June 19, 1884.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



403 



proach, and half a minute before her reappearance on the 

 nest nothing was to be seen or heard. As the woods were 

 open I had an excellent opportunity of watching her interest- 

 ing maneuvers and had hoped to be able to note the manner 

 in which the return would be made. 



T wish that some of the advocates of July woodcock 

 shootiug could have seen the devotion of the mother bird. 

 and their views might be modified; aud should these eggs be 

 hatched uow what pleasure would there be in shooting on 

 Aug. 1 a mere chick, six weeks old? 



I wish our Slate law for woodcock read for every county 

 alike— Sept. 15 the first day of the woodcock season. 



As I wrote you some time since, I once found mere fledg- 

 lings in July, but this was the first opportunity 1 ever had 

 of watching the old bird on her nest. 1 had always sup- 

 posed the nest was hidden in the depths of some swamp, but 

 this was on high ground, in a maple grove interspersed with 

 hickory and oak, "and there was no apparent attempt at con- 

 cealment, for it was visible anywhere within a radius of fif- 

 teen or twenty feet, aud was built entirely of grass and small 

 haves, ONONDAGA. 



NORTH AMERICAN BIRDS. 



TEN years have elapsed since the publication of the first 

 three volumes of "North American Birds," by Messrs. 

 Baird, Brewer & Ridgway, and now we have the fourth vol- 

 ume. The first three covered the land birds, and the last 

 two are to complete what will be the greatest work on Amer- 

 ican ornithology since the time of Audubon. 



The delay in the completion of the work has been due to 

 its great cost, no publisher having been found who was will- 

 ing to assume the risk of carrying it out to its end. That we 

 have now the first of the two concluding volumes of the 

 series is due to the liberality of Prof. J. D. Whitney, late 

 State Geologist of California, and of the Director of the 

 Museum of Comparative Zoology of Cambridge, Mass. The 

 present volume is issued as the twelfth of the Memoirs of 

 the Museum, and like those which have preceded it, reflects 

 credit upon the institution which sends it forth. Although 

 "issued in continuation of the publications of the geological 

 survey of California," in its appearance, manner of illus- 

 tration, and general make up, the present volume resembles 

 the first three of the "History of North American Birds," 

 and the authors being the same, it is, as a matter of fact, the 

 continuation of that work. It is true that the lamented 

 Brewer did not live to see the printing of the first volume of 

 the water birds begun, and that portion of the work assigned 

 to him has suffered in consequence of his death. Prof. J. 

 A. Allen has, however, completed some of the unfinished 

 articles, and like all his work, it is well done. 



This work, therefore, coming fresh from the hands of our 

 most eminent ornithologists, being the. most recent work of 

 the kind, and being gotten up without regard to cost.cannot fail 

 to appeal very strongly to every ornithologist. Certainly it 

 is high time that we had these volumes, for, with the ex- 

 ception of the materialin "Birds of the Northwest" and "New 

 England Bird Life," nothing systematic has been published 

 on the water birds of America for very many years. 



The present volume carries us, beginning with the herons, 

 through the so-called wading birds, and well into the Anatinie, 

 the cinnamon teal (Querquedula cyanaptera) being the last spe- 

 cies mentioned. The concluding volume, which is promised 

 in September, will carry us through the water birds, and the 

 greatest modern work on American ornithology will be com- 

 pleted. The descriptive portion of the work is indeed quite be- 

 yond criticism, and it is made more valuable by the numerous 

 excellent figures of the heads, and outline sketches of bills of 

 different species which are scattered everywhere through the 

 text. At the same time we cannot help regretting that the 

 part devoted to the biographies of the water birds should be. 

 as is apparently now the case, somewhat behind the times. 

 Some years have elapsed since the manuscript was prepared 

 for publication, and while the technical and descriptive por- 

 tion of the work has been revised so as to bring it down to 

 date, a considerable portion of Dr. Brewer's work gives no 

 evidence of having been treated in the same way. 



