4 
=a) 
e} 
8 
Massachusetts and Fort Riley; a regular visitor to the shores of Lake Michigan and Lake Erie. 
East of this rarely seen along the United-States border.” Mr. Dall (Trans. Chic. A.S. i. p. 280) 
writes that it is “‘quite common near Nulato, but does not arrive till June 10th, or later. I 
obtained a number of skins from the Indians, taken during my absence up the river. It breeds, 
and the eggs have been obtained, at Fort Yukon.” Professor Baird, referring to its breeding in 
America, writes (/.c.) that “the only instances on record are a nest and one egg, obtained by 
Mr. Kennicott on the Yukon in 1861, and a nest and single egg on the Anderson river by 
Mr. M‘Farlane. 
In its habits the Waxwing is confiding and tame, though much less so in the spring and 
summer than in the winter. At the latter season of the year I used to see large flocks in 
Southern Finland, usually frequenting the mountain-ash trees, and very often seen in the gardens 
quite in the centre of the towns. So tame are they, that when fired at, and one or two killed, 
the remainder will only fly off to a short distance and soon return to the same tree again. The 
flocks are often very large; and I have known of more than twenty specimens having been killed 
at one shot; I once killed as many as fourteen at a shot off a large mountain-ash tree, on which 
a flock was perched picking off the berries. It is a peculiarly silent bird; and I have watched a 
fiock for some time without hearing any of them utter a sound. ‘The only note I have heard is 
a low plaintive whistle, from which, I imagine, it is called by the Finns by the name of Tilhi, 
as this gives some idea of the sound of its call-note. When frightened or suddenly disturbed, 
the same note is uttered, but is then shriller and louder in tone. It sits very erect, and carries 
its crest so that it is distinctly seen; when frightened it at once raises its crest, slightly spreading 
it. A flock busy feeding on a rowan tree, especially if the ground and the tree are covered with 
snow, is a most pleasing sight; and I have often sat and watched them from a window close to 
which was a small mountain-ash, to which they often came to feed on the berries, which latter 
hung in large clusters, like bunches of coral beads, forming a rich contrast to the pure white 
snow. In confinement it thrives well, but is stupid and dull, soon accustoming itself to cage- 
life, even when caught old, eating freely, but seldom uttering even their simple note; and from 
their dirty habits they soon lose their beauty. I have often seen them in cages; but there they 
formed but a sorry contrast to their more fortunate friends who still enjoyed their freedom. 
Mr. H. Seebohm writes to me that some years ago “a German bird-fancier brought a number 
of singing-birds to Sheffield for sale by auction. Amongst these were advertised, as great 
curiosities, a pair of Russian Nightingales. These birds turned out to be a pair of Waxwings, 
which I bought, and kept in a cage for some months. ‘They were most voracious eaters; and the 
cage required cleaning several times a day. ‘They were very active and restless, especially after 
the gas was lighted in the evening, and even when perched at rest seemed to be continually 
moving their heads about as Razorbills are in the habit of doing. If alarmed, they would 
stretch out their necks to almost double the usual length. ‘They were remarkably silent birds. 
The only note I heard was a sort of cir-ir-ir-ir-re, very similar to a well-known note of the 
Blue Tit. Occasionally this succession of notes was repeated so rapidly as to form a trilla, like 
the song of the Lesser Redpole.” 
Few birds’ eggs have been more eagerly sought after than those of the Waxwing; and 
certainly the nesting-habits of no species have been so long enveloped in doubt and uncertainty. 
