Chapter XIX: Part 19

At this moment a rush of wind came down the chimney, blowing the blaze of the fire towards the room. The wife and daughter, imagining for a moment that the woods were again on fire, made for the door, but the husband, explaining the cause of their terror, they resumed their work.

"Poor things," said the lumberer, "I dare say that what I have told you brings sad recollections to the minds of my wife and eldest daughter, who, with myself, had to fly from our home, at the time of the great fires." I felt so interested in his relation of the causes of the burnings, that I asked him to describe to me the particulars of his misfortunes at the time. "If Prudence and Polly," said he, looking towards his wife and daughter, "will promise to sit still, should another puff of smoke come down the chimney, I will do so." The good natured smile with which he accompanied this remark, elicited a return from the women, and he proceeded:—

"It is a difficult thing, Sir, to describe, but I will do my best to make your time pass pleasantly. We were sound asleep one night, in a cabin about a hundred miles from this, when about two hours before day, the snorting of the horses and lowing of the cattle which I had ranging in the woods suddenly wakened us. I took yon rifle, and went to the door to see what beast had caused the hubbub, when I was struck by the glare of light reflected on all the trees before me, as far as I could see through the woods. My horses were leaping about, snorting loudly, and the cattle ran among them with their tails raised straight over their backs. On going to the back of the house, I plainly heard the crackling made by the burning brushwood, and saw the flames coming towards us in a far extended line. I ran to the house, told my wife to dress herself and the child as quickly as possible, and take the little money we had, while I managed to catch and saddle the two best horses. All this was done in a very short time, for I guessed that every moment was precious to us.

"We then mounted, and made off from the fire. My wife, who is an excellent rider, stuck close to me; my daughter, who was then a small child, I took in one arm. When making off as I said, I looked back and saw that the frightful blaze was close upon us, and had already laid hold of the house. By good luck, there was a horn attached to my hunting clothes, and I blew it, to bring after us, if possible, the remainder of my live stock, as well as the dogs. The cattle followed for a while; but, before an hour had elapsed, they all ran as if mad through the woods, and that, Sir, was the last of them. My dogs, too, although at all other times extremely tractable, ran after the deer that in bodies sprung before us, as if fully aware of the death that was so rapidly approaching.

"We heard blasts from the horns of our neighbours, as we proceeded, and knew that they were in the same predicament. Intent on striving to the utmost to preserve our lives, I thought of a large lake, some miles off, which might possibly check the flames; and, urging my wife to whip up her horse, we set off at full speed, making the best way we could over the fallen trees and the brush heaps, which lay like so many articles placed on purpose to keep up the terrific fires that advanced with a broad front upon us.

By this time we could feel the heat; and we were afraid that our horses would drop every instant. A singular kind of breeze was passing over our heads, and the glare of the atmosphere shone over the day light. I was sensible of a slight faintness, and my wife looked pale. The heat had produced such a flush in the child's face, that when she turned towards either of us, our grief and perplexity were greatly increased. Ten miles, you know, are soon gone over on swift horses; but, notwithstanding this, when we reached the borders of the lake, covered with sweat and quite exhausted, our hearts failed us. The heat of the smoke was insufferable, and sheets of blazing fire flew over us in a manner beyond belief. We reached the shores, however, coasted the lake for a while, and got round to the lee side. There we gave up our horses, which we never saw again. Down among the rushes we plunged by the edge of the water, and laid ourselves flat, to wait the chance of escaping from being burnt or devoured. The water refreshed us, and we enjoyed the coolness.

"On went the fire, rushing and crashing through the woods. Such a sight may we never see! The heavens themselves, I thought, were frightened, for all above us was a red glare, mixed with clouds of smoke, rolling and sweeping away. Our bodies were cool enough, but our heads were scorching, and the child, who now seemed to understand the matter, cried so as nearly to break our hearts.

"The day passed on, and we became hungry. Many wild beasts came plunging into the water beside us, and others swam across to our side and stood still. Although faint and weary, I managed to shoot a porcupine, and we all tasted its flesh. The night passed I cannot tell you how. Smouldering fires covered the ground, and the trees stood like pillars of fire, or fell across each other. The stifling and sickening smoke still rushed over us, and the burnt cinders and ashes fell thick about us. How we got through that night I really cannot tell, for about some of it I remember nothing." Here the hunter paused, and took breath. The recital of his adventure seemed to have exhausted him. His wife proposed that we should have a bowl of milk, and the daughter having handed it to us, we each took a draught.

