AMERICAN BITTERN. 



43 



ous for their safety. From this time, the whole family continue 

 to associate together through the autumn and winter. They seem 

 to move by concert from tree to tree, keeping up a continued 

 Hshe-de-de-de-de and Hshe-de-de-de-dait , preceded by a shrill 

 whistle, all the while busily engaged, picking round the buds and 

 branches, hanging from their extremities, and proceeding often in 

 reversed postures, head downward, like so many tumblers, pry- 

 ing into every crevice of the bark, and searching around the roots, 

 and in every possible retreat of their insect prey or its larvae. If 

 the object chance to fall, they industriously descend to the ground, 

 and glean it up with the utmost economy. 



On seeing a cat, or other object of natural antipathy, the Chicka- 

 dee, like the peevish Jay, scolds in a loud, angry, and hoarse 

 note, like Hshe d&igh, d&igh. Among the other notes of this 

 species, I have heard a call like 'tshe-de-jay, 'tshe-de-jay, the two 

 first syllables being a slender chirp, with the jay strongly pro- 

 nounced. Almost the only note of this bird which may be called 

 song is one which is frequently heard at intervals in the depths 

 of the forests, at times of the day, usually, when all other birds 

 are silent. We then may sometimes hear, in the midst of this 

 solitude, two feeble, drawling, clearly-whistled, and rather mel- 

 ancholy notes, like He-dZrry, and sometimes 'ye-ftrrit, and occa- 

 sionally, but much more rarely, in the same wiry, whistling, sol- 

 emn tone, -plJibb. The } T oung, in winter, also, sometimes drawl 

 out these contemplative strains. In all cases, the first syllable is 

 very high and clear, the second word drops low, and ends like a 

 feeble plaint. This is nearly all the quaint song ever attempted 

 by the Chickadee, and is, perhaps, the two notes sounding like the 

 whetting of a saw. On fine days, about the commencement of 

 October, I have heard the Chickadee, sometimes for half an hour 

 at a time, attempt a lively, petulent warble, very different from 

 his ordinary notes. On these occasions, he appears to flirt about, 

 still hunting for his prey, but almost in an ecstasy of delight and 

 vigor. But, after a while, the usual drawling note again occurs. 

 These birds, like many others, are very subject to the attacks of 

 vermin, and they accumulate in great numbers around that part 

 of the head and front which is least accessible to their feet. 



The Chickadee is seldom seen near waters ; often, even in sum- 

 mer, in dry, shady, and secluded woods ; but when the weather 

 becomes cold, and as early as October, roving families, urged by 

 necessity, and the failure of their ordinary insect-fare, now begin 

 to frequent orchards and gardens, appearing extremely familiar, 

 hungry, indigent, but industrious, prying with restless anxiety 

 into every cranny of the bark or holes in decayed trees, after dor- 

 mant insects, spiders, and larvse, descending with the strictest 

 economy to the ground in quest of every stray morsel of provision 

 which happens to fall from their grasp. Their quaint notes and 

 jingling warble are heard even in winter, on fine days, when the 

 weather relaxes in its severity ; and, in short, instead of being the 

 river hermit of its European analogue, it adds, by its presence, 

 indomitable action, and chatter, an air of cheerfulness to the silent 

 and dreary winters of the coldest parts of America. Dr. Rich- 

 ardson found it in the fur countries up to the sixty-fifth parallel, 

 where it even contrives to dwell, as in other parts of the continent, 

 throughout the whole year. — JVultall. 



It is generally known that this species is one of our resident 

 birds, and that he is active, restless, and noisy. According to 

 Audubon, it is hardy, smart, restless, industrious, and frugal. 

