THE BIRDS IN THEIR WINTER HOME, 



(In the Woods.) 



From the region of the Great Lakes 

 to the Gulf there is no section that con- 

 tains more to interest the naturalist than 

 the hills and forests of central Missis- 

 sippi. Here no winter's rigors chill the 

 blood and drive the forest folk to remote 

 or inaccessible retreats. Into this land 

 of warmth and sunshine, this land of the 

 'possum, persimmon and the pickaninny, 

 Jack Frost does not come till November 

 is well advanced. Even then he comes 

 only to clear the air, bring down the 

 leaves, and announce the coming of the 

 short, make-believe winter. 



Go out doors in December after the 

 leaves have fallen and take note of the 

 varied life in wood, field and brake ; think 

 that now in the far away North the wind 

 howls through the leafless trees, finding 

 few creatures hardy enough to resist his 

 blasts save the snowbird and the hare. 

 The blasts of chill November and chillier 

 December have sent myriads of birds 

 down here where food is plenty in savan- 

 nah, forest and thicket. On the wooded 

 knolls under the beeches and hollies con- 

 gregate the hungry hordes, feasting on 

 seeds and berries of the rattan, holly and 

 srnilax. Flying in and out of the briar- 

 thickets are innumerable white-throated 

 sparrows fleeing from frozen Canada and 

 the lake country, A clear long-drawn 

 whistle strikes the ear. We seek the 

 source. A little brown bird much the size 

 and shape of an English sparrow seated 

 on a shrub projecting from the briars 

 raises his head and whistles a sound as 

 pure and free from flaw as the little spot 

 of white upon his throat. Cheewinks as 

 fussy as old hens toss the dead leaves 

 about ; grackles in shining black stalk 

 dignifiedly about ; while cardinals in low 

 boughs and underbrush give a touch of 

 vivid color to the scene just as the pink 

 and white dresses of the sfirls form a 



pleasing contrast to the somber blacks 

 and grays of the gentlemen's attire at a 

 Fourth of July celebration. 



Second to none in delicate beauty of 

 coloring, king of his tribe, is the fox- 

 sparrow. Russet and rufous on the back, 

 beneath the white marked with brilliant 

 stripings of the same color as the back, 

 on the feathers of his head and upper 

 neck a clear pearly luster which is irrides- 

 cent in the sunshine but invisible in the 

 shadow, he is a marked bird, the peer of 

 any in the woods. Happy the bird-lover 

 who has the opportunity to study this 

 magnificent bird in his winter home; one 

 so favored can well afford a feeling of 

 pity for the less fortunate dwellers in the 

 central states who seldom make his ac- 

 quaintance except through the medium 

 of the museum or the manual. 



Florida blue jays in black, white and 

 blue hop about among the rustling leaves 

 or seated on a limb, hammer away at an 

 acorn. Possessing a more extensive vo- 

 cabulary than our familiar Northern jays 

 more loquacious, more sociable, they are 

 certainly the artists of the tribe. No one 

 who has ever heard their clear musical 

 notes as they play in the tree-tops or hop 

 about on the lawns as friendly and cheer- 

 ful as robins, can ever entertain quite 

 such a low opinion of their musical ability 

 as he did before. Resonant, ringing tink- 

 ling, this call is the forest chime that 

 summons the little children of the wood 

 to vespers, heard at evening with white 

 throats calling to one another from brush- 

 heaps and briar thicket, it is the expres- 

 sion of this strong pure life away from 

 the haunts of men. Under such sur- 

 roundings it is easy to forget the cruelty 

 practiced by our gifted blue-coat when 

 spring has filled these woods and fields 

 with nests and nestlings. 



But here comes one for whom no cloak 



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