Thus, the biographical sketches of the different species 

 are much the leasts satisfactory portion of the work. They 

 consist almost altogether of citations from different authors, 

 giving very fully the distribution of the different species, 

 but not telling us as much about their habits — their real 

 inner life— as we should like to know, and even as regards 

 distribution we find that the work is by no means brought 

 down to date, and that many interesting observations in the 

 West and elsewhere by some of our best observers — men like 

 Ridgway, Henshaw and Merriam, for example — are not men- 

 tioned. 



The volume appears to be singularly free from errors, 

 though occasionally a loose statement has crept in. Such, 

 for example, is the statement that the habitat of the upland 

 plover (Bartramia longieauda) is "Eastern North America, 

 migrating to Brazil and Peru and extending north to Alaska 

 and Nova Scotia." As a matter of fact, the range of this 

 species extends in the Northern United States west nearly 

 if not quite to the one hundred and twelfth meridian, while 

 further south, near the fortieth parallel, we have ourselves 

 seen it near the bend of the Platte in Western Wyoming. 

 Ridgway took it on Kamas prairie in Utah ; Abert is reported 

 to have sent one from New Mexico, and Henshaw took one 

 in Southeastern Arizona. With all these references it seems 

 scarcely proper to call it an "Eastern bird/' as is sometimes 

 done. 



The nomenclature employed in this volume is, in the main, 

 that announced by Mr. Ridgway in his important paper on 

 the nomenclature of North American birds, published in 

 1881, but here and there we note changes from that list. 

 Thus, we find the so-called English snipe no longer called 

 Oallinago media wilsoni, but, see that it has been restored to 

 specific rank, and that what we formerly thought of as 

 GaUimigo media has, as was predicted would be the case in 

 Dr. Leonhard Stejneger's paper on the subject (Proceedings 

 U. S. Nat. Mus., \ol. V., 1882), taken Frenzel's name, Oal- 

 linago ccelesiis. 



In this volume we have set before us, for the first time in 

 an Americau work on ornithology, full and systematic de- 

 scriptions of a number of extralirnital species, of which one 

 or two individuals have recently been taken within our 

 borders, a fact for which those ornithologists who have 

 not access to large libraries will be profoundly grateful. 



The present volume and the one which is to follow it will 

 be gladly received by sportsmen generally as well as by nat- 



* The | Water Birds | of North America, | by S, T. Baird, T M 

 Brewer | and | R. Ridgway, | Issued in continuation of the | Publica- 

 tions of the (Geological Survey of California. | J. D, Wbituey, State 

 Geologist. | VolumeL | Boston: | Little, Urown and Company. | 1884. | 

 Price (uncolored) $12 per volume. Hand colored $30 per volume. 



uralists. The former will find in it so many of the species 

 which they pursue, that the work is certainly one which 

 should be in the hands of all our readers, who caunot fail to 

 find in it pleasure as well as profit. 



Taken as a whole the work is monumental; its value and 

 its importance can scarcely be overestimated. Praise is not 

 needed for it, since the names of its authors are a sufficient 

 guarantee of the quality of the work, and to say that it is by 

 Baird, Brewer & Ridgway, assisted by Allen, is onby another 

 way of stating that the very best minds among the orni- 

 thologists of this country have combined to produce a work 

 which shall do them credit. 



SEASONS AND BIRDS OF THE PHAIRIE. 



BY H. 8. WILLIAMS, HI. D. 



WHEN old Boreas bursts through the sun-bound coufines 

 of his summer home and comes rushing southward, 

 driving the more tender birds to warmer climes, there are a 

 few species which, more hardy than their followers, fear not 

 the threats of the bluff old gentleman, but remain tobnffet with 

 him. Latest among the little wanderers that come rushing 

 from the north with the first blasts of winter, are the long- 

 spurs {Ceniropluoif? lappowims) aud snow buntings (Plectro- 

 pliarns fi/MtUx). Hardier birds than these there are none: the 

 more boisterous the weather the better pleased they seem. 

