WHAT BIRDS SAY AND SING 231 



takes on a tone of dissension, in prolonged syllables 

 there conies from tlie summer woods the crow cry : 



Ca-cack-ca-caw ! ' ' 



Like our titmouse in syllabication, but the notes 

 raised in tone, every summer the oriole comes into 

 my woods crying: "Hewit? Hewit?" These 

 birds have a beautiful, rolling, whistled song of 

 many notes. They have the irritating habit of 

 opening a song with a note, clear and exquisite, 

 then stopping to swallow a berry or snatch up an 

 insect, delivering another note, making a flight to 

 an adjoining perch, where very probably they for- 

 get that they have started a strain, thus leaving 

 the listener in irritated suspense. When one 

 becomes utterly provoked with them, they may 

 remember and finish the strain, or they may take 

 wing, bubbling out in complete spontaneity notes 

 so high and sweet and musical that they wipe out 

 the memory of the former indignity to the feelings. 

 I can think of no words in which to syllabify this 

 song. The orioles have an alarm call, delivered 

 around their nests and young, very clearly uttered 

 and very appropriately, a staccato cry: "Check! 

 Check!" like the blackbird's notes in syllabication, 

 entirely unlike them in delivery. 



There are no birds more voluble than orioles, 

 the females having many things to say when they 

 are gathering nest material and while they are 

 busy building. They openly rejoice over every 

 string and hair they find suitable for their purpose. 



