Chapter V: Part 5

326, ♂ ad., Tucson, May 4. Length, 4.30; extent, 7; wing, 2.20; tail,
1.93.

340, ♂ ad., Tucson, May 7. Length, 4.40; extent, 7; wing, 2.21; tail,
1.93.

410, ♂ ad., Santa Rita Mountains, May 19. Length, 4.10; extent, 6.90;
wing, 2.22; tail, 1.82.

516, ♂ ad., Tucson, June 10. Length, 4.30; extent, 7; wing, 2.12;
tail, 1.85.

524, ♂ juv., first plumage, Tucson, June 11. “Taken from nest, which
also contained a young _Molothrus ater obscurus_.”

197, ♀ ad., Cienega Station, April 15. Length, 4.10; extent, 6.40;
wing, 2.12; tail, 1.78. “Iris dark brown; bill black above, bluish
beneath; legs black.”

206, ♀ ad., Cienega Station, April 16. Length, 4.40; extent, 6.50;
wing, 2.17; tail, 1.80.

208, ♀ ad., Cienega Station, April 16. Length, 4.20; extent, 6.60;
wing, 2.09; tail, 1.82.

217, ♀ ad., Cienega Station, April 17. Length, 4.30; extent, 6.70;
wing, 2.21; tail, 1.84.

218, ♀ ad., Cienega Station, April 17. Length, 4.10; extent, 6.60;
wing, 2.10; tail, 1.85.

228, ♀ ad., Tucson, April 19. Length, 4.30; extent, 6.70; wing, 2.10;
tail, 1.85.

230, ♀ ad., Tucson, April 19. Length, 4.30; extent, 6.70; wing, 2.07;
tail, 1.84.

256, ♀ ad., Tucson, April 21. Length, 4.20; extent, 6.60.

260, ♀ ad., Tucson. April 22. Length, 4.30; extent, 6.60; wing, 2.08;
tail, 1.85.

261, ♀ ad., Tucson, April 22. Length, 4.30; extent, 6.70; wing, 2.25;
tail, 1.92.

279, ♀ ad., Tucson, April 25. Length, 4.30; extent, 6.70; wing, 2.10;
tail, 1.82. “About to lay.”

433, ♀ ad., Tucson, May 25. Length, 4.50; extent, 6.50. “With nest and
three eggs; set completed.”

449, ♀ ad., Tucson, May 29. Length, 4.40; extent, 6.90; wing, 2.11;
tail, 1.77. “With nest and three eggs; set completed.”

439, ♀ juv., first plumage, Tucson, May 26. Nearly feathered, but
unable to fly. “Taken from a deserted nest of _Auriparus flaviceps_.”

471, ♀ juv., first plumage, Camp Lowell, June 1. Length, 4.20; extent,
6.60; wing, 2.10; tail, 1.71. Fully feathered.

32. =Helminthophila celata lutescens= _Ridgw._ WESTERN ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER.—A few were seen late in April near Tucson.

Although not perfectly typical of _lutescens_, both of the Orange-crowned Warblers obtained by Mr. Stephens are clearly referable to that race. They are not quite as yellow beneath as Nicasio (California) specimens, but they come within a shade of it, and are brighter by many shades than any of the same sex among my eastern examples; while in the vividness of the olive-green on the upper parts, they fully equal any of the California females. The supposed difference in the tail markings of these races does not hold in the series before me, for a male from Nicasio has the edging on the inner webs of the rectrices quite as broad and pure as that of any of the Florida ones. The loss of this character, however, would be of little consequence, as the two forms could be readily separated by the wide difference in their general coloring. Mr. Henshaw considers his Arizona specimens true _celata_, and _lutescens_ is now for the first time announced from that Territory.

290, ♀ ad., Tucson, April 26. Length, 5; extent, 7.30; wing, 2.45; tail, 2.10. “Iris dark brown; bill black, lighter at base below; legs dark brown. Not common.”

291, ♀ ad., same locality and date. Length, 4.70; extent, 7.10; wing, 2.37; tail, 2.09. Same remarks.

(_To be continued._)

NOTES ON THE OS PROMINENS.[47]

BY FREDERIC A. LUCAS.

My attention was first directed to this bone by Dr. Shufeldt’s article in this Bulletin for October, 1881, and subsequently by Mr. Jeffries’ paper in the number for January, 1882. With the view of ascertaining in what birds the os prominens is present, and what is its use, I have since examined quite an extensive series of birds. Lack of time has prevented as extended an examination as could be wished for; and as regards discovering any special use for this sesamoid, it must be confessed that the results of the investigation are not wholly satisfactory, being rather negative than positive in their character. But such as they are, they are submitted, in the hope that they may prove of service to some better skilled physiologist.

Through a lack of good material Dr. Shufeldt failed to discover the existence of the os prominens in any of the Owls, but it would seem to be specially characteristic of the _Bubonidæ_, since it is present in one particular shape, and with a constant mode of articulation, in the following species of that family: _Ketupa ceylonensis_, _K. javanensis_, _Bubo ignavus_, _B. bengalensis_, _B. virginianus_, _Scops brasilianus_, _S. asio_, _Nyctea scandiaca_, _Ninox albigulare_, _Asio otus_, _Syrnium nebulosum_, and _S. uralense_. It is not present in _Strix flammea_ or _S. perlata_, and should it prove to be present in other genera of the _Bubonidæ_ than those noted above, it may serve as an additional, though trivial, point of distinction between the families _Bubonidæ_ and _Strigidæ_.

Left wing of _Bubo virginianus_, from below (reduced one third).
_r_, radius; _u_, ulna; _c_, cuneiform; _s_, scapho-lunar; _os p_,
os prominens; _epa_, tendon of extensor patagii longus.
]

The accompanying cut, drawn from a fresh specimen of _B. virginianus_, explains the form and position of the os prominens.

It will be noticed that it is situated on the anterior surface of the distal end of the radius, and runs almost parallel with that bone, instead of standing erect as in the _Falconidæ_. The radial portion of the tensor patagii longus terminates in the os prominens, and is not continued to the first metacarpal.

Apart from the Owls above noted, this bone has been found in _Otogyps calvus_, _Heterospizias meridionalis_, _Buteo melanoleucus_, _B. pennsylvanicus_, _B. lineatus_, _Circus gouldi_, _Asturina pucherani_, and _Haliæetus albicilla_.

