274 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 21, 1887. 



BIRDS OF WOOD AND STREAM, 



THERE are birds which cannot be termed "silent 

 partners,'' though thej are not singing birds. Among 

 these is the "Kennedy bird," or "Old Tom Peabody." 

 When yon have been "thrashing" a salmon pool or trout 

 stream for hours, on one of summer's hottest days, with- 

 out any grand results, and you are disposed to find fault 

 with yourself and all the world, the only sound to break 

 the solemn silence is the buzz of the mosquito, or the gen- 

 tle plash of the water against rock or river bank, until 

 suddenly from the tree overhead is heard distinctly, in 

 clear, unbroken notes, "Oh, poor Kennedy, Kennedy," as 

 if in sympathy at your want of success. Nor does the 

 chick-a-dee (blackcap titmouse) give you a very friendly 

 reception to the river bank. The clear note from which 

 his name is derived is thus curtly translated, "what do 

 you want here?" 



Then on Sunday morning, after a week's hard work 

 with rod and gun," you "rest and are thankful," reclining 

 on spruce bough couch, building castles in the air, and 

 knocking them down again: then "all is still save the 

 echoing sound" of the friendly woodpecker, who most 

 surely and suddenly breaks the long silence by taps, sharp 

 and loud, with his hard bill on the overhanging stump. 



The partridge (ruffed grouse), though no songster, is not 

 a silent bird. As you walk the woods and pick your steps 

 with moccasined foot, following an ill-defined deer track 

 on a fine October day, no leaf is moved nor twig snapped 

 lest the quarry should be disturbed in perhaps his mid- 

 day slumber ' on the sunny side of lull or bank— all at 

 once there comes to your ears the drumming of the cock. 



Mention must also be made of the shrill cry of the blue- 

 jay, something like a kingfishers well-known alarm. 

 To hear this in perfection you should be swiftly paddling 

 down stream in bark canoe, after the arduous task of 

 poling up, on an autumnal day, when the foliage, having 

 changed its coat of many colors for garb of more somber 

 hue, is falling fast, all nature seems in mourning, the 

 jay darts from the wooded bank and, with a series of 

 shrill notes, "discordant heard alone," echoed from hill- 

 side to hillside, wends its way down stream till lost to 

 eye or ear. 



To the above (birds who "make noise" but don't sing) 

 may be added, among others, the common forest 

 (barred) owl, and the loon (great northern diver), both of 

 which have their own peculiar weird sounds. The owl 

 is best heard in the stillness of night when you camp in 

 the deep forest. The shrill cry of the loon travels far 

 across lake and through forest, and is heard with joy by 

 those who make the portage from the headwaters of one 

 river to those of another, since it is a sure indication of 

 the approach to the lake whose outlet you seek. 



John Burroughs suggests that "it is probably true that a 

 dweller in England hears more bird music through the 

 year than a dweller in this country, and that which is of 

 a superior order. In the first place, there is not so much 

 of it lost upon the desert ah, upon the wild unlistening 

 solitudes. The English birds are more domestic and 

 familiar than ours, and are brought nearer together and 

 nearer to man. Wood birds here are house and garden 

 birds there. They find good pasturage and protection 

 everywhere. A land of parks and gardens, and hedge 

 rows and game preserves, and a climate free from vio- 

 lent extremes — what a stage for the birds and for enhanc- 

 ing the effect of their songs." 



Notwithstanding all this and more than this that coidd 

 be added, I know of no country in which singing birds 

 are more appreciated than in eastern America. After the 

 long winter, when all is silent in forest and on farm, 

 save the sound of woodman's axe, merry sleigh bell, or 

 of the few birds that are content to remain, in spite of 

 frost and snow, in the forests. How eagerly one awaits 

 the arrival of the first robin. Often he is~ on first arrival, 

 checked in his career of song by oft recurring spring 

 snowstorms; on return of sunshine, however, lie sings 

 again with renewed vigor, until summer has fairly set in, 

 when he and his mate have it all their own way, their 

 "full concert" being only interrupted by attention to 

 family duties. 



Not far inferior in point of excellence as a singing bird 

 is the song sparrow {MeXpspiza melodia). What a con- 

 trast is this melodious songster to the brilliantly clad and 

 silent tropical birds who "love the garish day." What a 

 contrast, too, to his cousin, the cheeky English house 

 sparrow. 



I know of no more enjoyable thing on a summer's day, 

 as you wander dreamily through the woods or recline 

 lazily on a river bank — having laid down rod and fishing, 

 cried enough — than to compare the notes of the different 

 birds of song— the rich melody of the red-eyed vireo (the 

 most common and perhaps best-loved bird) with the 

 laughing song of the well-known bobolink, the canary- 

 like song of Canada's canary, the thistle bird, with that 

 of his kinsman, the pine goldfinch, whom he is like in 

 appearance, and of the different warblers (a large family) 

 who seem to vie with each other in soft, trilling notes, 

 without the variety of song you would expect. 



