The Lark Bunting 



or relieved with whitish below. The only ornament she is allowed to 

 wear is a creamy shoulder patch, and this must be reefed to the smallest 

 possible dimensions, save in flight. But the male, bless you, has solved 

 the problem of splendor — splendor plus economy. When family cares are 

 over for the season, and it is time to think of getting ready for the annual 

 southern trip, this crafty Beau Brummel orders a brand new black suit 

 with white trimmings, say, epaulettes and braid. But when, after the 

 last try-on, he comes out of the tailor shop (that is, the post-nuptial molt) 

 late in August, he is nearly enveloped from head to foot in a flaxen "duster," 

 suitable for travelling. The new black suit is there, you know, but since 

 the bird can carry no bags, the tailor-made does duty for underclothes. 

 Only with advancing springtime do the ends of the feathers wear away 

 (aptosochromatism the ornithologists call it), and disclose to view the 

 resplendent black of the wooer and gallant, the troubadour poet of the 

 prairies. 



The Lark Bunting, though a very self-sufficient and straight-forward 

 mortal, is, nevertheless, a bit of a puzzle to the science. Lark he is not, 

 for his claws are not lengthened like those of the Alaudidce, nor even like 

 those of certain other terrestrial finches. The name comes only from his 

 habit of singing a-wing. Viewed structurally, he is, no doubt, a sparrow. 

 The turgid beak suggests Emberiza of the Old World, so that the name 

 "Bunting," otherwise little used in America, may be allowed to pass. 

 The eggs which, in this species, are spotless green (niagara green), or, very 

 rarely, maculated, link the bird to Spiza, and possibly to the lesser gros- 

 beaks. But this black grosbeak of the prairies looks and acts more like 

 a Bobolink. He is much the shape and size of a Bobolink; the contrast 

 between nuptial and eclipse plumage is the same; and the flocking of 

 winter is not altogether different. 



The normal winter range of Calamospiza is Texas, Arizona, Lower 

 California, and the Mexican table-land. Occasionally the autumnal 

 migrants overshoot the mark and land in southern California; but oftener, 

 apparently, the records are made in the spring by migrants which, return- 

 ing from Lower California, pursue a course a little too far northward 

 before swinging to the east. Winter flocks may be composed of both 

 sexes in equal or very unequal proportions. They feed quietly upon the 

 ground in the open, whether along a river bottom or over the baldest 

 desert. The Lark Buntings are not averse to civilization, and they some- 

 times frequent Mexican dooryards or barnyards with much the freedom 

 and something of the manner of blackbirds. And because they are seen 

 lingering on into May is no sign that they are going to breed with us; for 

 the spring winds of Manitoba blow chill and there is no hurry. 



Encountered upon his native prairie, Calamospiza gives one a vivid 



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