"her with insects and berries, which form 

 the food of the Tanagers. When not 

 engaged in obtaining food for her, or 

 later for their young, he mounts a fav- 

 orite perch, not far from his nest, and 

 there sings a sweet song to his patient 

 mate upon the nest. They are a loving 

 pair and together care for their youns:. 

 The young males are colored like their 

 mother and do not obtain the perfect 



and brilliant nlumage of the adult until 

 at least the third year. 



The words of Florence Merriam 

 again seem appropriate: "Inside the 

 green woods the Tanager spends the 

 summer, flying down to visit his nest in 

 the fresh young undergrowth or to 

 bathe in the still forest pools, and hunt- 

 ing and singing in the tree tops high 

 overhead." 



THE STORY OF BOBBS, THE TANAGER. 



Chip chiir! Chip churl The trees 

 rang with his joyous gutteral call, and 

 here and there, flashing from oak to 

 oak, shone the Scarlet Tanager like 

 a splendid tropic flower in his vivid 

 color. The rose tanagers were there 

 also, beautiful, but less intense of hue, 

 and their call-note was also gutteral, 

 though perhaps a little livelier, Chic-o-pe 

 or Chicky, chicky tuck! They had 

 arrived from the South a week earlier 

 than their green and yellow or orange 

 tinted mates, who start more leisurely 

 on the long journey, and perhaps travel 

 by shorter stages. 



It is perfectly natural for birds that 

 feed on insects and fruits, and love 

 warmth, to go farther and farther away 

 as winter draws near, and the world 

 grows bare of food. But having found 

 their summer — the Tanager finds his 

 summer-land in South America — to leave 

 it in the early spring, when the rainy 

 season is filling the land with fruits and 

 swarms of insects, and all the resident 

 birds are beginning to weave their nests 

 — to leave it for a long and perilous 

 journey northward, where the land is 

 still comparatively bare, is indeed, 

 strange. No one has ever discovered 

 the reason. It is one of the unguessed 

 riddles that nature loves to give us now 

 and then. It does not help us to say 

 ^Tnstinct," for instantly the question 

 springs up: "Why have they such an 

 instinct, or impulse from habit, grown 



second nature?" If you study a 

 migration you will find it very sensibly 

 executed; not blindly at all, but as if 

 from reason. 



Little Francis viewed the newly 

 arrived Tanager with his splendid coat 

 with glistening eyes, and eagerly impor- 

 tuned his father to give the bird a 

 name. 



The father laughed. "Why, he is in 

 scarlet — a true Britisher ; call him 

 Bobbs, he's a fine fellow !" 



"Bobbs" was easy for a small tongue, 

 and Francis approved its note of famil- 

 iar acquaintance. 



To return to the history of Bobbs. 

 When Bobbs had "moulted" or shed his 

 winter plumage, and had come forth in 

 shining scarlet and velvety black, he 

 was restless. Perhaps in his small brain 

 arose old memories of cool, shadowy, 

 silent forests, where a bird might safely 

 build his nest on a spreading oak bough. 

 At any rate, with many a Chip chiir! 

 Chip chur! the comrades in scarlet 

 began to gather in large flocks and on 

 a spring day started northward, the 

 vigorous males in advance, to give 

 warning of any unknown peril blocking 

 the way, and the females following a 

 little later. 



The little birds travel chiefly by 

 night, but the larger ones by day, flying 

 when the air is clear so high that they 

 are invisible from the earth, swiftly, 

 steadily, flying over land and water, and 



41 