A. Os prominens of _Otogyps calvus_, full size.
B. Os prominens of _Bubo virginianus_, seen from above to show
articulation with radius, full size.
]

It is absent in _Polyborus tharus_, _Milvago chimango_, and the following peculiar forms which were examined to see if they would throw any light upon the subject: _Nyctibius_, _Strigops_, _Nestor_, _Megapodius_, _Ocydromus_, and _Atagen_. Neither was any trace of it to be found in two specimens of _Pandion haliæetus_ from N. Africa and the Duke of York group. Dr. Shufeldt’s theory that the os prominens is for the purpose of extending the wing area struck me, as it did Mr. Jeffries, as being untenable, from the fact that the increase of surface thus obtained was too slight to be of any value.[48]

The first proposition of Mr. Jeffries’ summary is that the bone serves to keep the friction of the extensor patagii longus from the carpus. Were this the case it ought surely to be present in the Albatross and Gull, birds which in a fresh breeze are continually flexing and extending their wings according to the direction of their flight and the varying force of the wind. But in both these birds the os prominens is absent,[49] and moreover, as we see in the Owls, it may be so situated as not to prevent the friction of the ulnar portion of the tendon. Second, that it serves only to a limited extent to increase the power of the extensor patagii longus to abduct the thumb, is shown by the fact that in the majority of cases that tendon is inserted in the first metacarpal. The exceptions to this, so far observed by me, are in _Otogyps calvus_ and _Haliæetus albicilla_, where there is a strong tendon running from the os prominens to the first phalanx of the thumb. The third proposition has already been considered, and the fourth (that it protects the carpus) must be rejected, both for the reason given by Mr. Jeffries, and because as we see it in Owls it frequently does not lie over the carpus at all. Only in _Otogyps calvus_ does the os prominens seem to exist as a simple sesamoid, and in that bird it is imbedded in the tendon of the extensor patagii longus, and glides over the scapho-lunar. Were I to venture a suggestion it would be that by its serving as a point of attachment for the tensor patagii longus, that tendon is freed from all duties save that of “puckering up” the anterior margin of the wing; but, as stated before, that theory is by no means entirely satisfactory to me.

A LIST OF BIRDS FROM THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI VALLEY, OBSERVED DURING THE
SUMMER OF 1881, WITH BRIEF NOTES.

BY O. P. HAY.

During the summer of 1881 the writer and two companions spent a little more than a month in the South, especially in the State of Mississippi, travelling and studying its zoölogy. Our primary object was to collect fresh water fishes; and to this we devoted the greater part of our time and efforts. Incidentally, however, we collected and made observations on other animals. Hence this list of birds and the few notes concerning them. I did not intend to publish this list until I had opportunity to make additions to it; but the recent publication by Dr. F. W. Langdon of his field notes on birds observed by him, early in the spring, at a point a little farther south, has made it seem proper that I should contribute my little toward making known the ornithology of this region.

Our observations and collections were made of course under difficulties, and no attempt was made to secure nests and eggs, or, in any special manner, notes on the breeding habits of birds. Still, on account of the season when our trip was made, this list may be of some value as indicating that the birds observed are summer residents. The number of species recorded is not large, but I include only birds that I am reasonably sure were seen. In nearly all cases the birds were shot, and identified by means of descriptions. Others were seen, but as they were not identified with certainty, they are not included in the list.

The birds noted as found at Memphis, Tenn., were really seen in Arkansas just across the river from Memphis. Most of our other notes were obtained at Vicksburg and Jackson, Miss.

The nomenclature adopted is that of Mr. Robert Ridgway, issued by the U. S. National Museum, 1881.

1. =Hylocichla mustelina= (_Gmel._) _Baird_. WOOD THRUSH.—This species
was seen and specimens were shot at Memphis and at Vicksburg. Its song
was frequently heard; and it would appear to be quite common.

2. =Mimus polyglottus= (_Linn._) _Boie_. MOCKINGBIRD.—Very abundant at
all points visited. At the time we were at Vicksburg, July 1, the
young had not yet left the nest, as negro boys were offering them
captured in their nests for sale. In the “History of N. A. Birds” Dr.
Brewer has stated that the Mockingbird in the South nests early in
April, and that the young birds appear a month later. If this is the
case these birds must remain in the nest six weeks or two months. I
was informed that a law in Mississippi prohibits the keeping of these
birds in confinement.

3. =Galeoscoptes carolinensis= (_Linn._) _Caban._ CATBIRD.—This bird
was quite common at Memphis. I did not note it at any point farther
south.

4. =Harporhynchus rufus= (_Linn._) _Caban._ BROWN THRUSH.—A single
specimen seen at Jackson.

5. =Sialia sialis= (_Linn._) _Haldem._ BLUEBIRD.—Seen in considerable
numbers at Memphis, Vicksburg, and Jackson.

6. =Lophophanes bicolor= (_Linn._) _Bonap._ TUFTED TITMOUSE.—Specimens
of this species were obtained at Memphis and at Jackson. It may be
worth noting here that it occurs as far north as Indianapolis, and I
have seen it here during the present winter.

7. =Parus carolinensis= _Aud._ CAROLINA CHICKADEE.—Seen only at
Memphis.

8. =Thryothorus ludovicianus= (_Gm._) _Bonap._ CAROLINA WREN.—We
observed this active bird at Memphis and at Jackson, at both of which
places it appeared to be very abundant.

9. =Mniotilta varia= (_Linn._) _Vieill._ BLACK-AND-WHITE
CREEPER.—Observed at Memphis and Jackson. It will probably be found to
breed at both these points.

10. =Protonotaria citrea= (_Bodd._) _Baird_. PROTHONOTARY
WARBLER.—Specimens of this species were shot at Memphis, and others
were seen at Jackson.

11. =Parula americana= (_Linn._) _Bp._ BLUE YELLOW-BACKED
WARBLER.—This was found to be one of the most common of the smaller
birds at Memphis, Vicksburg, and Jackson. We were constantly shooting
them while hunting for other species. In the “History of N. A. Birds”
it is said to be nowhere abundant; but a day’s hunt in the Mississippi
lowlands would, I think, convince any ornithologist that this is an
error. I have no doubt whatever that it breeds all through the South,
although we found no nests. Audubon was probably correct in saying
that it breeds in Louisiana, however much he may have erred in regard
to the structure of the nest.

