2 i8 THE HERMIT THRUSH. 



General Range. Eastern North America, breeding from the northern Alle- 

 ghanies, the mountainous parts of southern New England, southern Xew York, 

 northern Michigan, etc., northward, and wintering from the Northern States 

 southward. 



Range in Ohio. Abundant migrant. One breeding record, Cincinnati, by 

 Chas. Dury. 



AS one passes through the woods in middle April, while the trees 

 are still leafless and the forest floor brown with last fall's harvest, a moving 

 shape, a little browner still but scarcely outlined in the uncertain light, starts 

 up from the ground with a low chuck, and pauses for a moment on a tiny 

 stump. Before you have fairly made out definite characters the bird flits 

 to a branch a little higher up and more removed, to stand motionless for a 

 minute or so, or else to chuckle softly with each twinkle of the ready wings. 

 By following quietly one may put the bird to a dozen short flights without 

 once driving it out of range ; and he may find that the tail is abruptly rufous in 

 contrast with the olive-brown of the back, and that the breast is boldly 

 spotted, but not so heavily as in the case of the Wood Thrush. 



The Hermit Thrush is very common, almost abundant, along wooded 

 streams and low-lying copses, from the middle of April to the fifth of May. 

 The remarkable weather in the spring of 1903 brought one bird to Columbus 

 on the nineteenth of March, and held the species at Oberlin until the eighth 

 of May. Altho rather retiring and quite clever at escaping observation when 

 desiring to, the birds are frequently seen in the back yard shrubbery, and 

 share with Towhee and Cardinal the spoils hidden beneath the carpet of 

 fallen raspberry leaves. In the fall they are not less abundant and linger as 

 late as November 25th. 



Now and then a fortunate observer, lurking about in some secluded 

 glen, catches a song some foregleam of the glory which is one day to light up 

 the hills of Laurentia. I have never heard it myself except in the mountains 

 of Washington. For me the vicinity of a certain emerald stream, which 

 passes, half pool, half spray, through the solemn woods which clothe 

 Wright's Peak, is forever sacred, because there, with a dear companion, I 

 first heard the vesper hymn of the Hermit Thrush. We did not see the 

 singer that were sacrilege but from some dim height there floated down 

 to us a voice no longer tainted by the earth struggle, but heavenly pure, 

 serene, exalted. It was the voice of an angel, such as haunt the groves of 

 Paradise. To recall but for an instant those ravishing notes is to call up the 

 first promise of love, the mother's prayers, and all the precious contents of that 

 inner casket of the heart, which may not be opened until we present ourselves 

 at Heaven's gate, and feel therein for the golden key. 