"Now," said he, "I will proceed. Towards morning, although the heat did not abate, the smoke became less, and blasts of fresh air sometimes made their way to us. When morning came, all was calm, but a dismal smoke still filled the air, and the smell seemed worse than ever. We were now cooled enough, and shivered as if in an ague fit; so we removed from the water, and went up to a burning log, where we warmed ourselves. What was to become of us I did hot know. My wife hugged the child to her breast, and wept bitterly; but God had preserved us through the worst of the danger, and the flames had gone past, so I thought it would be both ungrateful to Him, and unmanly to despair now. Hunger once more pressed upon us, but this was easily remedied. Several deer were still standing in the water, up to the head, and I shot one of them. Some of its flesh was soon roasted; and, after eating it, we felt wonderfully strengthened.

"By this time the blaze of the fire was beyond our sight, although the ground was still burning in many places, and it was dangerous to go among the burnt trees. After resting a while, and trimming ourselves, we prepared to commence our march. Taking up the child, I led the way over the hot ground and rocks; and, after two weary days and nights, during which we shifted in the best manner we could, we at last reached the "hard woods," which had been free of the fire. Soon after we came to a house, where we were kindly treated for a while. Since then, Sir, I have worked hard and constantly as a lumberer; but, thanks be to God, here we are safe, sound, and happy!"

THE BARN OWL.

_STRIX FLAMMEA_, LINN.

PLATE CLXXI. MALE AND FEMALE.

Not a single individual of the numerous persons who have described the birds of the United States, seems to have had opportunities of studying the habits of this beautiful Owl, and all that I find related respecting it is completely at variance with my observations. In describing the manners of this bird, I shall therefore use all due caution, although at the same time I shall not be too anxious to obtain credit in this, more than in some other matters, for which I have patiently borne the contradictions of the ignorant. The following extracts from my journals I hope will prove interesting.

_St Augustine, East Florida, 8th November 1832._—Mr SIMMONS, the Keeper of the Fort, whom I had known at Henderson in Kentucky, having informed me that some boys had taken five young Barn Owls from a hole in one of the chimneys, I went with a ladder to see if I could procure some more. After much search I found only a single egg, which had been recently laid. It was placed on the bare stone of the wall, surrounded by fragments of small quadrupeds of various kinds. During our search I found a great number of the disgorged pellets of the Owl, among which some were almost fresh. They contained portions of skulls and bones of small quadrupeds unknown to me. I also found the entire skeleton of one of these Owls in excellent condition, and observing a curious bony crest-like expansion on the skull from the base of the cere above to that of the lower mandible, elevated nearly a quarter of an inch from the solid part of the skull, and forming a curve like a horse-shoe, I made an outline of it. On speaking to the officers of the garrison respecting this species of Owl, Lieutenant CONSTANTINE SMITH, a most amiable and intelligent officer of our army, informed me, that, in the months of July and August of that year, these birds bred more abundantly than at the date above stated. Other persons also assured me that, like the House Pigeon, the Barn Owl breeds at all seasons of the year in that part of the country. The statement was farther corroborated by Mr LEE WILLIAMS, a gentleman formerly attached to the topographical department, and who, I believe, has written an excellent account of the eastern portion of the peninsula of the Floridas.

Having arrived at Charleston, South Carolina, in October 1833, as soon as my family and myself were settled in the house of my friend the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN, I received information that a pair of Owls (of the present species) had a nest in the upper story of an abandoned sugar-house in the city, when I immediately proceeded to the place, accompanied by Dr SAMUEL WILSON and WILLIAM KUNHARDT, Esq. We ascended cautiously to the place, I having pulled off my boots to prevent noise. When we reached it I found a sort of large garret filled with sugar-moulds, and lighted by several windows, one of which had two panes broken. I at once discovered the spot where the Owls were, by the hissing sounds of the young ones, and approached slowly and cautiously towards them, until within a few feet, when the parent bird seeing me, flew quickly toward the window, touched the frame of the broken panes, and glided silently through the aperture. I could not even afterwards observe the course of its flight. The young were three in number, and covered with down of a rich cream colour. They raised themselves on their legs, appeared to swell, and emitted a constant hissing sound, somewhat resembling that of a large snake when angry. They continued thus without altering their position, during the whole of our stay, which lasted about twenty minutes. They were on a scattered parcel of bits of straw, and surrounded by a bank made of their ejected pellets. Very few marks of their excrements were on the floor, and they were beautifully clean. A Cotton Rat, newly caught, and still entire, lay beside them, and must have been brought from a distance of several miles, that animal abounding in the rice-fields, none of which, I believe, are nearer than three or four miles. After making some arrangements with the Negro man who kept the house, we returned home. The eggs from which these young Owls had been hatched must have been laid six weeks before this date, or about the 15th of September.

