44 



RED-WINGED STARLING. 



during the day. Instead of the tUmp or boo??i$, however, of the 

 true Bittern, their call is something like the uncouth syllables of 

 ^pumf-au-gclh, but uttered in the same low, bellowing tone. 



The cry of the European Bittern, so similar to that of our own 

 species, is thus elegantly described by Goldsmith in his Animated 

 Nature: "Those who have walked in a summer evening by the 

 sedgy sides of unfrequented rivers, must remember a variety of 

 notes from different water-fowl : the loud scream of the Wild 

 Goose, the croaking of the Mallard, the whining of the Lapwing, 

 i.nd the tremulous neighing of the Jack-snipe. But, of all these 

 sounds, there is none so dismally hollow as the booming of the 

 Bittern. It is impossible for words to give those who have not 

 heard this evening-call an adequate idea of its solemnity. It is 

 like the interrupted bellowing of a bull, but hollower and louder, 

 md is heard at a mile's distance, as if issuing from some formida- 

 ble being that resided at the bottom of the waters. This is the 

 Bittern, whose wind-pipe is fitted to produce the sound for which 

 it is remarkable ; the lower part of it, dividing into the lungs, being 

 supplied with a thin, loose membrane, that can be filled with a 

 large body of air, and exploded at pleasure. These bellowings 

 are chiefly heard from the beginning of spring to the end of au- 

 tumn, and are the usual calls during the pairing season." — Nuttall. 

 The Bittern manifests considerable skill in taking position. If 

 it is standing quiet, and is undisturbed, it raises its body a little in 

 front, and draws in its long neck to such an extent so that its head 

 will touch its back. When irritated, it will raise the feathers of 

 its body, especially those of the head and neck, and open a little 

 its bill, giving it quite a formidable appearance. Its walk is slow, 

 considerate, and sluggish ; the foot is placed before the other only 

 after careful study. The flight is easy and noiseless, but slow and 

 apparently awkward; the large, broad wings are moved with a 

 languid stir and slowly succeeding flaps, with a little increase in 

 flapping on rising. To gain height, the Bittern marks out circles, 

 neither hovering nor sailing, but constantly flapping the wings ; this 

 it continues, also, when coming down, until it is close to the reeds 

 or rushes, when it suddenly contracts the wings, and apparently 

 falls perpendicularly down between the stems of the rushes. It 

 only flies at great height by night ; in daylight, its flight is close 

 above the rushes or reeds. During its flight at night, it utters a 

 kind of raven-like crowing. These peculiar bellowings are only 

 heard during mating-time. 



Although, in a particular place, apparently favorable, some 

 dozens of these birds may be found to-day, yet, perhaps, on visit- 

 ing it to-morrow, you will not find one remaining ; and districts 

 resorted to one season or year, will be found deserted by them the 

 next. That they migrate by night, I have always felt assured ; 

 but that they are altogether nocturnal, is rather uncertain, for, in 

 more than half a dozen instances, I have surprised them in the 

 act of procuring food in the middle of the day, when the sun was 

 shining brightly. That they are extremely timid, I well know, 

 for on several occasions, when I have suddenly come upon them, 

 they have stood still, from mere terror, until I have knocked them 

 down with an oar or stick ; yet, when wounded, and their courage 

 is raised, they show great willingness to defend themselves ; and 

 if in the presence of a dog, they never fail to spread out, to their 

 full extent, the feathers of the neck, leaving its hind part bare, 

 ruffle those of their body, extend their wings, and strike violently 

 at their enemy. When seized, they scratch furiously, and en- 

 deavor to bite, so that, unless great care be takpn, they may in- 

 flict severe wounds. — Audubon. 



Wilson describes it as another nocturnal species, common to all 

 our sea and river marshes, though nowhere numerous. It rests 

 all day among the reeds and rushes, and, unless disturbed, flies 

 and feeds only during the night. In some places, it is called the 

 Indian Hen ; on the sea-coast of New Jersey, it is known by the 

 name of dunkatoo, a word probably imitative of its common note. 

