386 LABRADOR 



the familiar dooryard bird of the bleak Labrador coast. 

 He sings from the roof of the turf -covered tilt, or from the 

 cross-stays of the fishing schooner in the narrow tickle. 

 He contentedly picks up crumbs and insects about the 

 houses and makes his nest in the thickets of spruces or 

 firs that are unable to struggle more than two or three 

 feet above the earth. His call note is characteristic and 

 easily recognized, a metallic chink. He also has a sharp, 

 chipping alarm note. His song is pleasing, although it has 

 not the familiar charm of his cousin, the Peabody bird, or 

 the power and brilliancy of that of the fox sparrow. It 

 sounds something like more wet-wetter-wet-chezee. There is 

 a long and somewhat mournful stress laid on the first note, 

 and a buzz not easily expressed in words comes near the end. 



Another Hudsonian bird that frequents the stunted 

 trees and bushes on the borders of the Arctic Zone is the 

 tree sparrow. The chestnut crown and large black spot 

 on the otherwise spotless breast make it easily recognized. 

 His song is simple and easily memorized, seet-seet, sit- 

 iter sweet-sweet. 



Two other sparrows are common and characteristic of 

 this zone. The Lincoln's sparrow, discovered by Audubon 

 in Labrador and named by him after his young friend Tom 

 Lincoln, resembles closely the song sparrow of more south- 

 ern regions. Its disposition, however, is very different, for 

 it is a most retiring bird, skulking out of sight in the bushes 

 if it but suspects that it is an object of interest. Instead 

 of mounting to a conspicuous post to sing like its cousin, 

 the song sparrow, it is apt to select the interior of a fir bush 

 for this performance, and the listener often looks in vain 

 for the songster. The song is varied, but partakes at times 