 Winter lungs the country folks call them, and truly they 

 deserve the name. They are almost the only birds that, come 

 regularly about the prairie barnyards in the winter. The 

 two species associate together to a considerable extent, 

 hut the lougspurs seem more adundaut and familial-. Seen at 

 his best, the longspur is by no means a plain bird, but at no 

 time will he bear a companion with the snowflake. The 

 latter is indeed a jaunty fellow. How finely contrasted are 

 the black and white of his wings, and what a warm brown 

 hood he wears. Seen hurrying over the prairies, lie is, with 

 the exception of the snowy owl, the most noticeable bird of 

 winter. But I fear his fine feathers make him vain, for he 

 is something of an aristocrat, holding himself rather aloof 

 from the society of man during fine weather, or so long as 

 he can obtain food elsewhere. But during severe storms he 

 sometimes comes familiarly about the stables in quest of food. 

 This has led to the belief, common in some districts, that 

 the appearance of the "white snowbird" predicts a storm, 

 while the coming of the "black snowbird" indicates the ap- 

 proach of fair weather. This last is not necessarily the true 

 hyemalis, which rarely remains in Northern Iowa during the 

 winter, but any of our darker winter bu-ds. Many persons 

 goon a step further and gravely assert that the same indi- 

 viduals actully change color from day to day, becoming white 

 before a storm ' 



Another strictly terrestrial bird, only less hardy than the 

 last, is the shore lark (Evemophiki alpestris). Heisa resident land in spring aud fall, as already mentioned, all move in one 



here, yet somewhat erratic in habits as in flight. I am not 

 surprised if I see him in the depth of the coldest winter, but 

 then he appears only occasionally; and quite, as frequently 

 he is not seen at all during tw r o or three of the coldest 

 months. Some fine February morning, however, as I walk 

 across a meadow or ploughed field in the open country, he 

 starts up before me, and then, as he flies away, he sings. 

 His notes are sweet, but so fine and feeble that you must 

 listen intently or the breeze will bear them from you and they 

 will be lost. The bird may have remained here all winter, 

 but more probably he has just returned from a pleasure trip 

 somewhat further south. At all events he has not sung 

 before, aud 1 herald the note as truly a spring sound. True, 

 spring will not open for a month to come; we shall not see 

 the bluebkd, borne in the same breeze that brings the first 

 whiff of that orange-blossom aroma which all await so im- 

 patiently, for several weeks; but the lark's song reminds us 

 that nature is awakening. It gives us a foretaste of what 

 may not come in reality for a long time. No matter what 

 the weather may be after this, I see the lark daily. If it 

 storms, he utters only a shrill cheep; but if it shine he is full 

 of music. Seated on the ground or upon a fence post, he 

 sings almost constantly. First comes an interrupted prelude, 

 more faint even than the song itself, which is a peculiarly 

 undulating sucession of lisping sounds, sweet, and at time's 

 penetrating. But this is by no means his best performance, 

 though his song is always the same. Later, while his mate 

 broods her eggs on the ground below, he pours forth his 

 music from the skies, as becomes a lark. His ascent is song- 

 less; obliquely, by successive stages he rises, alternately beat- 

 ing a few strokes with those strong wings and gliding with 

 pinions motionless. But having reached the height to which 

 he aspires, his song begins. As he sings, he floats motionless, 

 slowly sinking. The strain ended, a few wing-beats brings 

 him again to the desired height, and again his feeble liquid 

 notes are heard. He is so high that he seems a mere speck 

 against the sky, yet, feeble as are his notes, we hear them 

 distinctly. We must not take our eyes from him or he may 

 be lost, and we shall miss the best part of the performance. 

 Having repeated the strain a score or more times, he pauses 

 for a moment in air, gives a swoop downward, and then, 

 closing his wings, falls like a thing inanimate, rushing earth- 

 ward with almost meteoric rapidity. Surely he will be dashed 

 in pieces; he goes to his own destruction and no power cau 

 save him. But no; when almost to the earth, see him spread 

 those broad wings, swing outward and upward in a graceful 

 curve, and go skimming off across the meadow. What a 

 grand finale! one exclaims involuntarily, and ever afterward 

 we regard the lark with a new interest and class him among 

 the true avian poets. 