 They are also found in the interior, having myself killed one at 

 the inlet of the Seneca lake, in October. 



The American Bittern is twenty-seven inches long, and three 

 feet four inches in extent ; from the point of the bill to the extrem- 

 ity of the toes, it measures three feet. The bill is four inches 

 long ; the upper mandible black ; the lower, greenish-yellow ; 

 lores and eyelids, yellow ; iris, bright-yellow ; upper part of the 

 head, flat, and remarkably depressed ; the plumage there is of a 

 deep blackish-brown, long behind and on the neck, the general 

 color of which is a yellowish-brown, shaded with darker; this 

 long plumage of the neck the bird can throw forward at will, when 

 irritated, so as to give him a more formidable appearance ; throat, 

 whitish, streaked with deep brown; from the posterior and lower 

 part of the auriculars, a broad patch of deep black passes diago- 

 nally across the neck, a distinguished characteristic of this species ; 

 the back is deep brown, barred and mottled with innumerable 

 specks and streaks of brownish-yellow ; quills, black, with a 

 leaden gloss, and tipped with yellowish-brown ; legs and feet, yel- 

 low, tinged with pale green ; middle claw r , pectinated ; belly, light 

 yellowish-brown, streaked with darker ; vent, plain ; thighs, 

 sprinkled on the outside with grains of dark-brown ; male and fe- 

 male nearly alike, the latter somewhat less. According to Be- 

 wick, the tail of the European Bittern contains only ten feathers ; 

 the American species has invariably twelve. The intestines meas- 

 ured five feet six inches in length, and were very little thicker than 

 a common knitting needle ; the stomach is usually filled with fish 

 or frogs. 



The American bird, no less than the true Bittern, is considered 

 by many an excellent food. 



The Red-winged Starling (Agelatus phceniceus). 



Fig. 2, Male. Fig. 3, Female. 



The Red-winged Starlings, though generally migratory in the 

 States north of Maryland, are found during the winter in immense 

 flocks, sometimes associated with the Purple Grakles, and often by 

 themselves, along the whole lower parts of Virginia, both Caro- 

 linas, Georgia, and Louisiana, particularly near the sea-coast, and 

 in the vicinity of large rice and corn-fields. In the months of Jan- 

 uary and February, while passing through the former of these 

 countries, I was frequently entertained with the aerial evolutions 

 of these great bodies of Starlings. Sometimes they appeared driv- 

 ing about like an enormous black cloud carried before the wind, 

 varying its shape every moment ; sometimes suddenly rising from 

 the fields around me, with a noise like thunder ; while the glitter- 

 ing of innumerable wings of the brightest vermilion, amid the 

 black cloud they formed, produced on these occasions a very 

 striking and splendid effect. Then, descending like a torrent, and 

 covering the branches of some detached grove or clump of trees, 

 the whole congregated multitude commenced one general concert 

 or chorus, that I have plainly distinguished at the distance of more 

 than two miles, and, when listened to at the intermediate space of 

 about a quarter of a mile, with a slight breeze of wind to swell 

 and soften the flow of its cadences, was to me grand, and even 

 sublime. The whole season of winter, that, with most birds, is 

 passed in struggling to sustain life, in silent melancholy, is, with 

 the Red-wings, one continued carnival. The profuse gleanings 

 of the old rice, corn, and buckwheat-fields supply them with 

 abundant food, at once ready and nutritious ; and the intermediate 

 time is spent either in aerial maneuvers, or in grand vocal per- 

 formances, as if solicitous to supply the absence of all the tuneful 

 summer tribes, and to cheer the dejected face of nature with their 

 whole combined powers of harmony. 



About the 20th of March, or earlier, if the season be open, they 

 begin to enter Pennsylvania in numerous, though small, parties. 

 These migrating flocks are usually observed from daybreak to 

 eight or nine in the morning, passing to the north, chattering to 

 each other as they fly along ; and, in spite of all our antipathy, 

 their well-known notes and appearance, after the long and dreary 



