The Tricolored Redwing 



the all-devouring green. The space immediately over the cattails is 

 sometimes filled suddenly as by a volcanic irruption; but for the most 

 part there is a wholesale coming and going as methodical as that of ants. 



Our entrance into the swamp will not occasion any general alarm. 

 A platoon, of say one hundred of the nearest birds, will rise as by a single 

 impulse, and withdraw quietly to some distant rendezvous. After a 

 decorous lapse of time they will return en masse prepared to resume 

 duties; but if they find us still busy, they will flutter a moment overhead 

 and then make off again. Only as incubation advances will some of the 

 bolder females tarry to reprove. But ever in the offing there is the gentle 

 roar of traffic, of life as it is lived in this wonderland of close-ranked 

 greenery. Heard vaguely, as a sort of composite phonograph, the 

 chorus of Tricolors impresses one by its quaintness, its restraint, and its 

 mild good nature. More attentatively examined, it seems to consist of 

 croaks, gurgles, squeaks, and whistles, the usual Agelaiine repertory played 

 with the "mute" on. But critical attention to the notes of tricolor 

 reveals a world of interest and suggestion. This mild and amiable social- 

 ist has preserved in speech the traditions of earlier associations and 

 relationships. First, there is ajup note of frequent use, which is decidedly 

 Quiscaline in character. Certain other call-notes are like those of their 

 nearest congeners, the Redwings (A. phoeniceus and varieties). But their 

 most characteristic song is a mild edition of the famous "stomach-ache 

 song" of the Yellow-headed Blackbird, and as impossible of description. 

 While this is of commonest occurrence in the swamp, I believe the true 

 mating song is reserved for the official parties, which are invariably held 

 in.treetops at some remove from the swamps. These trysts, or courting 

 fests, indulged in by parties of from ten to forty birds, are an established 

 feature of early springtime; and I believe that those which occur as late 

 as May or June are mere makeshifts, cramming classes for belated lovers. 

 Anyhow, at such time I have heard such intimate phrases as Look awaaay 

 choke, away awaay choke, varied by awaak or chuwaaack choke. 



Then there is the queque note, entirely distinctive, and a rattle 

 remotely like that of a Kingfisher, only smaller and more musical. Still 

 another sound, impossible to characterize accurately, reminds one of a 

 Raven's croak. Add to this the scolding chup of the female, which is 

 exactly like that of a female phoeniceus, and you have the dictionary 

 of tricolor compiled to date. 



But what of the reeds themselves? And what of the baskets they 

 contain? It is a different world we have entered, a simple, separate, 

 mysterious realm where only the blackbirds dwell — and they have fled. 

 The water stands knee-deep, or mid-thigh-deep, or perchance waist-deep, 

 threatening ever to invade another dry inch, which the adventurer is 



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