Winter Bird Haunts. 
Through the blackness of the chill autumn 
night there cames down to us from overhead the 
nasal ‘'Her-onk, her-onk,” of the Canada goose, 
and we say the flight is on. As a matter of 
fact, the flight has been on for some weeks, and 
already many thousands of the smaller migrants 
are winging their way hundreds of miles to the 
south. 
Some of these aerial travelers are obliged to 
fly many hundreds, and in some cases thousands 
of miles from their nesting sites, to procure their 
favorite supply of food; others with a more 
varied diet being obliged to travel a lesser dis¬ 
tance. The birds of prey, such as the eagles, 
hawks and owls, together with many of the 
seed and berry eaters, like the grouse, the spar¬ 
rows and jays, rarely migrate further than a 
few miles locally, and then only in extreme 
weather. 
The soft-billed birds or exclusive insect-eat¬ 
ers, as the swallows, warblers, fly-catchers and 
kindred species, are obliged to extend their jour¬ 
neys much further south than the birds able to 
subsist on seeds and berries in addition to the 
insect diet. It is for this reason that some of 
the insect-eaters are compelled to journey as far 
as South America before being assured of an 
unfailing food supply during the winter months. 
When we realize that many of these small 
migrants nest far north of us in the forests of 
Canada and winter in the tropics, we get some 
idea of the extent of these aerial journeyings in 
quest of food. With the smaller varieties of 
birds these migrations are mostly performed dur¬ 
ing the night, when often on clear, still evenings 
we may hear in the darkness the far-away chirps 
and calls of the flocks as they pass overhead. 
These long flights are fraught with many hard¬ 
ships and dangers for the birds, and, ere the 
feathered army reaches its far-distant goal, many 
tiny soldiers fall from the ranks. When we 
consider the tiny ruby-throated hummingbird 
that flutters about our flower gardens in the 
summer months, on wings no larger than those 
of a dragon-fly, spending its winter as far south 
as Central America, then truly does the wonder 
of this annual migration fully dawn on us. 
A careful perusal of the bird directory at 
this season is interesting and instructive, for 
mayhap, when far from home and ourselves in 
a strange domicile, we are overjoj'ed at finding 
a little feathered friend of our garden estab¬ 
lished near us for the winter. 
Among the migrants accomplishing the longest 
journeys in their winter wanderings may be in¬ 
cluded these species, nearly all of which event¬ 
ually reach South America. The bobolink, who 
doffs his black and white plumage of early sum¬ 
mer and dons a somber brown traveling suit. 
After running the gauntlet of thousands of guns, 
which alternately shoot him down, as reedbird 
and ricebird, he finally earns a respite for him¬ 
self in the warm climate of South America. The 
beautiful rose-breasted grosbeak also finds that 
climate congenial. The brilliant scarlet tanager. 
changing his rollicking song of the breeding sea¬ 
son for a simple call note and trading his scar¬ 
let robes for an inconspicuous suit of olive drab, 
makes for the same goal. Nearly all the dif¬ 
ferent varieties of warblers pass the winter 
months in South America. The swallows, de¬ 
spite a supposition current among the ignorant 
and misinformed to the effect that these birds 
hibernate in the mud during the winter months, 
may be found gleaning their insect diet from the 
tropics. So, too, the vireos, who search for in¬ 
sects amid the dense tropical vegetation, while 
the fly-catchers, as the kingbird and the patient 
little wood pewee, go as far as South America. 
The semi-domestic, lovable phoebe of our boy¬ 
hood days halts in our own Southern States, a 
few of the more roving -spirits reaching Cuba 
before making a permanent stop. The erratic 
nighthawk wings his way to the far-off tropics 
as do also the mysterious cuckoos. Among the 
wildfowl the little teal holds the record, this 
variety reaching the warm, sun-bathed waters 
of the South American shores before halting in 
its cannon ball flight southward. 
Among the birds content to stop on reaching 
our Southern States are the vociferous whip¬ 
poorwill which reaches the confines of Florida. 
The ruby-throated hummingbird leaves some of 
its numbers here, others continuing on to Cen¬ 
tral America. The noisy rattle of the belted 
kingfisher may be heard from Virginia south. 
