THRUSHES 631 



In migration the Hermit Thrushes may be found in the 

 woods, wayside thickets, and even in the city gardens, scratch- 

 ing on the ground among the leaves or flying from bush to 

 bush and tree to tree. At such times they utter a "chuck" 

 and for many years of my early boyhood days the only name 

 we had for this bird was "Woodchuck," a name significant of 

 its habitat and its call. It was therefore with some little pleas- 

 ure that in southern California I found the boys applying the 

 same name to the western subspecies of the Hermit Thrush 

 (probably the Dwarf Hermit Thrush) which occurred there 

 commonly in winter. The "chuck" is indeed the characteristic 

 call of the Hermit Thrush and its subspecies, the "puJc" of the 

 Olive-backed being the nearest approach to this call by the 

 other Thrushes. When uttering this "chuck'" they usually flirt 

 or lift their tails slightly and partially droop their wings, their 

 general bearing being otherwise proudly erect. This erect 

 attitude, however, the flirting of the tail, and the drooping of 

 the wings may be said to be a general family characteristic of 

 our Thrushes and of the Robin, though in my opinion the 

 habit is most fully developed in the Hermit Thrush. 



Rarely the Hermit is a flycatcher, taking its prey on the 

 wing, but more preferably feeding on the ground among the 

 leaves and moss, where it finds beetles, ants, grubs and worms 

 of various sorts. Occasionally they eat a few dogwood and 

 arrowwood berries and bunchberries, but their diet save in fall 

 may be said to consist almost entirely of insects. 



While in May the flute-like song of the male may be heard 

 rising on the wings of the wind, it is in June when the song 

 period is at its height, and there is little abatement of singing 

 through July, and even in August the song may be frequently 

 heard. I have heard the song arising from the midst of the 

 mossy bogs of northern Maine, from the more open stretches 

 of wood and bog about Bangor, from the swampy woods to the 

 rear of the University of Maine, and always with pleasure at 

 being allowed to live and to listen to the carol, but never has 