12. =Oporornis formosa= (_Wils._) _Baird_. KENTUCKY WARBLER.—This
sprightly little bird was observed, and specimens were handled, at
both Vicksburg and Jackson.

13. =Geothlypis trichas= (_Linn._) _Caban._ MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT.—A
specimen was shot at Memphis; others were seen.

14. =Myiodioctes mitratus= (_Gmel._) _Aud._ HOODED WARBLER.—Specimens,
male and female, of this bird were obtained at Jackson. It appeared to
be moderately common.

15. =Setophaga ruticilla= (_Linn._) _Swains._ AMERICAN
REDSTART.—During our stay at Hopefind, Ark., opposite Memphis, a
number of specimens of the Redstart were seen. Afterwards, while at
Jackson, about July 10, a male and a female were killed. Their
presence so far south at this season, and in such numbers, would
indicate that they breed here. Up to this time I am not aware that it
is known to breed south of the Potomac River and Illinois. The finding
of the nest and eggs in Mississippi may be expected.

16. =Vireosylvia olivacea= (_Linn._) _Bonap._ RED-EYED VIREO.—Very
abundant at all the stations visited. Its clear, musical notes could
be heard everywhere in the deep forests. A specimen was shot at
Vicksburg, which had apparently just become fledged. Memphis,
Vicksburg, Jackson.

17. =Vireo noveboracensis= (_Gmel._) _Bonap._ WHITE-EYED
VIREO.—Specimens of this Vireo were obtained at Memphis and at
Jackson.

18. =Lanius ludovicianus= _Linn._ LOGGERHEAD SHRIKE.—A specimen of
Shrike was seen at Jackson; but, as it was not shot, I am unable to
say whether it belongs to this variety or to _excubitorides_.

19. =Progne subis= (_Linn._) _Baird_. PURPLE MARTIN.—Common about
Vicksburg.

20. =Hirundo erythrogastra= _Bodd._ BARN SWALLOW.—This species was
observed to be quite common about Jackson together with the next.

21. =Tachycineta bicolor= (_Vieill._) _Caban._ WHITE-BELLIED
SWALLOW.—Seen flying about the outskirts of Jackson.

22. =Cotile riparia= (_Linn._) _Boie_. BANK SWALLOW.—Seen at various
points along the Mississippi River near Memphis.

23. =Pyranga æstiva= (_Linn._) _Vieill._ SUMMER REDBIRD.—A male of
this species was shot at Memphis, another at Vicksburg, and a male and
a female at Jackson. It is apparently a very common bird.

24. =Spizella pusilla= (_Wils._) _Bonap._ FIELD SPARROW.—A single
specimen of this species was shot at Jackson. Its occurrence there at
that season was hardly to be expected. This individual may have been
left behind in its winter quarters by its migrating comrades; or it
may be that the species will be found to breed even as far south as
Jackson.

25. =Cardinalis virginianus= (_Briss._) _Bonap._ CARDINAL
GROSBEAK.—One of the most conspicuous birds at every point visited.

26. =Passerina cyanea= (_Linn._) _Gray._ INDIGO BUNTING.—The Indigo
Bird was observed at Memphis, and again at Jackson.

27. =Passerina ciris= (_Linn._) _Gray._ PAINTED BUNTING.—This
beautiful bird was seen at the crossing of the Vicksburg and Meridian
R. R. over the big Black River, and again at Jackson. Females were
shot at both places, but the males eluded capture. They seem to be
quite common.

28. =Spiza americana= (_Gm._) _Bonap._ BLACK-THROATED BUNTING.—Seen in
the lowlands along the river in Louisiana opposite Vicksburg.

29. =Agelæus phœniceus= (_Linn._) _Vieill._ RED-WING BLACKBIRD.—Very
abundant in the swamps in the vicinity of Vicksburg.

30. =Sturnella magna= (_Linn._) _Swains._ MEADOW LARK.—Not many were
seen. One specimen at Vicksburg, and another along the railway while
_en route_ to Jackson.

31. =Icterus spurius= (_Linn._) _Bonap._ ORCHARD ORIOLE.—Many of these
were observed, and some shot, in Louisiana opposite Vicksburg.

32. =Icterus galbula= (_Linn._) _Coues_. BALTIMORE ORIOLE.—Quite
common at Memphis and at Vicksburg.

33. =Quiscalus purpureus= (_Bartr._) _Licht._ PURPLE GRACKLE.—Common
at Memphis and at Vicksburg.

34. =Corvus frugivorus= _Bartr._ COMMON CROW.—Seen at Memphis,
Vicksburg, and at several intermediate points along the river.

35. =Cyanocitta cristata= (_Linn._) _Strickl._ BLUE JAY.—A common bird
at Memphis and Vicksburg.

36. =Tyrannus carolinensis= (_Linn._) _Temm._ KINGBIRD.—A very common
bird at Memphis and Vicksburg.

37. =Myiarchus crinitus= (_Linn._) _Caban._ GREAT CRESTED
FLYCATCHER.—Seen at all points visited. Apparently more common than at
the North.

38. =Contopus virens= (_Linn._) _Caban._ WOOD PEWEE.—This bird was
found to be quite common at Memphis and at Jackson.

39. =Empidonax acadicus= (_Gmel._) _Baird_. ACADIAN FLYCATCHER.—A
specimen was shot at Jackson.

40. =Trochilus colubris= _Linn._ RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD.—A single
specimen was shot at Vicksburg.

41. =Chætura pelasgica= (_Linn._) _Baird_. CHIMNEY SWIFT.—Seen flying
about at Jackson.

42. =Chordeiles popetue= (_Vieill._) _Baird_. NIGHT HAWK.—Observed at
Jackson.

43. =Campephilus principalis= (_Linn._) _Gray._ IVORY-BILLED
WOODPECKER.—No specimens of this species were seen, but their
existence in the denser and less frequented forests in the
neighborhood of Vicksburg and at other points, was confirmed by
hunters and trappers. It is possible that the bird referred to here is
the Logcock (_Hylotomus pileatus_), but as special mention was made by
my informant, a professional hunter, of the white bill, I think the
Ivory-billed Woodpecker must have been seen. Doubtless the other bird
also occurs.