It is not the general opinion that the mooss bird, the 

 Canada jay and the red crossbill, dwellers in the forest 

 alike in winter and summer, and frequent visitors to the 

 hunters' and lumbermen's camps, are singing birds. The 

 moose bird is the most daring of birds, and will silently 

 and stealthily visit your tent and light on the edge of 

 the frying pan, which the cook has for a moment laid 

 aside, and in the calmest manner fly to the branch of 

 the nearest tree with the stolen piece of pork, soon to 

 return for another issue of camp rations. But he will give 

 no song in return for camp favors or camp food. The 

 red crossbill, too, in winter is as silent as he is quiet in 

 his movements. Both birds, however, in spring and 

 early summer break forth in an unsuspected flow of 

 song with which they have cheered the heart of the 

 weary trapper, returned to camp from his long day's 

 tramp visiting traps, or the lumbermen, in their brief 

 moments of rest in spring's arduous and dangerous 

 work, when the ice having departed the stream is swell- 

 ing high with water from melting snow, and the logs arc 

 carried from point to point until the boom, or the saw 

 mill , is reached. To men such as these, at times such as 

 these, "how sweet the coming on of grateful evening 

 mild; then silent night with this her solemn bird." 



Singing Bird. 



Fbederioton, K B. 



STRIPED SQUIRREL'S NAME AND WAYS. 



CHARLESTOWN, N. H., April 11.— Much as I admire 

 the ingenious comparison by your esteemed corre- 

 spondent, "Awahsoose," of the jolly little rodent to 

 "Friar Tuck" of immortal memory to* all time lovers of 

 the "greenwood," I yet imagine "that he will have to 

 come nearer home and to later days to find the origin and 

 etymology of the name. I have always heard it said that 

 it was the Indian name of the little fellow, and as corrob- 

 orative evidence of the fact, when I lived in the good old 

 town of Springfield, Mass., some thirty odd years ago, 

 there was a locality in the northern part of the old town, 

 on the Chicopee River, where the high sandy plains 

 which stretch from the base of Mt. Holyoke southward 

 to the border of Connecticut, drop down suddenly 100ft. 

 or more to the level of the present meadows, the steep 

 bluff fringed with oaks, nut trees and evergreens, which 

 went among the older inhabitants by the name of "Skip- 

 mude," and was said to be so ealled from the number of 

 these little animals found there by the early settlers. 



I cannot say how the truth may be, 

 I hut tell the tale as 'twas told to me. 



On the edge of this steep bluff, in the heart of the pres- 

 nt city, stands the United States Arsenal, overlooking 

 the trees and the meadows on the opposite side of the 

 river, and far "up and down the river to the north and 

 south, and affording one of the most beautiful prospects 

 in the ever beautiful Connecticut Valley. 



My pet red squirrel left his winter quarters in the attic 

 yesterday, and was having a high frolic in the butternut 

 opposite my window, and although I could not hear him, 

 I could tell by the jerks and vibrations, which ran from 

 the tip of his nose to the end of his tail, that he was wel- 

 coming the bright warm day in squirrel fashion to the 

 best of his ability. 



Like "Silas Wegg," I sometimes "drop into poetry," 

 and the beautiful weather thawed my pen out, too, and I 

 send you the result as my spring contribution to your 

 ever welcome columns, which I hope to be able to follow 

 up later with the records of my angling experiences, if I 

 have any luck worth noting. At any rate I am getting 

 rods and tackle in order for the middle or last of May, 

 which is as soon as I expect to be able to use them in this 

 latitude this year. Von W. 



The disposition which the ground squirrel makes of 

 dirt from the burrow may serve two purposes, one being 

 that absence of dirt from the mouth of the burrow ren- 

 ders the burrow less liable to be found by an enemy; the 

 second, that the original burrow filled 'with the loosely 

 packed dirt, serves as a drain to carry off any water that 

 might find its way in. The burrow from which my 

 opinions were formed was situated near- the top of a 

 gravely bank, its mouth being concealed by fallen brush, 

 thus affording means of approach without leaving a 

 direct trail to it. Digging down to the nest I found that 

 the burrow leading to it extended down the bank for 6 

 or 8in., then turned to the righ t at an angle of about 60", 

 then extended 8 or lOin. further, ending in a space 4 or 

 Sin. in width by 2 or 8in. hi height, in which was placed 

 the nest of grass, about as much as could be held in the 

 hand. The top and upper sides of the cavity were hard and 

 firm, but at the lowest side where the burrow entered it, 

 the ground was soft as if it had been dug up before. 

