1871. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



89 



THE MIQKATION OF BIRDS. 



ISTENING to the loud 

 ''honh," honk,'' of a 

 large number of wild 

 geese on the tliird of 

 December, led the 

 mind to a contempla- 

 tion of the ■wonderful 

 ■works of an Ahnigh- 

 ty hand every ■where 

 about us. They ■were 

 high on the wing, safe 

 from shot or bullet, 

 were flying directly 

 west, and their slow 

 and heavy motion and 

 loud cries indicated 

 or"'" 't^- 'Mgj a long flight and 



fatigue. The weather was cloudy and the 

 air damp and heavy, so that, being long on the 

 wing in it, they may have become encumbered 

 with too much moisture ; or, they may have 

 passed through regions of damp, falling snow, 

 and become so loaded with it as greatly to 

 obstruct their passage. We were on high 

 land, and pruning in the top of a tree, which 

 afforded an extensive view of them as they 

 went by. Just at night, and especially in 

 heavy weather, their notes are quite different 

 from those which they utter in clear weather, 

 or earlier in the day. When apparently fa- 

 tigued their ''Jiorik,'''' or ^'hawk,'" seems more 

 guttural and prolonged, than the sharp, quick 

 cry uttered in dear weather. 



The contrast between these denizens of the 

 upper air, and the chattering little chickadee, 

 hopping from branch to branch on the tree 

 where we were, and taking insects so minute 

 as scarcely to be discernible, could not fail to 

 excite emotions of wonder and delight. This 

 tiny thing, whose whole weight would scarcely 

 exceed a couple of ounces, defying heat and 

 cold, passes the winter in all parts of New 

 England, uttering his cheerful chick-a-dee 

 notes among shrubbery and in the branches of 

 trees, where coldest winds are blowing or the 

 air is thick with falling snow. lie is proof 

 against the vicissitudes of our winter climate, 

 we know, but still our reflections give rise to 

 the beautifid feelings expressed by Burns : — 



"Ilk li.'ippini; hinl, xvcc, IicIiiIcbh lliiiiv, 

 Wliicli, ill ilic iiicrry inontliH ori<i>iiiii;, 

 Dc-lightoil nil- ti> liiiir tlui- mIii^, 



%\'ll:it I OIlllH o" »ll( T? 



Where will lliuii low'r iliv i liiltenng wing 

 AiiU clobc lliy c e f'' 



Why do birds emigrate? Swallows and 

 martins leave us, it ■would seem, when their 

 food is more abundant than ever ; when the 

 air is swarming with insects, and when their 

 young are frequently not sufficiently grown to 

 take long flights to distant lands ; and yet 

 they evince great impatience at the delay, 

 gathering themselves into chattering conven- 

 tions, sweeping the air in wide circles, dart- 

 ing away in a southerly direction for a brief 

 time, and then returning and alighting in un- 

 usual places. Then they urge their young to 

 take wing, pushing them from their boxes or 

 the eaves of the barn, until they gain confi- 

 dence, when with great apparent confusion, 

 they suddenly dart away and are seen no 

 more! 



Many have attempted to account for such 

 early migration among birds, but have reached 

 no really satisfactory results. It cannot be 

 want of nourishment, because there is still 

 abundance in the places they are leading. 

 "Atmospherical currents are not the cause, 

 nor do the changes of season explain it, as 

 the greatest number set off' while the weather 

 is yet fine ; and others, as the larks, arrive 

 while the season is bad." The latter we have 

 seen in February, while the earth was deeply 

 covered with snow. Atmospherical influences 

 can only hasten the migration in antumn, but 

 must retard or derange it in spring. "It is 

 the presentiment, says M. Brelim, of what is to 

 happen, which detemiines birds to begin their 

 journey. It is an instinct which tirgcs them, 

 and which initiates them into the meteoric 

 changes that are preparing. They have a 

 particular faculty of foreseeing the rigors of 

 the coming season ; an exqusite sensibility to 

 the perception of atmospheric changes which 

 are not arrived, but are aijpro.iching." ITio 

 immortal Newton ascribes this sensibility to 

 "nothing else than the wisdom and skill of a 

 powerful and ever-living agent." 



Tlie mode of migration differs in different 

 species, some assembling in large (locks,- and 

 taking their flight together, such as swallows, 

 geese and ducks, while others seem to prefer 

 taking their solitary way. The charming little 

 BobiiUnk, which visits nearly every rural 

 homestead in New T^ngland, towanls the last 

 of May, connncnces its llight ^<)uth about the 

 mil Idle of August. On the shores of the 

 Delaware, Potomac and other large rivers. 



