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Bird - Lore 



prised to catch a fleeting glimpse of a bright 

 scarlet bird as he skulked through brown 

 brush and low-hanging grape-vine. Soon the 

 handsome fellow appeared in plain sight, 

 closely followed by his sober-hued mate. It 

 was the Cardinal Grosbeak. The pair seemed 

 very timid and flew away to the heavy timber 

 when I cautiously tried to approach nearer. 

 Soon his whistle, clear and sweet, reminiscent 

 of Kansas, came floating to us from the dis- 

 tant wood. 



Residents of this place tell me that this 

 pair of birds has been here for three or four 

 years. Once during the past winter I saw 

 what I thought was a Cardinal in the woods 

 near here, but it flew away before I could 

 tell whether it was a Cardinal or Pine Gros- 

 beak. I have made a study of southern 

 Minnesota birds for twenty years and have 

 never before seen a pair of Cardinals this 

 far north. 



Late in November, 1920, I discovered an- 

 other very rare visitor in the course of my 

 numerous tramps along river and lagoon. 

 This was the Pileated Woodpecker. The 

 only one of these birds I have seen in this 

 region heretofore was at Taylor's Falls. This 

 bird, I regretfully report, was wantonly shot 

 by a so-called himter. 



Winter visitants have been quite rare in 

 this vicinity during the past winter. The 

 Downy Woodpecker, Chickadee, and an 

 occasional Jay were about the only birds 

 to be found. But the spring migration is 

 imusually early and has brought a goodly 

 quota of songsters. — Owen D. Fleener, 

 Kellogg, Minn., April 6, 192 1. 



Two Rare Kentucky Songsters 



The bird-lover south of the Ohio River can 

 scarcely expect to hear the songs of some of 

 the birds of the Canadian wilds, especially 

 such as the Winter Wren and Northern 

 Water-Thrush. However, it was my good 

 fortune to listen to both of these birds during 

 the spring migration of 19 21. 



On the morning of April 27, I was in a 

 narrow strip of woods bordering a small 

 stream, had just recorded my first arrival 

 of the Chat and was listening to the great 

 multitude of songsters, when a strange bird- 



voice joined in the chorus. It seemed to come 

 from a little patch of willows about 30 yards 

 distant. Proceeding toward them, it was 

 somewhat surprising, when about half-way 

 there, to hear this same bubbling, tinkling, 

 song break out afresh a few yards behind me. 



Turning about I caught a glimpse of a 

 small brown bird just a second before it 

 disappeared in a brush-heap in a ditch. 

 In a few minutes it appeared again on the 

 top of the brush, and straightway delivered 

 its exquisite little song, which was at once 

 recognized as the same voice that, when first 

 heard, seemed to be some distance away. 

 At first sight I was nearly certain that I was 

 listening to a Winter Wren, and as it re- 

 turned to sing several times, it gave me 

 every opportunity to verify my first opinion . 

 Its fine silvery song is best described by John 

 Burroughs as "a little cascade of melody," 

 and as I listened I was impressed with the 

 fact that some of our finest songsters are so 

 rarely heard singing in their winter homes as 

 to be themselves unfamiliar when in song. 

 In this bird I had a double record; the first 

 time I had ever recorded it as singing, and the 

 latest date I had observed it in spring. 



Twice in May the Water- Thrush was ob- 

 served, and both times it was singing. It 

 was first heard on May 12, in a small open 

 woods that would hardly be expected to 

 attract a bird that is as retiring as the 

 Water- Thrush. It was about 25 feet up in a 

 tree, where it sang several times, the con- 

 tinual tilting of its tail serving as the first 

 clue as to its identity. After a bit it flew 

 down to a clump of willows about 50 yards 

 distant, where I got a good view of it and 

 confirmed my identification. Its song is 

 different from that of the Louisiana Water- 

 Thrush, being high pitched and liquid, and 

 reminded me of the Winter Wren's song 

 though it was not as fine and silvery. — Ben. 

 J. Blincoe, Bardstown, Ky. 



White Egrets at Smithtown, N. Y. 



On July 16, 1921, I saw a pair of birds 

 which I recognized as American Egrets. I 

 have seen them almost daily since that date 

 and the number has now (Aug. 18) increased 