I have said that the lark is erratic in habit, but he is by 

 no means as much so as a certain hardy little northerner 

 who is not so exclusively confined to the prairie, yet is never 

 with us found far from the open country. I refer to the red- 

 poll linnet (JEgiotliw Unarm). This little fellow is some- 

 times abundant throughout the winter, sometimes seen only 

 in fall and spring, again is not observed at all during the 

 season. The winter of 1878-9, remarkable for the large 

 number of northern birds it brought to us, gave us among 

 the others numerous redpolls. In the fall I found them in 

 the open prairie, and later they came about the yards in 

 town, associating with the goldfinches, which they resemble 

 in size, in flight, and in one of their call notes. I know a 

 sandy plot by the river, covered with weeds, where these 

 bu-ds could almost always be found, and there, too, perched 

 on the topmost bough of a neighboring tree, might be seen 

 the maraudiug shrike (Lanius borculu), which ever and anon 

 darted with murderous onslaught into the ranks of the 

 finches and, selecting a victim, followed it in hot pursuit 

 through the air. Now up, now down, to this side and to 

 that, darts the affrighted bird, and close behind, following 

 each deviation with the uuerring accuracy of a sleuth hound, 

 comes the blood-thirsty pursuer. Who would not, as he sees 

 the exertions of the little finch become less and less power- 



ful, put an end to the flight of the ruthless shrike? Gladly 

 would we cut him down and tell ourselves that we but gave 

 him his deserts. Yet he only pursues the dictates of his 

 nature; lie kills that he may live; and we who condemn him 

 would pursue as eagerly a rare finch or warbler and shoot it, 

 almost without a throb of compunction, merely that we 

 might dissect and classify, or, giving it a wire skeleton, 

 perch it. in life-like attitude, mocking its once happy actions. 

 But we think not of this as we see the frightened finch 

 almost within the clutches of the shrike. We only wish that 

 we might destroy the pursuer. But it is too late;* they have 

 passed in zig-zag flight, the shrike every moment closing in 

 upon his prey. At last he makes an extra exertion, aud the 

 victim is his. Seized in his bill he bears it sloping to the 

 earth, there to perform the closing scene of the little tragedy, 



In glancing at the character of the shrike, 1 find much to 

 admire. Though small in size, his superior strength and 

 activity more than make up for this deficiency, and few, if 

 any, are the birds to which he yields in open combat. In 

 point of sportsmanship, what one of our hawks is his equal, 

 though he be armed only half as well as they? The little 

 falcons are almost unerring marksmen, but they are pot- 

 hunters. Failing to secure their victim at one sudden sweep, 

 they leave it and go in search of another standing mark. 

 Not so the shrike. True, he sometimes "pots" a bird; 1 am 

 not certain that he would not always do so of a preference; 

 but, failing in this, he gives chase, like a true sportsmen, and 

 the victory is giveu to the swifter pair of wings, 



The northern shrike, to which reference is here made, 

 visits us only during the winter. His congener, the logger- 

 head {Lanius ludoincianus), is a regular and rather common 

 summer resident, found only in the open country, and nest- 

 ing in hedges or groves of cottonwood, 1 have not known 

 him to exercise his sportsmanship upon anything larger than 

 a grasshopper, and think he confines himself largely, if not 

 exclusively, to insectorial prey. 



