The Tanager People 



By Joseph Grinnell 



It is a larji^e tribe, of numerous species in America, but the scarlet tanager 

 alone may well be termed the Red Man of the forest. Native of the New World, 

 shy. a gypsy in his \\a\-. harmless to agriculture, a hunter by nature, fascinating 

 tfi all eyes that light on him. 



It is as if Nature had a surplus of red and black the day she painted him, 

 and was determined to dip her brush in nothing else. This contrast of color has 

 made him one of our most fainiliar birds. But, as with many another of striking 

 hue, the scarlet tanager has an indifferent song. Among our flowers like the 

 scarlet geraniums and hibiscus, we do not look for the fragrance that distinguishes 

 the pale violet or wild rose. It is as if the bright tint of bird or blossom is 

 sufficient of itself, and nature would not bestow all virtues upon one individual. 



Still the musical qualities of this tanager are not to be despised. His few 

 notes ma}' be almost monotonous, but they are pensive, even tender when 

 addressed to his dear companion, for whom his little breast holds warm affection. 

 She, too, at nesting-time, utters the same pensive note, and the two may be 

 noticed in the treetops, \vliis])ering to one another in low tones. 



It is not for his song, therefore, that we seek the bird, but hearing the song, 

 we would see the singer. And who can blame tis? \\'e love the deeper tints of 

 sunset and sunrise, the red and yellow of autumn leaves, the red glow of the 

 prairie fire, the tint of the Baldwin apple and the sops o' wine. A tree of dull 

 green apples in the orchard, though of finer flavor, will be neglected, more 

 especially by the "wandering boy," for its crimson-cheeked neighbor of indifferent 

 relish. The red ap]iles of the naked winter loough, left on purpose for Jack Frost 

 and the birds to bite, are said to allure the latter before the paler fruit of the 

 ne.xt tree is disturbed. 



Therefore, when a nature-lover wanders in to the woods in dream mood and 

 the scarlet tanager flits above him amid the green of the foliage, the thrush and 

 the sparrow are forgotten. 



The tanager is discreet by nature, for it is as if he knows that by glimpses 

 only is he best appreciated. Were he less retiring, as bold in habit as in color, 

 sitting on the roofs and fence-posts, swinging the nest pendant from boughs, like 

 the oriole, he would be less fascinating. Rut the tanager is seldom more than 

 half seen ; he is detected for an instant, like a flash, and disappears. 



It is with the eye as with the hand. We would IkiJiI in the grasp of our 

 fingers what we covet to touch or own. .\nd the e\e would retain in its deep 

 fortress, if only for a moment, the tint it feasts on. More especially is this the 

 case if the thing we would hold or see is transitory b\ nature. 



So when we sit down on a half-decayed log bedecked with toadstools, and 

 hear the note of a .scarlet tanager overhead, we listen and are moveless. It is 

 repeated, and 'if we are unacquainted with the bird we may think him to the right 



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