Hints to Audubon Workers. 



257 



on April 26, 27 and 29, 1884, Mr. John H. 

 Sage saw several migrating hermit thrushes 

 in the streets and about the dooryards in 

 Portland, Conn., and Mr. Brewster has 

 found the wood thrush at home and abund- 

 ant in the mountains of western North 

 Carolina.* Indeed, the haunts of the dif- 

 ferent thrushes vary greatly, and not only 

 in different parts of the country, but with 

 individual preference in the same section 

 This is markedly the case with the 



Wilson's thrush; veery; tawny thrush. 



I know one that sings in a locust tree 

 ■close to a house by the side of the road, 

 apparently indifferent to the baying of 

 hounds, and the noisy play of children. 

 And I have found others that were shy, 

 ■even in the seclusion of an alder swamp. 



I know five haunts of the veery in one 

 -woods. Two are in dry second growth, one 

 of them being on the western exposure of 

 the woods, where the coldest winds sweep 

 over the hill, and little is heard except the 

 woodpecker's reveille, and the pensive note 

 of the wood pewee. Here their chief oc- 

 cupation is turning the dry leaves aside 

 -with their bills, and scratching among them, 

 hen fashion, for worms. 



The three other places are moist fern- 

 eries, two of them being in the most pro- 

 tected part of the woods. One is in a grove 

 of maple saplings, where the sun streams in 

 to light up great masses of the arching 

 hairy mountain fern, and warm the moss- 

 covered drumming log of the partridge. 

 Another, is an old swamp on whose bor- 

 der a giant hemlock stands. Here the red 

 morning sunlight creeps up soon after the 

 birds are awake, and touches caressingly 

 the smooth trunks of the beeches. It al- 

 ways seems as if the veery were more so- 

 ciable here than on the dark western side 

 of the woods. If you find one running 

 along on the dark moss, you are sure to see 

 another standing among the ferns ; if you 

 stop to see how the sunlight shimmers 



* The ^«>&, Vol. III., No. 2, p. 178, April, 1886. 



through the young hemlocks, a friendly 

 kree-ah from a bush near by will prepare 

 you for the low song that trills in descend- 

 ing scale through the cool morning air, and 

 breaks the hush of sunrise, as one after an- 

 other of the peaceful songsters takes it up 

 and carries it along. 



In this swamp, on the soft decayed wood 

 in the top of an old stump, five or six feet 

 from the ground, one of the veery 's nests 

 was found, and I think that careful search 

 might have revealed others. But although 

 such places seem best suited to the sweet 

 choristers, I have found a nest in a locality 

 as dissimilar as could be imagined. It was 

 on the edge of a raspberry patch, where the 

 sun beat down nearly all day long. The 

 nest was deserted when I found it. Such 

 a pretty structure as it was ! Within a foot 

 or so of the ground, wedged in between the 

 sides of a young beech, it was made almost 

 entirely of old leaves, and completely dis- 

 guised by the crisp brown ones still cling- 

 ing to the twigs. The lining was of dead 

 leaves, roots and stems. The four eggs 

 were a beautiful unspotted robin's &gg blue. 

 What a pity it seemed that such an attrac- 

 tive little home should be broken up! Who 

 will ever know its tragedy! Perhaps the 

 lonely father bird still haunts the woods 

 mourning for his little mate! 



In his own quiet way, the veery is a pe- 

 culiarly sociable bird. So, although his song 

 is the least remarkable of the three thrushes, 

 his conversational notes and calls are both 

 varied and numerous. His regular song is 

 a series of trills descending the scale, and 

 may be rendered as a trilled trea, trea, trea. 

 Another form of this is tree, tree, trum, 

 rea, rea. 



Last spring I was greatly puzzled by hear- 

 ing in the woods what seemed like the bleat- 

 ing of a lamb ; and although I soon suspected 

 its source, it was some time before I saw the 

 veery making this peculiar sound. It re- 

 sembles a bleat so nearly that it can be 

 fairly represented by the syllables ba-ah-ah. 