On the 25th of November they had grown much in size, but none of the feathers had yet made their appearance, excepting the primaries, which were now about an inch long, thick, full of blood, and so tender that the least pressure of the fingers might have burst them. As the young grow more and more, the parents feed and attend to them less frequently than when very small, coming to them in the night only with food. This proves the caution of these birds in avoiding danger, and the faculty which the young possess of supporting abstinence in this middle state of their growth.

On the 7th of December I visited the Owls in company with my friend JOHN BACHMAN. We found them much grown; indeed, their primaries were well out; but their back and breast, and all their lower parts, were still thickly covered with down.

On the 6th of January I again saw them, but one of the young was dead, although in good condition. I was surprised that their food still continued to be composed entirely of small quadrupeds, and principally of the rat mentioned above.

My last visit to them was on the 18th of January. The two younger ones were now, to all appearance, fully grown, but were yet unable to fly. A few tufts of down still remained attached to the feathers on scattered parts of the body. I took them home. One was killed, and the skin preserved.

Now, these facts are the more interesting, that none of the numerous European authors with whom I am acquainted, have said a single word respecting the time of breeding of this species, but appear to be more intent on producing long lists of synonyms than on presenting the useful materials from which the student of nature can draw inferences. I shall therefore leave to them to say whether our species is, or is not, the same as the one found in the churches and ruins of Europe. Should it prove to be the same species, and if the European bird breeds, as I suspect it does, at so different a period of the year, the habits of the American Owl will form a kind of mystery in the operations of nature, as they differ not only from those of the bird in question, but of all other Owls with which I am acquainted.

My opinion is, that the Barn Owl of the United States is far more abundant in the Southern Districts than in the other parts. I never found it to the east of Pennsylvania, and only twice in that State, nor did I ever see, or even hear of one in the Western Country; but as soon as I have reached the maritime districts of the Carolinas, Georgia, the Floridas, and all along to Louisiana, the case has always been different. In Cuba they are quite abundant, according to the reports which I have received from that island. I am indeed almost tempted to believe, that the few which have been found in Pennsylvania were bewildered birds, surprised by the coldness of the winter, and perhaps unable to return to the Southern Districts. During my visit to Labrador I neither saw any of these birds, nor found a single person who had ever seen them, although the people to whom I spoke were well acquainted with the Snowy Owl, the Grey Owl, and the Hawk Owl.

THOMAS BUTLER KING, Esq., of St Simon's Island, Georgia, sent me two very beautiful specimens of this Owl, which had been caught alive. One died shortly after their arrival at Charleston; the other was in fine order when I received it. The person to whose care they were consigned, kept them for many weeks at Charleston before I reached that city, and told me that in the night their cries never failed to attract others of the same species, which he observed hovering about the place of their confinement.

This species is altogether nocturnal or crepuscular, and when disturbed during the day, flies in an irregular bewildered manner, as if at a loss how to look for a place of refuge. After long observation, I am satisfied that our bird feeds entirely on the smaller species of quadrupeds, for I have never found any portions of birds about their nests, nor even the remains of a single feather in the pellets which they regurgitate, and which are always formed of the bones and hair of quadrupeds.

Owls which approach to the diurnal species in their habits, or which hunt for food in the morning and evening twilight, are more apt to seize on objects which are themselves more diurnal than otherwise, or than the animals which I have found to form the constant food of our Barn Owl. Thus the Short-eared, the Hawk, the Fork-tailed, the Burrowing, and other Owls, which hunt either during broad day, or mostly towards evening, or at the return of day, will be found to feed more on mixed food than the present species. I have no doubt that the anatomist will detect corresponding differences in the eye, as they have already been found in the ear. The stomach is elongated, almost smooth, and of a deep gamboge-yellow; the intestines small, rather tough, and measuring one foot nine inches in length.

