BIRDS OF BERMUDA. 201 
vain to bring up the young from the nest. The Red Bird breeds twice 
a year in Bermuda. Fresh eggs have been found as early as the Ist 
April, and I find in my notes that I saw young birds just able to fly on 
the 19th; but these are exceptional cases. As a rule, the two clutches 
of eggs are deposited about April 10 and May 30, respectively. The 
eges are three to five in number, averaging 1.00 inch x .73 inch. They 
vary much in size and markings, but are usually greenish white, irregu- 
larly marked with few purplish and many amber blotches. The nest 
is bulky, built of twigs and roots, lined with dry grasses. This lining 
alone serves to distinguish some of the nests from those of the Cat 
Bird, which they much resemble; they are usually at a greater eleva- 
tion, however, and are never ornamented with rags or paper. The 
parent birds are extremely solicitous in bringing up their offspring, and 
attend them assiduously long after they are able to fly, betraying their 
anxiety by much “tick-tick-’ing, flirting of tails, and raising of crests. 
To see a fine old paterfamilias in all the glory of his rich vermilion 
garments, tail and crest in air, now on a post, now on an oleander or 
cedar bough, all the while uttering his sharp “tick” of alarm, while 
the more sober-colored mother is ministering to the appetites of the 
children, is a great treat, and will ever be associated in my memory 
with the hot sun, the white houses, dark cedars, and fragrant sage- 
bushes of Bermuda. The young resemble the female, being ashy- 
brown, paler below, with evident traces of the red on the crest, wings, 
tail, and under parts. I have mentioned the “tick,” or call-note of this 
species. The song is exceedingly variable, consisting of a series of 
musical whistles. There is also a strange ‘ whir-r-r-r,” like a large 
bird suddenly rising on the wing, which is very peculiar. A most 
remarkable fact is that the notes are changed according to season. 
Mr. J. M. Jones called my attention to this too late, unfortunately, for 
me to make any lengthened study of the changes; but [heard sufficient 
to satisfy myself of their occurrence. Thus, in December and January 
nearly every songster I listened to was ‘‘ way-too-”ing at the top of his 
voice, and I occasionally heard the peculiar ‘whir-r-r-r.” Later on 
““way-too” became less frequent, being replaced by the monotonous 
“tew, tew,” and other notes. A more careful and lengthened series of 
observations would be of considerable interest. In spring the Red 
Bird commences to sing at daybreak, considerably before the Blue 
Bird. A wounded Red Bird can give the unwary collector a most 
painful nip with his strong beak. In spite, however, of his strength, 
