342 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIEDS 



Nov. 30, 1858. The shrike was very violent for a long 

 time, beating itself against the bars of its cage at 

 Stacy's. To-day it is quiet and has eaten raw meat. Its 

 plain dark ash-colored crown and back are separated 

 by a very distinct line from the black wings. It has a 

 powerful hawk-like beak, but slender legs and claws. 

 Close to, it looks more like a muscicapa^ than anything. 



March 7, 1859. 6.30 A. M. — To HiU. 



I come out to hear a spring bird, the ground gener- 

 ally covered with snow yet and the channel of the river 

 only partly open. On the Hill I hear first the tapping 

 of a small woodpecker. I then see a bird alight on the 

 dead top of the highest white oak on the hilltop, on the 

 topmost point. It is a shrike. While I am watching him 

 eight or ten rods off, I hear robins down below, west of 

 the hill. Then, to my surprise, the shrike begins to sing. 

 It is at first a wholly ineffectual and inarticulate sound 

 without any solid tone to it, a mere hoarse breathing, 

 as if he were clearing his throat, unlike any bird that 

 I know, — a shrill hissing. Then he uttered a kind of 

 mew, a very decided mewing, clear and wiry, between 

 that of a catbird and the note of the nuthatch, as if to 

 lure a nuthatch within his reach; then rose into the 

 sharpest, shrillest vibratory or tremulous whistling or 

 chirruping on the very highest key. This high gurgling 

 jingle was like some of the notes of a robin singing in 

 summer. But they were very short spurts in all these 

 directions, though there was all this variety. Unless you 

 saw the shrike it would be hard to tell what bird it was. 

 This variety of notes covered considerable time, but 



^ [That is, a flycatcher.] 