 The Black-cap Titmouse ranges through the forest during the sum- 

 mer, and, retiring to its more secluded parts, as if to ensure a 

 greater degree of quiet, it usually breeds there. Numerous eggs 

 produce a numerous progeny; and as soon as the first brood has 

 been reared, the young range hither and thither, in a body, search- 

 ing for food, while their parents, intent on forming another family, 

 remain concealed, and almost silent, laying their eggs in the hole 

 deserted by some small Woodpecker, or forming one for them- 

 selves. The Black-cap Titmouse, or Chickadee, as it is generally 

 named in our Eastern States, though exceedingly shy in summer, 



or during the breeding season, becomes quite familiar in winter, 

 although it never ventures to enter the habitations of man ; but, in 

 the most boisterous weather, requiring neither food nor shelter, 

 then, it may be seen amidst the snow, in the rugged paths of the 

 cheerless woods, when it welcomes the traveler or the wood-cutter 

 with a confidence and cheerfulness far surpassing the well-known 

 familiarity of the Robin Redbreast of Europe. Often, on such 

 occasions, should you offer it no matter how small a portion of your 

 fare, it alights without hesitation, and devours it without manifesting 

 any apprehension. The sound of an ax in the woods is sufficient to 

 bring forth several of these busy creatures ; and having discovered 

 the woodman, they seem to find pleasure in his company. Ac- 

 cording to Wilson, they are most usually seen during the fall and 

 winter, when they leave the depths of the woods, and approach 

 nearer to the scenes of cultivation. At such seasons, they abound 

 among evergreens, feeding on the seeds of the pine-tree ; they 

 are also fond of sunflower seeds, and associate in parties of six, 

 eight, or more, attended by the two species of Nuthatch, the 

 Crested Titmouse, Brown Creeper, and small Spotted Wood- 

 pecker, the whole forming a very nimble and restless company, 

 whose food, manners, and dispositions are pretty much alike. 

 About the middle of April, they begin to build, choosing the de- 

 serted hole of a Squirrel or Woodpecker, and sometimes, with in- 

 credible labor, digging out one for themselves. The female lays 

 six white eggs, marked with minute specks of red. The first 

 brood appear about the middle of June, and the second toward the 

 end of July. The whole of the family continue to associate to- 

 gether during winter. This species has a very extensive range ; 

 it has been found on the western coast of America, as far north as 

 sixty-two degrees latitude ; it is common at Hudson's Bay, and 

 most plentiful there during winter, as it then approaches the set- 

 tlements in quest of food. Protected by a remarkably thick cov- 

 ering of long, soft, downy plumage, it braves the severest cold of 

 those northern regions. 



PLATE XXXIII. 



The American Bittern. (Botaurus lentiginosus). 



Fig. i. 



The Bittern of America, though nowhere numerous, is found 

 in almost every part of the continent where there exist extensive 

 marshes, either maritime or inland, up to the fifty-eighth parallel 

 of northern latitude,* where they are frequent, in the morasses 

 and willow thickets of the interior, throughout the fur countries. 

 From the inclement regions, they retire in winter, while, in other 

 parts, they are permanently resident. They are said to revisit 

 Severn river, at Hudson's Bay, about the beginning of June, 

 when they make their nests in the swamps, among the sedge, 

 and lay four cinerous green eggs. They breed, also, in several 

 parts of the State of Massachusetts, young birds being met with 

 in the marshes of Fresh pond, and other places in the vicinity 

 of Boston, about the middle of summer. 



During the day, the Night Hen, as it is called, remains hid in 

 the reeds and sedge, and rarely comes out till the approach of 

 night. When disturbed in its retreat, it flies off with a hollow 

 'h'va, or kowk, and sometimes gives a loud squeak of alarm. At 

 this time, as it flies heavily, and at no great height, it is easily 

 shot down ; they are also sometimes obtained by laying wait for 

 them as they sally out in the evening, toward the salt marshes, in 

 a particular direction, in quest of their usual supply of food. 



In the breeding season, and throughout a great part of the sum- 

 mer, we often hear the loud, booming note of this bird, from the 

 marshes of Fresh pond, morning and evening, and sometimes even 



♦Richardson's North. Zool., ii, p. 374. 