One can scarcely speak of prairie birds and say nothing of 

 the king of them'gall— the pinnated grouse — though he has 

 been so often and so well described that every one is familiar 

 with at least the outlines of his history. With us, as else- 

 where, he is termed a resident, yet I doubt whether many 

 individuals spend the entire year in one latitude. Each fall 

 large flights of grouse pass over the towns, always headed 

 toward the southeast, and in the spring a corresponding 

 number all northwest bound. These flights occur mainly at 

 dusk and in the early morning. The birds fly in scattered 

 companies, as low as 'barely to miss the tops of the trees and 

 houses; the shrill whizzing of their wings tells of their prox- 

 imity before they are seen, and a view of them gives one a 

 conception of momentum which, it seems to me, could be 

 made more vivid by nothing less than a cannon ball. At no 

 other season are the grouse seen to make extended flights, 



direction, northwest and southeast, respectively. This would 

 seem to be sufficient proof that, with us at any rate, indi- 

 viduals of this species are migratory, though collectively 

 they are certainly resident, being as abundant during the 

 most severe winter as at any other season, and, of course, 

 far more conspicuous, there being nothing to afford u hiding 

 place. They begin to "pack" early in the winter, and some- 

 times associate in immense flocks, numbering in some rare 

 cases many thousands. This happens only when there are 

 very large fields of unhusked corn in a particular section, 

 affording peculiarly favorable conditions for the existence of 

 a large number together. -Under such circumstances 1 once 

 saw a flock of grouse which, when on the wing, extended 

 continuously for a distance of fully half a mile, the stream — 

 for such it seemed — being perhaps fifty yards wide and three 

 or four tiers deep; this entire space," be it understood, as 

 closely packed as ample wing-room would permit. Such 

 flocks as this are very unusual, but two or three hundred in- 

 dividuals are frequently associated together. Outlined against 

 the snowy sheet that covers the prairie, they are very con- 

 spicuous and afford a great temptation to the sportsman; but 

 they are so wary that it is almost useless to stalk them on 

 foot, except during a storm. In a sled one can often approach 

 within fair range ; but he who would at down right and left 

 now must be no novice, for the grouse is no longer the 

 weakling that we knew in August. " At best, only small bags 

 are possible, and no one here thinks of doing much grouse 

 shootiug after the fall "packing" begins. 



To the Eastern man, traveling over our beautiful summer 

 prairies, it is a matter for constant wonder that no grouse are 

 seen, even though he is assured that he is in the midst of 

 their haunts. From May till October one may ride con- 

 stantly through a country where grouse abound without 

 catching more than an occasional glimpse of an anxious hen 

 skulking with her brood by the roadside. Even if actual 

 search be made, it is a mere chance if it be successful; and 

 we might as well hunt a fox without hounds as to hope to 

 make a bag of grouse in the early fall without the assistance 

 of a dbg. It is much to be regretted that the grouse are 

 yearly becoming less abundant in Iowa; but as we have a 

 pretty generally observed game law, it will be many years 

 before anything like complete extermination is threatened 

 them, even in the eastern part of the State. The gradual 

 and steady decrease in their numbers is, of course, attributed 

 to the sportsman ; but there is a cause over which man has 

 no control that operates more efficiently than any other in 

 deciding the relative abundance of grouse in any particular 

 season, viz., the June freshet. If the backwardness of the 

 season has prevented the grouse from mating early, and in 

 addition the succession of June storms that we almost al- 

 ways experience begins early, large numbers of the chicks 

 are drowned; and it may safely be predicted that small 

 "coveys" will be the rule in the fall. Occasionally an entire 

 brood is destroyed, in which case the mother bird again 

 undertakes the maternal duties; and wheu the "season" 

 opens in the fali, her chicks will be no larger than half- 

 grown quails and barely able to make a feeble flight of a 

 hundred yards. 



But I have given more space than I intended to the grouse, 

 and will only mention a fe/w other common winter residents 

 that help to add interest to the dreary aspect of the prairie 

 ■landscape during the season. The most conspicuous of these 

 is the snowy owl, which is a regular, though not a very com- 

 mon resident. The short-eared owl ( Asio itci'tpitriniis) is more 

 common, and is, furthermore, a resident, nesting in May or 

 June on the ground among the grass in the open, unbroken 

 -""prairie. The same remark will apply to the marsh hawk 

 (Circus hudsonius), but these latter are more abundant during 

 the summer, and are, no doubt, partially migratory. The 

 marsh hawk is apparently a, feebly organized bird, well fitted 

 to prey upon small birds, frogs, etc., but he is capable, when 

 pressed by hunger, of much greater feats. I once witnessed 

 a most exciting chase, in which one of these birds was the 

 pursuer, and the pursued no less a bird than a full-grown 



