WHITE-THROATED SPARROW 
By T. GILBERT PEARSON 
The National Association of Audubon Societies 
Educational Leaflet No. 92 
It is in autumn, when the hills take on their dresses of red and gold 
and the fields stretch away brown and deserted to the blue haze hang- 
ing along the horizon, that I go in quest of the White-throated Spar- 
rows. They are not to be found in the deep woods, nor often on the 
open meadows, but it is in the hedge-rows among the briars of the old 
fence-corners, or in the thickets on the edge of the forest that one will 
discover them. When you find one Whitethroat you 
are pretty sure to> find several others. Very often Haunts 
they are with Juncos, and sometimes a few Song 
Sparrows are found feeding in their company. There are usually at 
least a dozen in a flock, and sometimes fifty or a hundred birds will be 
found together, at least half of which are Whitethroats. 
This bird was a favorite with Audubon, and his account of its be- 
havior in the autumn days gives one a splendid idea of the White- 
throat’s manner of life at this season: 
“How it comes and how it departs are quite unknown to me. I can 
only say that, all of a sudden, the edges of the fields, bordering on 
creeks or swampy places, and overgrown with different species of vines, 
sumac bushes, briers, and the taller kinds of grasses, appear covered 
with these birds. They form groups, sometimes containing thirty to 
fifty individuals, and live together in harmony. They are constantly 
moving up and down among these recesses, with frequent jerkings of 
the tail, and uttering a note common to the tribe. From the hedges and 
thickets they issue one by one, in quick succession, and ramble to the 
distance of eight or ten yards, hopping and scratch- 
ing, in quest of small seeds, and preserving the 
utmost silence. Whenever the least noise is heard, 
or alarm given, and frequently, as I thought, without any alarm at all, 
they all fly back to their covert, pushing directly into the thickest part 
of it. 
“A moment elapses, when they become reassured, and, ascending 
to the highest branches and twigs, open a little concert, which, although 
of short duration, is extremely sweet. There is much plaintive soft- 
ness in their note, which I wish, kind reader, I could describe to you ; 
but this is impossible, although it is yet ringing in my ear, as if I were 
in those very fields where I have so often listened to> it with delight. 
“No sooner is their music over than they return to the field, and thus 
continue alternately sallying forth and retreating during the greater part 
of the day. At the approach of night they utter a sharper and shriller 
Audubon’s 
Experience 