 This, I think, was the refilled burrow, which, being at 

 the lowest point and leading to a still lower level, would 

 answer as a drain to keep the nest dry. These are the 

 opinions I formed after examination of the burrows. 

 Perhaps some one can tell us if this is the general plan 

 of construction. j n Q uirer 



RANDOM BIRD NOTES. 



DR. ABBOTT says that otu- woods, at least in mid- 

 winter, often contain as many birds as in mid- 

 summer, and almost equal the early spring. This may 

 be true, in some instances, but as a general fact, winter 

 bird life, at least in this locality, is very changeable. The 

 coming and going of the buds is sometimes mysterious. 

 For days we may see loose scattered flocks of various 

 native species about our gardens and in the fields and 

 waste-lands; then, again, some days may elapse before 

 we note anything more than a few noisy crows or, per- 

 haps, here and there a lisping chickadee. 



The past winter, by the way, has been an open one— 

 often mild springy weather, lasting for several days at a 

 time, and with little snow. The only heavy fall of snow 

 occurred about Nov. 12, and with only an occasional 

 flurry, the ground has been bare the greater part of the 

 winter, thus giving many birds a good chance to thrive. 



Early in the season, from Nov. 14 to Dec. 80, the gold- 

 finches, tree sparrows and snowbirds were fairly abund- 

 ant about edges of woods and along country waysides, 

 but during midsummer only small straggling flocks of 

 the latter" species made their appearance, and of the 

 former I failed to note a single specimen. As spring ad- 

 vanced the snowbirds appeared in larger numbers. 



Cedar birds have been more numerous during the past 

 winter than in former seasons. A flock of about thirty 

 visited our apple trees the 6th of February, but having a 

 constant inclination to roam about, soon departed. I after- 

 ward noticed their appearance in larger numbers m 

 various parts of the village. A few stragglers hung about 

 our trees for more than a week, and during this stay their 

 rliet must have consisted entirely of the frozen apples 

 that were still clinging to the branches. Even this meager 

 fare as I fiequentlv observed, was begrudged the wax- 

 wings by the English sparrow, and caused quite a wrang- 

 ling and chattering among them. Nevertheless, the cedar 

 buds made prettv clean work of the frozen apples as 

 hardly anything was left but the cores, and these after- 

 ward helped to make a scanty meal for the early robin. 



One of the most punctual winter visitors is the downy 

 woodpecker, and it would seem very strange indeed if he 

 did not make his appearance. Generally solitary.strag- 

 glers have been seen and heard almost daily throughout 

 the winter, and their brisk notes and loud tappings are 

 always interesting winter sounds. A gnarly old apple 

 tree near the house was visited nearly every morning last 

 winter by a hairy woodpecker, and in a large, de ca yed 

 stub jutting out from the bole I noticed several holes an 

 inch deep which this industrious bird had excavated in his 

 eagerness to get at the grubs. This bud is only an occa 

 sional visitor to our trees, but is more common in the 

 woods. Last season I attracted the woodpecker by nail- 

 ' ing pieces of fat on an apple tree. Five or six were 



punctually at hand every morning, and sometimes were 

 even accompanied by a few nuthatches and chickadees, 

 who also greedily joined in the fatty feast. I replenished 

 the supply several times, but at last when this failed they 

 were not so punctual in coming. In general the downy 

 and hairy are the only woodpeckers that remain with lis 

 during the winter. The highhole is occasionally heard 

 but seldom seen. While walking in a hemlock wood 

 early in January I heard the otes of one. but I failed to 

 find the bird that uttered theme 



Three species of birds made then- appearance here dur - 

 ing 'the past season which I hav e never seen in this local 

 ity— the American pipit or titlark, the Carolina turtle 

 dove and the horned iark 1 first noted the appearance 

 of a pair of the latter while crossing an upland stubble 

 field some time in January and since then I have fre- 

 quently noticed tii€£n m small Jocks in the neighboring 

 wheat fields and meadows. Earl/ in the season I observed 

 a solitary specimen of the titlark in a field near the 

 woods, but failed to find another one during the winter. 

 Several turtle ('e ves have been seen at frequent intervals. 



On the whole > chickadees are our prevailing winter 

 residents, and. in their excursions to the orchards and 

 gardens are v?ry often accompanied by nuthatches, 

 though in smaller numbers. Tiny kinglets are also fre- 

 quently seen in company with these birds. It must be a 

 cold day indeed when the chickadee, the "winter's own 

 darling," is not abroad to cheer us with its happy ways. 

