RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 91 



As Thoreau says, his red wing marks him as 

 effectually as a soldier's epaulets. This scarlet 

 shoulder cap is so striking against the bird's black 

 coat that the careless observer does not notice its 

 border of brownish yellow, even when it shades 

 into white, as it does in some of the western 

 species. With Madam Blackbird the contrast is 

 not so great, for she is not as pure black as her 

 husband, having brownish streaks that, even at a 

 distance, give her a duller look ; and then her 

 epaulets are more salmon than scarlet. Still the 

 effect is pleasing, and it is only a matter of taste 

 if we do not admire her as much as her spouse. 



I was unable to go to the meadows during the 

 nesting season, and the next notes I find in my 

 book were taken in the middle of June. Then 

 the young were hidden in the grass, and the old 

 birds followed us from spot to spot, screaming 

 loudly as they circled near us, or hovered low over 

 our heads. Perhaps their cries were to warn 

 their children, for, although there were three of 

 us, and we examined carefully all the places where 

 they showed the most concern, we succeeded in 

 scaring up only one rusty-coated youngster. 



Two weeks later, in the warm days of July, 

 the red-wings seemed to have left the meadows for 

 the trees that skirted the alder swamp, and fam- 

 ilies of old and young were sitting with their 

 cousin grackles in the willows and on thfe rail 

 fence, while some flew up as I walked through an 



