144 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



Bions every winter down into our territory from 

 British America. Audubon, I believe, saw them in 

 Maine ; other observers have seen them in Minnesota. 

 It has the crest of the cedar-bird, the same yellow 

 border to its tail, but is marked with white on its 

 wings, as if a snowflake or two had adhered to it 

 from the northern cedars and pines. If you see 

 about the evergreens in the coldest, snowiest weather 

 what appear to be a number of very large cherry- 

 birds, observe them well, for the chances are that 

 visitants from the circumpolar regions are before 

 your door. It is a sign, also, that the frost legions 

 of the north are out in great force and carrying all 

 before them. 



Our cedar or cherry bird is the most silent bird 

 we have. Our neutral-tinted birds, like him, as a 

 rule, are our finest songsters; but he has no song or 

 call, uttering only a fine bead-like note on taking 

 flight. This note is the cedar-berry rendered back 

 in sound. When the ox-heart cherries, which he 

 has only recently become acquainted with, have had 

 time to enlarge his pipe and warm his heart, I shall 

 expect more music from him. But in lieu of music, 

 what a pretty compensation are those minute, almost 

 artificial-like, plumes of orange and vermilion that 

 tip the ends of his wing quills ! Nature could not 

 give him these and a song too. She has given the 

 hummingbird a jewel upon his throat, but no song, 

 save the hum of his wings. 



Another bird that is occasionally borne to us on 

 the crest of the cold waves from the frozen zone, and 