The beautiful killdeer plover wanders from the 
Southern States all the way to South America. 
Most of the wildfowl winter among the bays 
and marshes of the Southern States to the Gulf 
of Mexico. Woodcock and snipe also reach the 
gulf through the Southern States. Orioles reach 
as far south as Central America. Crackles and 
winged blackbirds find the grain fields of the 
Southern States a good place for thieving ex¬ 
peditions and spend the winter there. In the 
same locality may be found catbird, brown 
thrasher, house wren and hermit thrush. The 
two operatic stars of the feathered host find 
the climate of Central America better suited to 
their voices, and accordingly the wood thrush 
and veery thrush spend their winters in that dis¬ 
tant but congenial clime. 
The robin and bluebird, inured to the chill¬ 
ing blasts of early autumns and late springs, 
linger on the extreme border of migration. In 
fact, in many localities they might be classed as 
permanent residents, as their winter range is 
entirely a matter of weather conditions and they 
may be found wintering anywhere from southern 
New York and New Jersey southward. These 
two need but the encouragement of a few days 
of warm sunshine and gentle south winds to 
bring them north into their old haunts, and often 
pay for their temerity with their lives, as a bliz¬ 
zard may descend on them the very night they 
arrive. 
Alost of the woodpeckers are resident in the 
localities they inhabit, with the possible ex¬ 
ception of the extreme northern limit of their 
range. This also holds good of crow, bluejay, 
cedarbird, song sparrow, owls, with the excep¬ 
tion of the great snowy owl, who comes down 
from the Arctic to spend the winter with us, as 
well as the eagles, most of the hawks, nuthatch- 
ers and the sociable and familiar little chicka¬ 
dees. These last are a recognized feature of 
every winter landscape and without their cheer¬ 
ful “day-day-day” greeting us from the bare 
boughs overhead, the winter woods would be 
dreary, indeed. 
Often the summer range of one species serves 
as the winter range for another, and at this sea¬ 
son we have many migrants from the far North 
come down to our borders. Among these feath¬ 
ered pioneers is the cheery'little junco who re¬ 
mains to enliven the snow-covered landscape 
until well on toward spring, when a few days 
prior to his departure north, as if to repay us 
for our hospitality, he favors us with a render¬ 
ing of his exquisite song. At this season the 
great snowy owl is with us and finds rabbits and 
grouse easy prey. The snow bunting comes from 
the North in straggling companies as do the 
tree sparrows or “winter chippies.” Now, too, 
the pert little winter wren makes his annual ap¬ 
pearance about old logs and undergrowth in the 
woods, and the beautiful white-throated spar¬ 
row passes the winter within our borders. 
In the feathered world migration plays a most 
important part in the life of each little songster 
of wood and field. We know the why and 
wherefore of the autumn or southern flight; it 
is entirely a matter of food supply. As for the 
northern or spring flight we can assume no 
logical reason. Why the birds should desert a 
land of plenty and attempt a journey often thou¬ 
sands of miles in extent, often reaching their 
summer homes before the snow and ice of winter 
have released their hold on earth and tree, is at 
present a mystery and perhaps ever will be. 
Without attempting its solution, let us be con¬ 
tent to speed the little travelers on their long 
and hazardous journey in the autumn, and mind 
you, not with the shotgun, but by affording them 
every protection through our district, and then 
what a welcome comes to us with the first 
warble of the returned bluebird from the leafless 
orchard in early spring. 
Elmer Russell Gregor. 
Hawks and Owls. 
OwEGO, N. Y., Jan. 25 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: I do not wish to get into a discussion 
with E. J. B. who writes from Scarborough, N. 
Y.. and suggests that a relentless war be carried 
on against the crow, hawk and owl,‘but I would 
like to make a suggestion to him. Before he 
condemns these birds to the extent of wishing 
their extermination, let him write to the United 
States Department of Agriculture. Biological 
Survey, Washington, D. C., and get a copy of 
the pamphlet about these birds, especially cir¬ 
cular No. 6r, entitled, “Hawks and Owls From 
the Standpoint of the Farmer,” by A. K. Fisher. 
If after a careful study of this circular he is 
not satisfied, let him go afield and from actual 
observation draw conclusions for himself. 
P. S. F.vrxham. 
