Cfje Hububon ^octette* 



SCHOOL DEPARTMENT 



Edited by A. A. ALLEN. Ph.D. 

 Address all communications relative to the work of this 

 department to the Editor, Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y. 



STUDYING THE FALL BIRDS 



No phenomenon of nature is more striking to the observant watcher as he 

 enters the September woods than the change that has been wrought in the 

 realm of birds. The hundreds of voices that claimed his attention during the 

 spring and summer are now hushed and he hears only the occasional notes of 

 a Red-eyed Vireo or a Wood Pewee. So quiet are the tree-tops and so silent 

 the forest floor that he is almost ready to believe that the birds are gone, but, 

 as he follows the border of the woods further, he suddenly finds himself in the 

 midst of a flock of birds even more numerous than the hosts of spring. They 

 are scratching in the leaves, shaking the bushes and weeds, and chippering in 

 the tree-tops in such manner as to announce their presence beyond any doubt, 

 although they are difficult or even impossible to see. 



In the fall the birds are no longer scattered evenly through the woods and 

 fields but have gathered in flocks, sometimes many species together, and are 

 moving slowly southward. Where food is abundant they stop for some time, 

 but they shun all places where food and water are scarce. In spite of their 

 numbers, however, they are difficult to see among the autumn greens and 

 browns, for the familiar liveries of spring have been discarded for suitable 

 travelling attire. Little change has come over the Sparrows and Vireos, whose 

 dull plumages serve for both summer and winter, but the bright Tanagers, 

 Buntings and Warblers have now assumed the modest dress of the females 

 and even the Robin has his red breast tinged with gray. 



Fall is a time when careless observers become hopelessly confused and lose 

 interest in bird-study, but it is the time of all times when the keen observer 

 revels in a wealth of unusual plumages and rare records. Those of us whose 

 opportunity it is to teach others and to lead children or beginners through the 

 woods and fields in search of birds find ourselves confronted with innumerable 

 difficulties. The lack of song, the dull colors, the secretive ways of the birds, 

 the luxuriance of the weeds and the denseness of the foliage of the trees that 

 discourage the single observer, are almost unsurmountable barriers to a class 

 or group. We are led to rejoice when the frosts and winds make the woods 

 more penetrable, though they likewise thin out the ranks of the birds. Lucky 

 are the ones who live near ponds or bodies of water that attract the shore 

 and wading birds for they alone present the unobstructed vision that one is 

 accustomed to in the early spring and longs for all fall. The Sandpipers and 



(3°i) 