44. =Picus pubescens= _Linn._ DOWNY WOODPECKER.—A single individual of
this species was obtained at Vicksburg.

45. =Melanerpes erythrocephalus= (_Linn._) _Sw._ RED-HEADED
WOODPECKER.—This Woodpecker is apparently not so common as at the
North, but it was observed at Memphis, Vicksburg, and Jackson.

46. =Colaptes auratus= (_Linn._) _Sw._ YELLOW-SHAFTED FLICKER.—A not
uncommon bird about Vicksburg.

47. =Ceryle alcyon= (_Linn._) _Boie_. BELTED KINGFISHER.—Quite common.
Seen at Memphis and Vicksburg and intermediate points along the river.

48. =Coccyzus americanus= (_Linn._) _Bonap._ YELLOW-BILLED
CUCKOO.—Apparently common. A specimen was secured at Vicksburg.

49. =Conurus carolinensis= (_Linn._) _Kuhl._ CAROLINA PARAKEET.—None
were seen by ourselves. Inquiry concerning this rapidly disappearing
species was made of various persons, and especially of hunters. It is
still occasionally seen; but, for the most part, it maintains itself
in the dense cane-brakes and forests, away from contact with man. I
heard of its having been seen recently along the Mississippi River,
about half-way down the state of Mississippi; also that it had been
seen in southeastern Arkansas. A gentleman in Jackson stated that he
had, within a year or two, seen a flock of Parakeets pass over that
city. These items, together with the information obtained by Dr. F. W.
Langdon, communicated in his recent paper, would indicate that this
bird has not yet disappeared from the Mississippi Valley.

50. =Scops asio= (_Linn._) _Bonap._ LITTLE SCREECH OWL.—A single
individual of this species, in the shabbiest of plumage, was shot
along the Big Black River between Vicksburg and Jackson.

51. =Buteo lineatus= (_Gm._) _Jard._ RED-SHOULDERED HAWK.—A specimen
of this hawk was shot and brought to me by a hunter at Jackson.

52. =Cathartes aura= (_Linn._) _Illig._ TURKEY BUZZARD.—A common bird
everywhere. Seen in great numbers at Jackson in company with the next.

53. =Catharista atrata= (_Wils._) _Less._ CARRION CROW.—Not observed
at any place but Jackson, although doubtless common everywhere.
Readily distinguished from the Turkey Buzzard by its smaller size and
its manner of flight.

54. =Zenaidura carolinensis= (_Linn._) _Bonap._ MOURNING DOVE.—Common
everywhere. Memphis, Vicksburg, Jackson.

55. =Meleagris gallopavo americana= (_Bartr._) _Coues_. WILD
TURKEY.—None were seen, but hunters stated that they were quite
abundant, even in the immediate vicinity of the city of Jackson. In
the spring of 1880 I saw a fine gobbler that had been shot by a party
of hunters in the pine woods of Kemper County, near the eastern border
of the State.

56. =Ortyx virginiana= (_Linn._) _Bonap._ BOB WHITE.—The call notes of
these birds were frequently heard as we passed down the river. At
Vicksburg they appeared to be abundant in the bottom lands. We were
extremely sorry that we could procure none of their skins.

57. =Ardea herodias= _Linn._ GREAT BLUE HERON.—Several of these birds
were seen flying about in the swamps near Vicksburg.

58. =Herodias alba egretta= (_Gmel._) _Ridgw._ AMERICAN EGRET.—A
number of this snow-white species were observed in the swamps across
the “lake” from Vicksburg. One was shot, and was found to have the
long dorsal train of plumes.

59. =Oxyechus vociferus= (_Linn._) _Reich._ KILLDEER.—Observed only at
Vicksburg. Will probably be found to breed here.

60. =Philohela minor= (_Gmel._) _Gray._ AMERICAN WOODCOCK.—One
specimen was shot at Vicksburg.

61. =Sterna antillarum= (_Less._) _Coues_. LEAST TERN.—This beautiful
little Tern was very abundant on a sandy point across the “lake,” or
old bend of the river, opposite Vicksburg. We were told that these
birds lay their eggs on the bare sand, and that these eggs hatch in an
extraordinarily short time.

IMPRESSIONS OF SOME SOUTHERN BIRDS.

BY WILLIAM BREWSTER.

Looking back on my first winter in the South I can recall no pleasanter experience than that of a stay of some four weeks at St. Mary’s, a town situated on the very border line of Southern Georgia. This place was then scarcely known to Northerners, although the crowded Florida steamers, on their way across Cumberland Sound, passed within sight of it and occasionally even touched at its wharf for some chance freight or a supply of fuel. But the village still retained a primitive quiet and simplicity that was all the more restful from its contrast with the bustling world outside. Now there are rumors of a railroad and daily trains from Savannah, with all the accompanying desecrations. It is a pity that the march of modern improvements cannot spare a few such peaceful spots, but the “levelling process” seems universal and inevitable.

A Northerner passing his first spring in the South will miss the marked distinction between the seasons upon which he has been accustomed to rely. The vegetation does indeed take a partial rest during the winter months, but it is checked rather than suppressed, and the reign of summer begins without that interval of preparation which we call spring. Most of the trees are evergreen, but some of them, curiously enough, assume bright autumn tints and cast their leaves in April. This at least is true of the live-oaks and magnolias: during my stay at St. Mary’s one of the latter, a remarkably fine tree which I often passed in my daily walks, was at one time nearly denuded, while the ground beneath was strewn with scarlet and orange-tinted leaves.

By the middle of April the fields and forests wore that mature appearance which we associate with August and early September. At noonday cicadas shrilled in the sultry woods, and crickets chirped all night long in the shrubbery about the house. Yet few birds had begun to nest, and many of the northern ones still lingered. I saw Yellow-rumped Warblers, Blue Yellow-backed Warblers and Cedar Birds nearly to the end of April, and a White-throated Sparrow as late as May 2. Many of the Blue Yellow-backed Warblers remained to breed, or rather _were breeding_, for long before this (on April 9) I had found a nearly finished nest. The local birds, however, did not mingle with the strangers, the former being found in pairs, and only where the trees were hung with Spanish moss; while the latter occurred in all kinds of timber, and in flocks made up largely of Redstarts, Kinglets, Black-poll Warblers and other northern species. The same was true of the Catbirds, Brown Thrushes, Pine Warblers, Towhees and several others. It was especially marked in the case of the Towhees, for the resident individuals belonged to a different and readily recognizable race.

