OUR BEST SINGERS 93 



The Veery is a shy bird incHncd to keep well 

 within the cover of its nesting haunts. The most 

 satisfactory way to make his acquaintance is 

 to invade his thicket and sit still until he 

 appears. Only rarely do I see him cross the 

 river from the thick second growth where he 

 nests to the bush-grown bank where he feeds for 

 a time on the black worms that are destroying 

 the leaves of the alders. This is usually a ground- 

 dwelling bird, rarely seen in tall trees. On the 

 ground, or near it, is the nest of leaves and 

 twigs, lined with fine rootlets. The eggs are 

 plain greenish blue. 



The call note of the Veery is a clear whistle, 

 ^^ zvhe-eu''' or '' whoit.^^ The song has been de- 

 scribed as a "sylvan mystery, reflecting the 

 sweetness and wildness of the forest, a vocal 

 will-o-the-wisp. " Mr. Chapman calls it a "weird 

 monotone of blended alto and soprano notes. " 

 Mr. Burroughs describes it thus: "The soft mel- 

 low flute of the Veery fills a place in the chorus of 

 the woods that the song of the Vesper Sparrow 

 fills in the chorus of the fields. It has the 

 Nightingale's habit of singing in the twilight of 

 a June day, and when fifty rods distant, you will 

 hear their soft reverberating notes rising from 

 a dozen throats. It is one of the simplest strains 

 to be heard, as simple as the curve in form, de- 

 lighting from the pure element of harmony and 

 beauty it contains." 



As I hear the Veery on the river bank at night, 

 its tones seem much like those of the Jew's 

 harp; nearer, this song is more reedy and melo- 

 dious. It sounds much like the word v-e-e-r-y 



