188 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



As instances of "spring arrivals," as we will class them, that have 

 become resident species, we will first mention the well-known blue- 

 bird {Sialia sialis), which, whatever may be the state of the weather, 

 is as lively and full of song from November 1st to April as from April 

 to November ; yet it is still considered as a migratory species, and 

 formerly, we doubt not, was so, even in New Jersey. More interest- 

 are the two instances yet to mention, being those of the common 

 yellow-rumped warbler (Dendroica coronata), which, in scanty num- 

 bers, braves our winters and from the tops of the loftier pines chirps 

 merrily while the snow-flakes fill the air, and later in the winter seeks 

 shelter in protected nooks where the noonday sun has melted the 

 snow and gives us a breath of spring-like air. In several such spots, 

 since February, 1863, when we shot the first "winter" specimen, we 

 have not failed to find several individuals of this species, during each 

 of the winter months, and of their number that thus remain with us 

 there seems to be a steady increase. The same remarks will apply, 

 in part, to that beautiful but not well-known songster, Bewick's wren 

 {Thryothonis Bewickii). They too, in scanty numbers, congregate in 

 sheltered places having a southern outlook, and now, while we are 

 writing (October 29th) we can hear the clear notes of this lively bird 

 as it sits, braving a chilly westerly wind, perched on a leafless branch 

 of a sycamore. 



We have noted now the more prominent features in the migratory 

 habits of our inland birds as they come to us in May from the South, 

 save the one fact, the bearing of which upon the subject we cannot 

 determine, that a large proportion of the birds perform the journey 

 by night, the others wholly by day. At least this is the common im- 

 pression, but it is difficult to demonstrate it. How little, really, we 

 know of the precise modus operandi of migration ! All through April 

 and May, if astir at the earliest dawn, when the resident birds are 

 just starting their morning songs, we will occasionally hear the wel- 

 come notes of some summer bird for the first time. Has it been wing- 

 ing its way northward through the thick, black hours of night, guided 

 by some unknown sense, and no sooner above its old-time haunts than 

 it checks its onward course, and from a familiar tree sings with grate- 

 ful heart a loud thanksgiving glee ? 



If we wander about those quiet nooks and by-ways, where the first 

 thrushes and warblers are likely to be seen these same months, we 

 will find all the day long, and evening too, these birds " consi^icuous 

 for their absence." Not a chirp or twitter, save of the sparrows and 

 tits of all the year, and the lingering snow-birds that seem to regret 

 leaving our pleasant places. Far into the night we may remain, and 

 only the startled chirp of some disturbed or dreaming bird, or the 

 fret and scolding of little owls, greet our ears. The silence of mid- 

 night may pass unbroken, and then, as the first gray streaks of light 

 in the hazy east herald the oncoming day, suddenly a cheerful warble 