One needed but to pass the boundaries of St. Mary’s to be fairly in the country, for the village had not then overflowed its limits, and the few outlying plantations were scarcely less wild and unkempt than the woods which surrounded them. One of my favorite haunts was the “Bay-gall” (I could never learn the origin of this name), a tract of swampy forest less than a quarter of a mile distant from the house at which we were staying. This place was sure to be alive with birds, and I rarely entered it without making some pleasing discovery. My first visit was on April 6, the day after our arrival. As I approached the woods a Red-bellied Woodpecker started from a solitary tree within a few feet of my head, and alighting at the base of one near by scrambled hurriedly up, dislodging the scales of loose bark in his ascent. He was immediately joined by his mate and the two began a game of hide-and-seek around the trunk and among the branches, uttering a rolling _wor’r’r’roo_ very like that of a Flicker.

Forcing my way through the brambly outskirts, I entered the swamp and paused a moment to look around. Grand old wateroaks and sweet-gums thickly hung with Spanish moss cast a dense shade over the ground beneath, and the few sunbeams that struggled through flickered in the gloom like dying torches. There was little undergrowth, and the eye could penetrate far in every direction. In the branches above Blue Yellow-backed Warblers were singing incessantly, and occasionally the note of a Great-crested Flycatcher echoed sharply among the trees. There were other sounds; the rolling tapping of Woodpeckers, the shrill cry of the Blue Jay; and, from the clearing outside, pleasantly softened by distance, the songs of Mockingbirds and Cardinal Grosbeaks.

Passing deeper into the forest I came to an opening where the morning sun lay warm on a thicket of bushes that surrounded a shallow pool. Here I found an interesting little company of tired migrants resting after the fatigues of their last night’s journey and preparing for that still before them. There were six or eight Hooded Warblers, all males in full spring livery, a number of Worm-eating Warblers, a female Prothonotary Warbler, and several Ruby-crowned Kinglets and Redstarts. All were busily engaged in catching insects, but occasionally one of them would pause to sing a few notes in a listless undertone. The Prothonotary was the first that I had ever met with, and it was the only one that I saw at St. Mary’s. The Hooded and Worm-eating Warblers were common for a week or more afterwards, when all departed for some more northern breeding-ground.

During subsequent visits to the “Bay-gall” I met many interesting birds, several of which were new to me. Occasionally I would startle a Chuck-will’s-widow from its noonday slumbers on some mossy knoll, and if a chance shot through the leaves succeeded in stopping its erratic, bat-like flight, there was the pleasure of smoothing its soft plumage and admiring the rich brown coloring before consigning the bird to the paper wrapper that formed its temporary tomb. I believe I never shot one without indulging myself in this way. There is much to be learned, too, from the examination of a freshly-killed bird. For instance, I had never known the wonderful beauty of this Goat-sucker’s eye until I held the bird in my hand, and the size of its mouth would hardly be suspected from the examination of a dried skin.

On April 17 the Acadian Flycatchers arrived. I was first made aware of their presence by their emphatic _queep’ éep_ which so closely resembled that of Traill’s Flycatcher that I immediately suspected the identity of the singers, although it was some time before I could get a sight at one. They had another note also which was much like the whistling of wings. I afterwards satisfied myself that this sound was a vocal one.

I never left the “Bay-gall” without reluctance in the days when I was perhaps the only invader of its secret recesses; and now, in recalling it, the feeling is scarcely less strong. But the country about St. Mary’s held other attractions which must not be neglected. The open space surrounding the town was bordered on the north by a pine forest that stretched an indefinite number of miles into the interior, and my walks often tended in this direction. Following some grass-grown road that wandered aimlessly among the trees, I often paused to watch the gambols of the Brown-headed Nuthatches which fairly swarmed in these woods. They are exceedingly social little birds, and it was no uncommon thing, even in the middle of their breeding season, to see five or six rollicking together. In their motions they closely resemble _Sitta canadensis_, and they have the same habit of exploring the ends of the pine branches and hanging head downward, like Titmice, among the tufts of pine needles. But they are decidedly more active, and their notes are shriller, more varied and altogether unlike those of either the Red or White-bellied species. _Whick-whick-whee’e’e’ whick-whicker-whicker_ is the usual utterance, but when several come together their shrill excited piping altogether baffles description. These little companies were by no means wholly composed of Nuthatches, but usually included a more or less numerous escort of Pine Warblers, Bluebirds, Titmice and Woodpeckers. As the motley troop rambled through the woods, its members were continually chasing one another from tree to tree, chirping, calling and singing as their various moods dictated. I noticed that the Bluebirds usually led the van, while the Woodpeckers invariably brought up the rear.

Unlike the Red-bellied, Downy, Hairy and Golden-winged species, which inhabited all sorts of timber, the Red-cockaded Woodpecker was exclusively a bird of the pines. It was not common about St. Mary’s and I had difficulty in getting as many specimens as I wanted. Its notes to my ear almost exactly resembled those of _Sitta pusilla_. On the 1st of May I started a female from her nesting-hole, which was about thirty feet above the ground in a large and apparently perfectly sound pine. I was unable to climb the tree but the bird acted as if her eggs had already been laid.

