OVENBIRD. 239 
Churr! churr! churr! and a brood of young Ruffed Grouses start a few steps before 
me in all directions like an explosion, disappearing in the dense underwood with 
astonishing rapidity. Everything is quiet. If we wait silently behind a screen of 
ferns and bushes we may hear the wild hen call together her brood with a soft per- 
suasive cooing, ‘‘a sound so subtle and wild and unobtrusive that it requires the most 
alert and watchful ear to hear it. How gentle and solicitous and full of yearning love! 
Presently a faint timid ‘yeap!’ which almost eludes the ear, is heard in various direc- 
tions, — the young responding. As no longer danger seems near, the cooing of the 
parent bird is soon a very audible clucking call, and the young move cautiously in its 
direction. Let me step never so carefully from my hiding place, and all sounds instantly 
cease, and I search in vain for either parent or young.’”’ (Burroughs.) How frequently 
did I disturb in this way a brood of partridges, and how often have I heard, especially 
in warm gloomy days, the drumming sounds of the male bird! How must every friend 
of nature regret that at present these sounds fall so rarely on our ear! The drumming 
of the Ruffed Grouse is one of the most welcome and beautiful sounds of spring. The 
woods where I do not find this bird, seem to want something; they seem to suffer from 
some neglect of nature. I must refer the reader to Mr. John Burroughs’ exquisite little 
volume “Wake-Robin” (pp. 74—77), where an excellent description of the partridge and 
its ways is given. All of Burroughs’ books enshrine so many jewels that every house- 
hold and school library is incomplete without them. 
Though the Indian has gone forever, though the larger mammals and birds 
vanished from these woods, though the once extensive forests were cut down by the 
axe of the woodsman, only small remnants being left, many of the smaller birds are 
still common. In all the woodlands of Wisconsin, whether dry or moist, we find the 
OVENBIRD, or GOLDEN-CROWNED THRUSH. Most common it is in the woods referred to 
above, especially near water-courses where the underwood is dense, and pines and hem- 
locks predominate. Ruffed Grouses, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Redstarts, Red-eyed Vireos, 
and Blue Jays are its nearest neighbors. It is a true forest bird, rarely being detected 
near the woodland border. We usually see it ramble daintily over the ground among old 
leaves, wood-lilies, ferns, ground pines, trailing arbutus, and other plants. The Ovenbirds 
walk and run over the ground very prettily, ‘‘with a certain nonchalance, as if only 
sauntering for their amusement; now furtively examining the pathway in search of 
food, now turning a curious but quiet eye upon the intruder; and when alarmed they 
fly directly to some low perch in a tree, where they sit in silent but watchful purpose.” 
The ways of the Ovenbird, especially its running over the ground, and its color, remind 
one of the smaller Thrushes. This is the reason why it was formerly classed with that 
family, and called Golden-crowned Thrush. The popular name of Ovenbird was given 
to it because of the usual oven-shape of the nest, and Wagtail, because of the habit of 
flirting its tail. For the same reason its name in Jamaica is Land Kickup. 
The Ovenbird’s breeding range extends over eastern North America, north to Hud- 
son’s Bay and Alaska, west to Kansas, south to the Ohio valley and Virginia. It 
winters in southern Florida, the West Indies, and Central America. During the spring 
migration I found it a very numerous bird from Texas and Florida to Wisconsin. In 
south-western Texas it arrives early in April. On the 19th of the same month, the 