Its flight is light, regular, and much protracted. It passes through the air at an elevation of thirty or forty feet, in perfect silence, and pounces on its prey like a Hawk, often waiting for a fair opportunity from the branch of a tree, on which it alights for the purpose. During day, they are never seen, unless accidentally disturbed, when they immediately try to hide themselves. I am not aware of their having any propensity to fish, as the Snowy Owl has, nor have I ever seen one pursuing a bird. Ever careful of themselves, they retreat to the hollows of trees and such holes as they find about old buildings. When kept in confinement, they feed freely on any kind of flesh, and will stand for hours in the same position, frequently resting on one leg, while the other is drawn close to the body. In this position I watched one on my drawing table for six hours.

This species is never found in the depth of the forests, but confines itself to the borders of the woods around large savannas or old abandoned fields overgrown with briars and rank grass, where its food, which consists principally of field-mice, moles, rats, and other small quadrupeds, is found in abundance, and where large beetles and bats fly in the morning and evening twilight. It seldom occurs at a great distance from the sea. I am not aware that it ever emits any cry or note, as other owls are wont to do; but it produces a hollow hissing sound continued for minutes at a time, which has always reminded me of that given out by an opossum when about to die by strangulation.

When on the ground, this Owl moves by sidelong leaps, with the body much inclined downwards. If wounded in the wing, it yet frequently escapes through the celerity of its motions. Its hearing is extremely acute, and as it marks your approach, instead of throwing itself into an attitude of defence, as Hawks are wont to do, it instantly swells out its plumage, extends its wings and tail, hisses, and clacks its mandibles with force and rapidity. If seized in the hand, it bites and scratches, inflicting deep wounds with its bill and claws.

It is by no means correct to say that this Owl, or indeed any other, always swallows its prey entire: some which I have kept in confinement, have been seen tearing a young hare in pieces with their bills in the manner of hawks; and mice, small rats, or bats, are the largest objects that I have seen them gobble up entire, and not always without difficulty. From having often observed their feet and legs covered with fresh earth, I am inclined to think that they may use them to scratch mice or moles out of their shallow burrows, a circumstance which connects them with the Burrowing Owls of our western plains, which like them have very long legs. In a room their flight is so noiseless that one is surprised to find them removed from one place to another without having heard the least sound. They disgorge their pellets with difficulty, although generally at a single effort, but I did not observe that this action was performed at any regular period. I have mentioned these circumstances, to induce you to examine more particularly the habits of the Barn Owls of Europe and the Southern States of America, that the question of their identity may be decided.

The pair which I have represented were given to me by my friend RICHARD HARLAN, M.D., of Philadelphia. They had been brought from the south, and were fine adult birds in excellent plumage. I have placed a ground squirrel under the feet of one of them, as being an animal on which the species is likely to feed.

STRIX FLAMMEA, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 133.—_Lath._ Index
Ornith. vol. i. p. 60.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of
the United States, p. 38.

WHITE or BARN OWL, STRIX FLAMMEA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. vi.
p. 57. pl. 50. fig. 2.—_Nuttall_, Manual, part ii. p. 139.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXI. Fig. 1.

Bill short, compressed, deep, and strong, with a short cere at the base; upper mandible with its dorsal outline straight to the end of the cere, then curved, the sides nearly flat and perpendicular, the edges acute, the tip deflected, with a rounded but sharp-edged point; lower mandible, with the dorsal outline, convex, the sides convex, the edges arched and sharp, the extremity obliquely truncate. Nostrils large, oval, in the fore part of the cere. Head disproportionately large, as are the eyes and external ears. Neck also very short, body rather slender. Legs rather long; tarsus long, feathered, scaly at the lower part; toes large, the hind one short, the inner nearly as long as the middle one; the outer connected by a short web at the base; all covered above with series of small tuberculiform oblong scales, intermixed with a few bristles, and three broad scutella at the end; claws arched, long, rounded above, extremely sharp, that of the middle toe with an edge on the inner sides, which in old birds is transversely cracked.