The pine lands of the South have an open park-like character that is a continual surprise to one accustomed only to New England forests. The trees rarely stand in close proximity to one another, and they are often so widely scattered that the general effect is that of an opening rather than a forest. Unless a hummock interrupts the view, the eye may sometimes roam for half a mile in every direction over a perfectly level plain, interspersed with occasional trees whose tufted heads throw waving shadows upon the bright green beds of saw-palmetto that cover most of the ground beneath. Were it not for the half-wild cattle that range at will through the country, the palmetto would probably usurp every inch of ground; but these creatures keep it within reasonable limits, and many spaces of closely cropped grass and stunted blueberries intervene. About such places I used to find the Bachman’s Finch, a retiring little bird which might easily be overlooked by one unacquainted with its habit of skulking among the herbage and lying concealed until nearly trodden on. But no one with the slightest ear for bird music can long remain in ignorance of its presence after the breeding season has set in, for the male possesses vocal powers of a very rare order. His song is a prolonged, leisurely chant composed of several distinct bars or sets of notes, with brief pauses between, as if the bird stopped to take breath. The final notes of each bar have sometimes a rising, sometimes a falling, inflection, and the tone is varied in the most subtle manner. Now it has a full bell-like ring that seems to fill the air around; next it is soft and low and inexpressibly tender; now it is clear again, but so modulated that the sound seems to come from a great distance. The whole performance is very simple and I hardly know the secret of its charm. To be fully appreciated it should be heard in the soft twilight of an April evening, when the still woods are filled with dusky shadows. At such times it has moved me more deeply than I care to confess.

The male always sings from an elevated perch, usually a dead twig close to the trunk of a southern pine. He sits perfectly motionless and is unaccountably hard to see. I have often stood directly beneath one for several minutes, vainly straining my eyes in the direction from whence the sound came, and perhaps finally discovered him within ten feet of my head in plain view. The ventriloquous character of many of his notes increases this difficulty. If disturbed in the midst of his song, he pitches to the ground beneath and at once seeks shelter in the grass.

Another characteristic inhabitant of these grassy openings was the Meadow Lark. It was much tamer than our northern bird, and its notes had a wild, ringing inflection that harmonized well with the surroundings.

In the thicker groves I often heard the voice of the Summer Tanager (_Pyranga æstiva_). His song is rich, flowing, and not unlike that of the Rose-breasted Grosbeak, although some of its notes recall those of the Robin. The call-note used by both sexes is a peculiar _chuck’l-chuckl’ut_. The bright colors of the male make him a conspicuous object among the branches of the southern pine which, at least in Georgia, is his favorite tree.

The Yellow-throated Warbler also was sure to be met with in these walks. His song to my ear has a far-a-way sound, even when the bird is near at hand. It is simple and monotonous, but nevertheless sweet and plaintive. This bird has all the habits of the Pine Warbler, with which it often associates.

A totally different phase of bird life was presented when, as was often the case, I visited the plantations. The fields themselves rarely offered anything more attractive than Yellow-winged Sparrows, Grass Finches and, late in April, migratory troops of Bobolinks that settled among the last year’s weeds for a moment before resuming their northward journey with rollicking snatches of song. But the fence corners and similar neglected places around the outskirts of the cultivated lands were filled with bushes over which trailed Cherokee roses, trumpet-vines and other luxuriant creepers. In these places I was sure to find Mockingbirds, Cardinals, Catbirds, Brown Thrushes, White-eyed Vireos and the brilliant little Painted Buntings.

Next to the always self-assertive Mockingbird the White-eyed Vireo was perhaps the most conspicuous inhabitant of such thickets. Not that he was often seen, but at almost any time of the day one might hear his emphatic, jerky little strain, coming from half a dozen points at once. I noticed that the note varied considerably from that which we hear in New England, and, moreover, scarcely two of the southern birds sang exactly alike. Some individuals even seemed to have a talent for mimicry. One that I remember imitated the note of the Loggerhead Shrike so closely that I was completely deceived. The nest of this bird is a wonderfully delicate and beautiful structure. One that I got at St. Mary’s contained its complement of four eggs on April 26. I discovered it twelve days previously when the birds were busily employed on the framework. The male took an equal part in this task and it was amusing to see him try to sing with his bill full of moss or bark.

The Painted Buntings or Nonpareils, as they are universally called by the townspeople, arrived April 23 and through the remainder of the month were abundant. I used to find them in flocks about the openings where they spent much of their time on the ground. They were timid rather than shy, flying to the thickets upon the slightest alarm, but when once conscious of being pursued, it was difficult to get a shot at one. The brilliant plumage of the adult male makes him a conspicuous object either on the ground or in green foliage, but it is no easy matter to see one among the flowers of the trumpet-vine where they often seek refuge, apparently fully conscious of the protection afforded by the clusters of scarlet blossoms. The young males during the first year are colored precisely like the females. They sing, and for aught I know, breed, while in this condition. The song is a low, pleasing warble very un-Finch-like in character. I should compare it to that of the Canada Flycatcher, but the notes are less emphatic, though equally disconnected. The bird almost invariably sings in the depths of some thicket, and its voice ceases at the slightest noise. Both sexes have a sharp chirp of alarm which closely resembles that of the Indigo Finch. Most of the Nonpareils left St. Mary’s by May 1, but a few pairs remained up to the time of my departure, when they were apparently preparing to breed. Another familiar inhabitant of these thickets was the Towhee Bunting. Two distinct races of this bird were to be met with during the same walk, but never, so far as my observation went, actually in company. The Red-eyed or northern form, _erythrophthalmus_ proper, apparently occurred only as a winter visitor, while var. _alleni_ represented the resident or local race. The latter was chiefly a bird of the oak scrub, although it was also to be found in open pine woods where it haunted the beds of saw-palmetto. Its note differed widely from that of _erythrophthalmus_; the “_chewink_” was shorter and harsher, and in addition to this cry, both sexes occasionally uttered a sharp, clear whistle that sounded like a sportsman’s call to his dog. I am not sure that I heard the song, or at least identified it. These Towhees were hard to obtain, for they were shy and retiring, rarely venturing far from their secure retreats. The irides of all the specimens that I examined were brownish-yellow or dull, opaque amber; never white, as is said to be the case with examples from Southern Florida.

