Hints to Audubon Workers. 



1 1 



down one after another of the family as they 

 stood resistless before him. To-day the 

 pitiful lament of the brave old birds haunt 

 me, for, forgetting to fear for themselves, 

 those who were left flew about in wild dis- 

 tress, and their cries of almost human suf- 

 fering reached us long after we had left the 

 desecrated spot. 



CROSSBILLS. 



Last November, one of the commonest 

 sounds heard on my walks was an odd me- 

 tallic kimp, kimp, kimp, coming from a flock 

 of crossbills far up in the air. They were 

 often so high that I could not see them, and 

 one day several flocks passed over my head, 

 affording only a glimpse of black dots for 

 them all. Their note often came from the 

 hemlocks back in the woods, and on Thanks- 

 giving morning I had the satisfaction of see- 

 ing the noisy strangers. 



They had come out in the clearing, and 

 lighted near a milk house, some on a tree 

 and others on the ground. I crept up as 

 noiselessly as the crusty snow would allow, 

 and screening myself behind another build- 

 ing watched them for some time. They 

 seemed nervous, for every few minutes they 

 started up simultaneously with a whirr, flew 

 about a few seconds and then settled down 

 again. When they were resting, those that 

 were not chattering, warbled to themselves 

 in a sweet undertone, but when a new com- 

 pany joined their ranks they all began jab- 

 bering, and it was a grave question if any 

 of them could hear what they were asking, 

 or their neighbors trying to tell. Then as 

 they broke up into groups and went wheel- 

 ing about in the air, the glittering gilt deer 

 on top of a barn a few rods away attracted 

 them, and some of them lit on the horns a 

 moment in passing. Several squads flew 

 away, and as the confusion decreased the 

 others grew less restless, and twenty or 

 thirty flew down under the milk house door 

 and began picking up what they could find 

 on the stones. 



Such a mixture of colors ! The old gen- 

 tlemen were the handsomest, being some 

 shade of red, while their wives and child- 

 ren were olivaceous or grayish. They 

 seemed like a shifting kaleidoscope of 

 colors, as they hopped about busily hunting 

 for food. 



Among them were a few pine finches, and 

 I thought that I heard some goldfinches 

 with those that passed over. 



I got the pretty visitors a basket of grain, 

 and scattered it on the crust for them, but 

 they seemed to prefer cone seeds, for they 

 soon flew over to the spruces. 



Mr. Allen says: "The crossbills, by the 

 great strength of their maxillary muscles, 

 and their strong oppositely curved man- 

 dibles, are able to pry open the tightly ap- 

 pressed scales of the fir cones, and to ex- 

 tract at pleasure the oily seeds, which other 

 birds equally fond of, have to wait for the 

 elements to release.* 



The crossed bills that Mr. Allen refers 

 to, and from which the birds are named, are 

 accounted for by the old legend which says 

 the merciful birds tried to pull the nails from 

 the cross, and in doing so twisted their bills 

 in such a way that they will always bear the 

 symbol of their good deed. 



In speaking of the occurrence of the cross- 

 bills in South Carolina, Mr. Wayne says in 

 general: "They go in flocks of from six to 

 forty individuals, and fly in the manner of 

 the American goldfinch [Spiniis tristis), but 

 their flight is generally very high and greatly 

 protracted; their note while on wing is 

 very similar to the cry of young chickens. 

 They always alight in the tops of the pines, 

 and each individual then gets a burr, to see 

 if it contains 'mast'. I have seen as many 

 as three birds on one burr."f 



The crossbills are very erratic in habit, 

 and wander over large areas where they do 

 not remain to build. They nest throughout 



* American N'aturalist, Vol. I., No. i, p. 44-5, 

 March, 1867. 



f The Auk, Vol. IV., No. 4, p. 2S8, October, 18S7. 