Plumage very soft and downy, blended above, loose beneath. Long bristly feathers at the base of the bill stretching forwards. Eyes surrounded by circles of loose thin feathers; auricular feathers narrow, recurved and compact at the end, forming a ruff. Wings ample, long; second quill longest, third slightly shorter, first next in length; primaries incurvate towards the end, broad and rounded, the first, as usual in the genus, pectinated. Tail rather short, even, of twelve broad rounded feathers.

Bill pale greyish-yellow or light horn-colour. Iris bluish-black. Scales of the feet and claws brownish-yellow. The general colour above is greyish-brown, with light yellowish-red interspersed, produced by very minute mottling, each feather having towards the end a central streak of deep brown terminated by a small oblong greyish-white spot. The wings are similarly coloured; the secondary coverts and outer edges of the primary coverts with a large proportion of light brownish-red; the quills and tail transversely barred with brown. The face is white, tinged with red, especially near the inner angle of the eye; the ruff of compact feathers light brownish-red. The under parts are pale brownish-red, fading anteriorly into white, each feather having a small dark-brown spot at the tip.

Length 17 inches, extent of wings 3 feet 6 inches; bill along the back 1-8/12; tarsus 3-2/12, middle toe and claw 2-7/12.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXI. Fig. 2.

The female resembles the male, but is considerably larger.

Length 18 inches, extent of wings 3 feet 8 inches.

This bird is so closely allied to the Barn Owl of Europe, that it is very difficult to characterize the two by any comparative marks. The principal differences are to be found in the size and colouring. The American bird is much larger than the European, as will be seen by the following measurements taken from an adult male.

Length 14 inches, extent of wings 3 feet; bill along the back 1-6/12; tarsus 2⅜, middle toe and claw 2-1/12.

The colouring of the American is much darker than that of the European bird, and in the former the ruff is red, whereas it is usually white in the latter; but as both birds present variations of colour, no stress can be laid on this circumstance. The difference that strikes one most on comparing the two, is the greater size of the American bird, and more especially of its tarsus and toes.

On the whole, although I suspect they will ultimately be found to be different species, I am unable to point out any satisfactory distinctions.

THE GROUND SQUIRREL.

With the exception of the Flying Squirrel, we have no small quadruped more interesting than this. It occurs in all parts of the United States, and being so beautifully marked in its colouring, is known to every body. It seems to me, by the liveliness of its motions, to be among quadrupeds what the Wren is among birds; for, like it, the Ground Squirrel, full of vivacity, plays as it were with the utmost grace and agility among the rocky debris or the uprooted stumps of trees; and its chatter, although less musical than that of the Little Winter Wren, excites a peculiar pleasure as it comes on the ear. I think I see him as he runs before me with the speed of thought, his tail quite erect, his chops distended with the produce of the woods, until he reaches the entrance of his retreat. Now he stands upright, clatters his little chops, and as I move onwards a single step, he disappears in a moment. Stone after stone I have removed from the fence, but in vain, for beneath the whole the cunning creature has formed its deep and circuitous burrow. With my hatchet I cut the tangled roots, and as I follow the animal into its innermost recesses, I hear its angry voice. I am indeed within a few inches of his last retreat, and now I see his large dark protruded eye; but at this moment out he rushes with such speed that it would be vain to follow him. He has twenty burrows all ready prepared, and, delighted with his foresight and sagacity, I willingly leave him unmolested in that to which he has now betaken himself.

The Ground Squirrel varies greatly in its external appearance in different parts of the United States. In the Southern Districts it is smaller than to the eastward, and the farther north you go the lighter are its tints, the differences being at least as great as those between the Barn Owl of America and that of Europe. But the variations are confined to size and intensity of colouring, nor can I perceive any differences indicative of specific distinction. I am not inclined to consider variations of colour sufficient to constitute species, for instance, in the case of the Chimney Swallow of Europe and the Barn Swallow of America; nor is there any reason for believing that very considerable differences in size may not exist in the same species; indeed the fact is very apparent among water birds especially.

THE BLUE-HEADED PIGEON.

_COLUMBA CYANOCEPHALA_, LINN.

PLATE CLXXII. MALE AND FEMALE.

