48 B Y- WA YS AND BIRD-NO TES. 



have such queer &quot; notions &quot; about signs and 

 omens. For instance, the well-known guttural 

 croaking of the yellow-billed cuckoo is, in the 

 West and South generally believed to presage 

 rain ; hence the bird is known amongst the 

 rural people by the name of rain-crow. 



I remember with what solemn earnestness 

 an old man once heaped maledictions on a 

 cuckoo. It was in the midst of a distressing 

 drought, and the bird was mournfully uttering 

 its notes in an orchard. &quot;There s thet air 

 dad-blasted rain crow a-bellerin down ther 

 ag in&quot; he cried, savagely wagging his head. 

 &quot; Ef I hed a gun I d blow it inter thunder V 

 gone. Ever thin a-burnin up an the crick a- 

 goin dry an thet air lyin rain-crow jest 

 a-yowkin an yowkin , es ef a flood wer a- 

 comin in less an fifteen minutes blast its 

 pictur ! &quot; 



Speaking of the yellow-billed cuckoo, it is 

 one of the most interesting of our American 

 birds, a late comer to our Northern woods, 

 where about the middle of May it begins a 

 shy, shadowy pilgrimage from tree to tree, 

 peering furtively among the tufts of young 

 leaves, as if bent on some errand of mystery. 

 It is a slender, graceful figure, with a dispro 

 portionately long tail and a slim, slightly curved 

 bill, which is almost black above and yellow 

 below ; its back is drab ; its under parts a pure 

 silvery-white, and its tail dark, tipped with 

 snow-white. You may know it by its peculiar 

 zigzag flight, and by its cry, &quot; Kaow, Kaow&quot; 

 etc., repeated slowly at first, then increasing in 

 rapidity to a rattling or pounding croak, and 

 finally ending laggingly as it began. It has all 



