WINTER WREN. 129 



beginning of spring. Playfully and with alacrity it performs the task, 

 hopping from one stump or fallen log to another, flitting from twig to twig, 

 from bush to bush, here and there flying a few yards; feeding, singing, and 

 bustling on, as if quite careless as to time or distance. It has reached the 

 shore of some broad stream, and here a person ignorant of its habits might 

 suppose it would be stopped; but no, it spreads its wings, and glides over 

 like a meteor. 



I have found the Winter Wren in the lower parts of Louisiana, and in the 

 Floridas, in December and January, but never saw one there after the end of 

 the latter month. Their stay in those parts rarely exceeds three months; 

 two more are employed in forming a nest and rearing their broods; and as 

 they leave Labrador by the middle of August at the latest, they probably 

 spend more than half of the year in travelling. It would be interesting to 

 know whether those which breed along the Columbia river, near the Pacific 

 Ocean, visit the shores of our Atlantic States. My friend Thomas Nuttall 

 informs me that he occasionally saw the Winter Wren feeding its young in 

 the woods, along the north-west coast. 



At Eastport, in Maine, when on my way to Labrador, I found this species 

 in full song, and extremely abundant, although the air was chill, and icicles 

 hung from every rock, it being then the 9th of May. On the 11th of June, 

 I found it equally plentiful in the Magdeleine Islands, and wondered how it 

 could have made its way there, but was assured by the inhabitants that none 

 were ever seen in winter. On the 20th of July, I met with it at Labrador, 

 and again asked myself, how it could possibly have reached those remote 

 and rugged shores? Was it by following the course of the St. Lawrence, or 

 by flying from one island to another across the Gulf? I have seen it in almost 

 every State of the Union, but only twice found it breeding there, once near 

 the Mohawk river in New York, and again in the Great Pine Swamp in 

 Pennsylvania. It breeds abundantly in Maine, and probably in Massachu- 

 setts, but few spend the winter even in the latter State. 



The song of the Winter Wren excels that of any other bird of its size 

 with which I am acquainted. It is truly musical, full of cadence, energetic, 

 and melodious; its very continuance is surprising, and dull indeed must be 

 the ear that thrills not on hearing it. When emitted, as it often is, from the 

 dark depths of the unwholesome swamp, it operates so powerfully on the 

 mind, that it by contrast inspires a feeling of wonder and delight, and on 

 such occasions has usually impressed me with a sense of the goodness of the 

 Almighty Creator, who has rendered every spot of earth in some way sub- 

 servient to the welfare of his creatures. 



Once when travelling through a portion of the most gloomy part of a 

 thick and tangled wood, in the Great Pine Forest, not far from Mauch Chunk 



Vol. II. 22 



