherry or viburnum bushes, but few are seen after August, and by November they are in the tropics. Only the nest filled with snow reminds us of the pair, whose return in May we await with impatience.

THE SCARLET TANAGER

In South America, the Tanagers form a large family, but they send to the more northern of our Eastern States only one representative, the well-known Scarlet Tanager. A sight of this splendid bird properly, therefore, suggests the tropics. The Tanager is considered a rare bird, but it can always be found in suitable situations, and in certain parts of the country is really a common bird. Oak groves are the favorite resort of the bird, and since it does not often visit our dooryards, even in migration, and since we, as a people, do not often visit oak groves, the sight of a Tanager remains for most people a rare and exhilarating experience. The bird, too, is of a rather sluggish disposition, so that even if we visit the spot where a pair are nesting, they display only a rather languid curiosity. The call-note used by both sexes is well worth learning, for by its means our attention is often attracted to a pair which we should otherwise overlook; it consists of two syllables, resembling the syllables tschip, tschurr, uttered in a hoarse voice. The song of the male is such as a Robin with a cold might produce.

Either because the Tanager breeds generally at some distance from man, or because he considers that his brilliant coloring will make up for other deficiencies, the bird has never, as far as I know, done much to win the affection of bird lovers. They have enthusiastic praise for his coat, but little to say of his manners. A story which Wilson tells of a male Tanager is, however, a worthy exception to this statement. Wilson found a young bird which had fallen out of the nest and, having brought it home, put it into a cage with some Orioles. They altogether neglected the orphan, and as it refused to be fed by Wilson, the latter was about to return it to the woods, when a male appeared and tried to enter the cage. Finding this impossible, he went off, but returned with food and fed the young one for three or four days. At last, he showed so unmistakably his desire for the release of the young one that the owner set it free, and the two flew off rejoicing. If this Tanager was a type of his kind, the species need not fear the application of the proverb, "Handsome is that handsome does."

Tanagers arrive early in May, and may then be easily observed, as the trees are not yet in full leaf. Occasionally, in cold storms, all birds seem to keep near the ground, and on such occasions Tanagers are sometimes seen feeding on the ground itself, their splendid colors showing to wonderful advantage. The female is a very plain personage. Olive green above and greenish yellow below, with dull brownish wings, is a combination of color that serves very well to keep her concealed among the leaves. The nest is sometimes placed in orchard trees or even in low bushes, but frequently in tall oaks. It is loosely built of straw and twigs, and contains, by the end of May, from three to four eggs of a light greenish blue, marked with brown and lilac. The young are fed on insects gathered from the leaves. By the end of the summer, the male moults his bright red feathers and comes out in a suit resembling that of the female, but he keeps his black wings and tail. The whole family, clothed in these inconspicuous colors, migrate southward and remain in the tropics till the following spring.