OVEN-BIRD 



223 



formance, uttered rather rapidly and wildly, with a medley of very 

 different, hurried, warbling notes. The full utterance usually begins 

 as the bird poises, fluttering, at its greatest height; and ends, 

 obscurely, as if smothered by the rushing air, as the bird shoots 

 downward with half-shut wings into the forest But the perform- 

 ance is often heralded by a few sharp, reduplicated call-notes, and 

 sometimes by a few preluding scraps of song as the eager singer darts 

 upward from perch to perch and launches himself into open air. The 

 full flight-song itself varies comparatively little, in my experience. The 

 regular perch-song, too, Teacher, teacher, etc., is far more constant 

 than are those of most Wood Warblers. Its tone-quality is, I believe, 

 practically changeless, but its volume, speed and accentuation vary 

 somewhat. Often, for instance, it is accented on the second syllable of 

 each teacher, instead of on the first ; and the whole song is sometimes 

 uttered very softly almost in a whisper as is the case with most 

 bird-songs. 



"Strangest of all the aberrant utterances of the Oven-bird I 

 have ever heard was a two-minute-long, practically unbroken gush of 

 barely subdued flight-song, delivered by a bird quietly perching about 

 twenty feet above the ground. This astonishing performance I wit- 

 nessed on May 5, 1905, in a scrubby roadside forest near Monadnock's 

 northern base. Having finished one round of his seeming endless carol, 

 the 'possessed' Warbler changed his perch and began again, but after 

 singing as before for about a minute, took wing and dashed off hori- 

 zontally through the forest, singing as he went, till he passed out of 

 my hearing. In the course of these three minutes of singing he had 

 repeated the complete flight-song, omitting none of the regular elabora- 

 tions, more than thirty times ; and for the most part there had been no 

 apparent break, no moment's pause, between the repetitions. Such 

 prolonged swift singing would be a remarkable achievement for any 

 bird, and puts the Oven-bird, potentially at least, very high in the list 

 of avine songsters. That same May, in the same region, I heard three 

 other perfectly distinct, surprising innovations of Oven-bird-song. 

 One was like the syllables Cher-wutchy wher, cher wutchy wher, ter- 

 cher; sung in a tone softer than that of the common teacher song, 

 and slightly double-noted. Another was like Chock, ter-cher, chi-wi, 

 the first note being merely the common deeper-toned call-note, like 

 the booming cluck of the Chipmunk, and the others having a nearly 

 normal teacher tone, though decidedly different in form and accentua- 

 tion, and delicately varied one from another. This phrase I heard 

 repeated many times, without noticeable change, and always with the 