 I hear its beautiful p7ie-6e note now nearly every day. 



Of the other winter buds which I have observed in my 

 walks in field and wood and about the garden, I will 

 mention several bluejays and robins, which were seen 

 near the houre early in the season; crows in small num- 

 bers, generally solitary or in pairs, and seven or eight 

 partridges. I know of a small place of woods, in which 

 I very seldom, fail to scare up one of these hardy birds 

 and nearly always in the same place. I noticed the same 

 last season. 



Before concluding this random sketch allow me to say 

 a word about the English sparrows, which are so numer- 

 ous in this village. At the present time some of them 

 seem to be busy building their nests -indeed, I noticed one 

 building its neat on a maple tree early in February. All 

 the cavities in the old apple trees which in former years 

 were the chor.en nesting places of the bluebirds, are 

 eagerly taken up by these pugnacio is little pests, and not 

 a strange bird is aUowed to come near them. Even the 

 downy woodpecker who sometimes ventures too close to 

 the cavities in search of his accustomed fare, is likelv to 

 be rudely disturbed, but he generally, puts on a bold 

 front. The tin: id, gentle bluebird submits to all the spar- 

 row's persecutions. Early last spring a bluebird was 

 seen to inspect a certain cavity and timidly enter, but it 

 seems the usurr. er was at home, as hardly a second elapsed 

 before he camo forth again in great haste, closely pur- 

 sued by a span ow. After that incident the bluebirds 

 were scarce in the vicinity of these trees. 



A few springy days occurred the first week in March. 

 On the 8th I not'eed robins and bluebirds, and a few days 

 later purple gn ckles and song sparrows made their 

 appearance. On the 26th I heard the notes of a meadow 

 lark. Another snowy owl was captured about a month 

 ago in the woods aear this j village by some boys. 



D a ns vxi/Lis, N. Y.,April 4 * UNCAS. 



ISTH ERE ANOTHER VAR1ETYOF QUAIL? 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



When acting as chairman of the committee on habits 

 of species of the International Association for Protec- 

 tion of Fish and Game, which was organized by Mr. Hal- 

 lock some years ago, I received a letter on habits of species, 

 written by Dr. M. F. Taylor, of Amelia, Va., a very ex- 

 perienced and observant sportsman, from which I make 

 the following extract. The letter is of date June 15, 1878: 

 "The common field partridge requires no description. 

 The other variety which frequents the shrub oak thickets 

 is of a browner color, less in size and flies with great 

 rapidity. When put to flight it usually rises above the 

 tops of the trees which the common field partridge sel- 

 dom does." 



Out of my own experience I may add that when a 

 youth my brother and myself _ kept field uotes of our 

 shooting, entering every breed * of game killed and the 

 number of shots fired each day out. Among the entries 

 we kept two columns for partridges, one of which we 

 headed "Gray partridges," to indicate a bird which we 

 regarded as different from the common sort, being harder 

 to kill and we believed better flavored. 



The description by Dr- Taylor, given above, corre- 

 sponds to my recollection of the description, resort and 

 habits of what my brother and myself called "gray 

 partridges." We generally found this variety feeding 

 on small acorns. I have long been of the opinion that 

 this is a rare variety. I am very sure that no professional 

 ornithologist has examined this matter on the spot. I 

 doubt whether a professional ornithologist has ever been 

 in Loudoun county, and this lack of field work by 

 scientists applies to nearly the whole of Virginia and 

 other Southern States. Such a question as this cannot 

 be decided upon such bird skins as may have found their 

 way to the Smithsonian Institute. 



Your journal has many readers in Virginia and other 

 parts of the South who may throw light upon the matter 

 and, perhaps, secure specimens of supposed variety. Or 

 the new Sportsmen's Association of Virginia, of which 

 my friend, Hon. Jno. G. Wise, is president, may solve 

 the question if they have a committee on habits of 

 species, as I suppose they have or will have. 



M. G. Ellzey, M.D. 



Washington, D. C. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In your last issue you take issue with me on the 

 two varieties of quail in Georgia, and offer to name one 

 species for your correspondent if I show- them up. I am 

 not the discoverer of these two varieties, as they were 

 here before I ever fired a gun at the noble game bird, but 

 I wiil accept your offer, and send them next season, as 

 our season was out on the 10th inst. I will endeavor to 

 send you a pah each of the swamp and highland birds. 



Augusta, Ga. J- W\ 



Hairless Squirrels. — I read with interest the remarks 

 of the recent correspondents concerning the different de- 

 gree of albinism, which their squirrel specimens have ex- 

 hibited and now wish to claim the most perfect specimen 