It would be difficult to find a plantation in the South that did not have one or more pairs of Mockingbirds. About St. Mary’s they were especially abundant, and nowhere more so than in the gardens of the village. Here they were half-domesticated, building their nests in the shrubbery that surrounded the houses, and hopping about, like Robins, upon the grass-plats and gravelled walks. An orange tree directly in front of the windows of my room was appropriated by a remarkably fine singer. There is a noticeable difference in the performances of most males, but the voice of this bird possessed a compass and perfection of tone that I have never heard equalled. His repertoire included the notes of nearly all the birds of the surrounding region besides many of the characteristic village sounds, and most of the imitations were simply perfect. Moreover he was continually adding to his accomplishments. An interesting instance of this occurred one afternoon, when several of us were sitting on the veranda. A Greater Yellow-leg passing over the town was attracted by my answering whistle, and circled several times above the house reiterating his mellow call. The Mockingbird up to this time had been singing almost uninterruptedly, but at the sound of these strange notes he relapsed into silence and retreated into the thickest foliage of his favorite tree; after a while we heard him trying them in an undertone. The first note came pretty readily, but the falling inflection of the succeeding three troubled him. Whenever I ventured to prompt he would listen attentively, and at the next attempt show an evident improvement. Finally he abandoned the task, as we thought in despair, and at sunset that evening for the first and only time during my stay his voice was missing in the general chorus. But at daylight the next morning the garden rang with a perfect imitation of the Yellow-leg’s whistle. He had mastered it during the night, and ever afterwards it was his favorite part. The discomfiture of the rival males in the neighborhood was as amusing as it was unmistakable. Each in turn tried it, but not one of them succeeded.

Another frequenter of the village shrubbery was the Orchard Oriole. His flute-like voice, which bears some resemblance to that of the Fox Sparrow, could be heard almost any time after April 10. Our garden offered especial attractions to these Orioles, for the hedge of wild olive trees that bordered it on two sides was overrun with Cherokee roses and trumpet-vines among which they found a congenial shelter. They were fond, too, of sipping the honey from the trumpet-flowers, and it was no uncommon thing to see half a dozen collected about a single cluster. In this occupation they were almost invariably joined by numerous Hummingbirds;—and such a group, with its setting of green leaves and scarlet and white blossoms, formed the prettiest picture imaginable.

To our garden also came the Blue Jays; bold, familiar birds very different in bearing from the outcast that boys and would-be sportsmen pursue so relentlessly in the northern woods. Everywhere at the South this Jay is as much an inhabitant of the cultivated grounds as of the forests, and if not actually encouraged, it is universally tolerated. In Jacksonville I have heard them screaming among the live-oaks that shade the busiest streets, and at St. Mary’s they were scarcely less tame and confiding than the Mockingbirds.

The average Georgian is indifferent to the shooting of most of the birds that inhabit his plantation; but it is little short of a crime in his eyes to take the life of either a Turkey Buzzard or a Mockingbird. The killing of one of the former is considered an offence against the State, which protects them on account of their services as scavengers. But the Mockingbirds are treasured as personal property, and any interference with them is sure to be promptly resented. The natural result of this sentiment is that both species are universally abundant and familiar. The Buzzards, especially, are ubiquitous. At all hours of the day, in every kind of weather, they float over the cities, villages, plantations, pine woods, hummocks, cypress swamps, salt marshes and even the beaches of the Sea-islands. Go where you will, it is almost impossible to look upward without seeing the picturesque forms drifting about in the sky. Some are soaring almost beyond the reach of human vision. Others at a lower elevation cross and recross each other in interminable mazy lines; while still others glide across the landscape passing just above the tops of the trees. Both species occurred at St. Mary’s, but the Black Vulture was much the less common. It associated freely with the Turkey Buzzards, among which it could be recognized at almost any distance by its different color, shape and manner of flying. The tail is so short as to be altogether out of proportion with the body and wings, while its square tip gives it the appearance of having been cut off. This bird’s flight is heavy, awkward and generally straight forward, although it occasionally soars. The wings are flapped every few seconds in a hurried, nervous manner that seems to betoken a lack of power or confidence. The flight of the Turkey Buzzard, on the contrary, is a picture of repose in motion. The bird rarely moves its wings, save to alter their inclination, and its dark form drifts through miles of space without the slightest perceptible effort. The impression of entire freedom from exertion which its movements convey, is curiously in accord with the general enervating influence of southern life and its surroundings. Its impassive flight may perhaps be regarded as the most characteristic feature of a southern landscape, as it certainly is one of the most attractive. But the observer who would keep this impression untarnished will be wise to refrain from looking too closely into the _useful_ side of the bird’s character.

The Buzzard’s flight will not bear comparison however with that of the Swallow-tailed Kite. The latter is equally easy and graceful of wing, and, in addition, its movements are characterized by a certain dash and energy of purpose that one looks for in vain in the calm, emotionless flight of the Vulture. I hardly know a more attractive sight than that presented by one of these Kites playing about an opening in the woods. For a moment it floats motionless, as if suspended by an invisible wire; the next, it glides close over the ground crossing and recrossing every yard of space. The long, thin wings, firmly set, cleave the air like knife-blades and the forked tail, spread to its fullest, is inclined to one side or the other as the bird changes its swift course. When it turns, the snowy head and breast are contrasted against the green background and its steel blue back glances in the sunlight. Finally rising to a level with the tree-tops it is gone as it came, like a beautiful vision.

But my space is exhausted, although many interesting birds remain to be mentioned. Perhaps at some future time I may take up the threads where this sketch leaves them.

NOTES ON SOME OF THE RARER BIRDS OF SOUTHERN NEW BRUNSWICK.

BY MONTAGUE CHAMBERLAIN.

1. =Sialia sialis.= BLUEBIRD.—About the middle of March, 1877, Mr.
Harold Gilbert saw one at Mount Pleasant, a suburb of St. John. Some
time early in June, 1879, Mr. J. W. Banks saw one at Milledgeville,
with food in its mouth, apparently for its young. On April 26, 1881,
Mr. Henry Gilbert shot one at Rothesay, nine miles north of St. John.

2. =Dendrœca pennsylvanica.= CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER.

3. =Dendrœca castanea.= BAY-BREASTED WARBLER.

4. =Dendrœca blackburnæ.= BLACKBURN’S WARBLER.—These three species are
but rarely found here. In my note-book is a record of one of each
taken during the summer of 1881, and I can learn of none others having
been seen or heard.

5. =Vireo noveboracensis.= WHITE-EYED VIREO.—Mr. Harold Gilbert shot
one specimen of this bird at South Bay, a few miles northwest from St.
John, on May 24, 1877, and this is the only known instance of its
occurrence in this vicinity.

6. =Pyranga rubra.= SCARLET TANAGER.—I saw an adult male of this
species sitting on a fence in the suburbs of St. John on June 20,
1879, and have examined two specimens taken near Hampton during the
summer of 1880.

