OF NEW ENGLAND. 307 
resume their occupation in a less disturbed quarter. They do 
not attack large fish, but prefer those which are collectively, 
called ‘‘small fry.” Audubon states that he has seen them 
plunge into the sea, but the ocean must ordinarily be too rough 
for them to detect easily the small objects for which they 
search. They frequently use their nest as a resort, probably 
making it regularly a retreat for the night. Gosse speaks of 
these birds as reaching Jamaica ‘‘ about the beginning of Sep- 
tember.” In speaking of a pair, which he afterwards obtained, 
he says: ‘Once both birds seized the same fish, nearly at the 
same moment, and rising with it into the air, each tugged in 
contrary directions, until the grasp of one gave way. At last 
my assistant Sam * * * shot them both. The first was only 
wounded, and falling into the water swam out sea-ward, strik- 
ing out boldly, the wings, however, partially opened. On 
being seized he proved very fierce, erecting the long crest, and 
endeavoring to strike with his pointed beak. He got hold of 
my thumb, and squeezed so powerfully, that the cutting edge 
of the upper mandible sliced a piece of flesh clean out. He 
was tenacious of life, for though I pressed the trachea until 
motion ceased, he repeatedly revived.” 
(d). The only note of the Belted Kingfisher is loud and 
harsh, resembling the sound produced by a watchman’s rattle. 
§24. Cuculidee. Cuckoos. (See § 22, ad jfinem.) 
I. COCCYGUS 
(A) americanus. Yellow-billed Cuckoo. 
(A summer-resident in Massachusetts, but rather rare.) 
(a). About twelve inches long. Lower mandible, almost 
entirely yellow. Above, drab, or “quaker” brown (with 
bronzy reflections). Wings edged with cinnamon. Outer tail- 
feathers, wholly black and white. Beneath, white. 
(b). The nest is hardly worthy of the name, but is generally 
a frail structure composed of a few twigs, and placed in a bush 
or low tree, not far from the ground. I have usually found it 
in dry places, such as dry woods, bushy pastures, and occa- 
sionally orchards, or even the ‘‘scrub.” Near Boston, it is 