7. =Ammodromus caudacutus.= SHARP-TAILED FINCH.—On June 21, 1881, five
individuals of this species were taken by Mr. H. A. Purdie, Mr. Fred.
W. Daniel and myself, on a marsh near Hampton. This marsh is watered
by the Kenebecasis, a tributary of the St. John, and lies some
twenty-five miles up the former river. The junction of the two rivers
takes place about five miles from the mouth of the St. John. The marsh
is some twenty miles, air line, from the nearest point on the Bay of
Fundy shore, and at the time we visited it, the water running past it
did not taste in the least brackish.[50]

8. =Pipilo erythrophthalmus.= TOWHEE.—A specimen, now in the
collection of the Natural History Society of St. John, was shot at
Irishtown on May 8, 1881, by Mr. J. Belyea.

9. =Zamelodia ludoviciana.= ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK.—I have examined
the skin of one of this species taken near Hampton in June, 1879.

10. =Passerina cyanea.= INDIGO BUNTING.—There is a skin in the
collection of James McGivern, Esq., said to have been taken about six
miles north of St. John in June, 1880. I can learn of no other
occurrence of this bird near here, though I have frequently seen
specimens taken on the western, or Bay of Fundy shore of Nova Scotia.

11. =Zenaidura carolinensis.= MOURNING DOVE.—This bird has been but
rarely met with here; one taken at Hampton in June, 1880, one at
Rothesay on September 30, 1881, and one at Milkish on October 17,
1881, are the only specimens I have heard of.

12. =Ardetta exilis.= LEAST BITTERN.—Between the spring of 1877 and
the fall of 1880 there were five individuals of this species taken on
the Bay of Fundy shore, about ten miles to the eastward of St. John.

13. =Micropalama himantopus.= STILT SANDPIPER.—The only known
occurrence of this bird in this vicinity is of three seen by Mr. F. W.
Daniel on the sand flats back of St. John on September 8, 1881. He
secured one of them, which is now in the museum of the Natural History
Society.

14. =Recurvirostra americana.= AVOCET.—Mr. William Ellis of St.
Martins, a village on the shore of the Bay of Fundy, says he has shot
one or more of these birds each year for the last five years, usually
meeting two together. A specimen taken by him in 1880 is in the museum
of the Natural History Society.

15. =Himantopus mexicanus.= BLACK-NECKED STILT.—I procured one of this
species in September, 1880, from Mr. John Ellis of Mace’s Bay, an arm
of the Bay of Fundy, lying some thirty miles to the westward of St.
John, and was told by Mr. Ellis that several had been taken there
during former years.

16. =Ionornis martinica.= PURPLE GALLINULE.—Since obtaining the male,
announced by Mr. Wm. Brewster in this Bulletin for July, 1881, I have
had the good fortune to get possession of a female which was shot near
Gagetown, a village on the St. John River, about forty miles from its
mouth. The bird was taken in the early part of September, 1880.

17. =Chen hyperboreus.= SNOW GOOSE.—One of these birds was taken at
Gagetown in December, 1880, and sent by me to Mr. E. O. Damon of
Northampton, Mass.

18. =Anas boscas.= MALLARD.—A pair in the museum of the Natural
History Society were shot near Hampton by the late Col. Otty some
fifteen years ago. The only late occurrences of this species are of
one mounted by J. H. Carnell, taxidermist, and a flock of some six or
eight seen by Mr. Henry Gilbert on the Kenebecasis River in August,
1880, from which he obtained a male and female.

19. =Æthyia vallisneria.= CANVAS-BACK.—Carnell has mounted one of this
species taken within the Province, and E. C. Sutton, Esq., of Sutton,
who is familiar with their appearance, saw a flock on the St. John
River, about four miles from the city, several times during the fall
of 1879.

20. =Pelecanus erythrorhynchus.= AMERICAN WHITE PELICAN.—One of these
birds in the collection of the Natural History Society was shot on the
shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence near Pt. du Chene by Mr. Robert
Bustin, and I have very good authority for announcing the occurrence
of another at Cape Spencer, some five miles east of St. John, during
the first week in April, 1881.

NOTES ON THE SUMMER BIRDS OF THE UPPER ST. JOHN.

BY CHARLES F. BATCHELDER.

During the spring of 1879 Messrs. W. A. Jeffries and J. Amory Jeffries spent some time at Grand Falls, New Brunswick, collecting and studying the birds of that neighborhood; and at about the same time Mr. J. Dwight, Jr., and myself were similarly engaged at Fort Fairfield, Aroostook Co., Maine.

Owing to the limited time of our stay the number of species observed was not large, but as it included almost all the commoner summer residents,—the species really characteristic of the fauna of the region—it has been thought worth while to lay the results of our observations before the public, especially as the fauna is in some respects peculiar. One might be led to expect, from the latitude of the region, that the fauna would be thoroughly Canadian in its character. Our experience shows, however, that it has a strong tinge of the Alleghanian.

Grand Falls is situated on the right bank of the St. John River at about N. Lat. 47° 03′, and W. Long. 67° 50′. The river below the falls runs through a narrow valley, almost all of which is under cultivation. On the higher land above the falls and about the town are farms devoted chiefly to hay, potatoes and buckwheat. The country is hilly, and is scantily watered, the few rapid streams and brooks draining directly into the river. There are no lakes or ponds, except a few insignificant puddles, although there are occasional cedar swamps and “barrens.” The tributary streams below the falls have cut narrow*, steeply walled ravines in their passage to the river. These were cold and damp, and apparently without birds.

In some places forests of hard woods exist, tall maples, elms and birches that have no doubt stood there for ages. There is but little underbrush in these woods, and they have a rather park-like aspect. The second growth and the woods on the low lands along the river consist of firs, spruces and hemlocks of all sizes, and often have an almost impenetrable underbrush. Where fires have spread large tracts are stripped of their woods, and are covered with fallen trunks overgrown with vines, with here and there tall dead “stubs” still standing.

Mr. W. A. Jeffries’ observations extended from May 21 to June 19. He was joined by his brother on the 9th of June. During the ten days following this latter date the weather was cold—there was a frost June 15, and rain fell every day except the 9th and the 15th.