A few of these birds migrate each spring from the Island of Cuba to the Keys of Florida, but are rarely seen, on account of the deep tangled woods in which they live. Early in May 1832, while on a shooting excursion with the commander of the United States Revenue Cutter, the Marion, I saw a pair of them on the western side of Key West. They were near the water, picking gravel, but on our approaching them they ran back into the thickets, which were only a few yards distant. Several fishermen and wreckers informed us that they were more abundant on the "Mule Keys;" but although a large party and myself searched these islands for a whole day, not one did we discover there. I saw a pair which I was told had been caught when young on the latter Keys, but I could not obtain any other information respecting them, than that they were fed on cracked corn and rice, which answered the purpose well.

I have represented three of these Pigeons on the ground, with some of the creeping plants which grew in the place where I saw the pair mentioned above.

COLUMBA CYANOCEPHALA, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 282.—_Lath._
Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 698.

BLUE-HEADED TURTLE, _Lath._ Synops. vol. iv. p. 651.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXII.

Bill straight, and short, rather slender, compressed; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, a convex declinate obtuse tip, of which the margins are acute and overlapping; lower mandible with the angle near the extremity, which is compressed and rounded. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small and compressed; the general form robust, resembling that of many partridges. Legs short and of moderate length; tarsus covered anteriorly and laterally with quincuncial subhexagonal scales, rounded and scaly behind; toes scutellate, free, margined; claws rather small, arched, compressed, flat beneath, obtuse.

Plumage compact all over. Wings short, rounded, third, fourth and fifth quills longest and almost equal; second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth slightly cut out on the outer web. Tail of moderate length, slightly rounded, of twelve broad rounded feathers.

Bill bright blue above, the fleshy parts at the base bright carmine. Iris very dark brown. Scales of the feet carmine, the interspaces white; claws bluish-grey. The general colour of the plumage above is a rich deep chocolate, slightly tinged with olive, beneath brownish-red, lighter on the middle of the breast, the sides and under tail coverts approaching to the tint of the back. The upper part of the head bright blue, encircled by a band of deep black, broader on the occiput, and very narrow in front; a band of white under the eye meeting its fellow on the chin, a broad patch of black on the fore neck, margined with white beneath, and on the sides spotted with bright blue.

Length 12¼ inches, extent of wings 17½; bill along the ridge ½, along the edge 1; tarsus 1¼, middle toe 1¼; weight 10¼ oz.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXII. Fig. 2.

The Female is rather less, but in external appearance resembles the male.

The beautiful Cyperus represented in this plate is quite abundant on all the dry Keys of the Floridas, and is also found in many parts of the interior of the peninsula.

THE BARN SWALLOW.

_HIRUNDO RUSTICA_, LINN.

PLATE CLXXIII. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.

There is a pleasure known but to few, a pleasure which I have often enjoyed and still enjoy, whenever an opportunity occurs. It is when the heats of summer have already swelled the fruits of our fields, our gardens, and our orchards; when Nature herself benignantly smiles on the rich scenery which she has thus embellished; when the husbandman guides the healthful labours of his sons, and wields the instruments of his humble but important calling from the early dawn to the noontide hour of repose; when the bee herself for a while retires from the honeyed flower, which now languishingly droops on its tender stem; when the cattle recline beneath the broad shade of some majestic tree, and the labourers retire to the banks of some favourite brook to enjoy their frugal meal, and quench their thirst from the limpid waters. Now all is silent, sweet sleep closes their eyes, and nature seems to pause in her labours. But no sooner have the meridian hours passed, than all return to their occupations, and again every thing is full of life and activity.

Observe that passing Swallow, how swiftly she glides around us, how frequently she comes and goes, how graceful her flight, how pleasant her musical twitterings, how happy she seems to be! Now she has again entered the barn. I will follow her into her summer abode, and laying myself down on the fragrant new-mown hay, watch her motions in silence. Ah! over my head a nest is firmly fixed to each rafter; nay on this and that are placed several, and the barn is filled with swallows and their melodies. Happy and charming little creatures! There a female sits on her eggs, and is receiving a store of insects from the mouth of her mate. Having fed her, he solaces her with a soft chattering voice, and away he goes in search of more food. Here is another nest filled to the brim with young birds trimming their new clothing, and shaking their little wings, while their parents approach with a supply of food. See how they open their yellow throats! There, how busily are these two birds occupied in sticking layer after layer of damp sandy earth mixed with bits of grass against the beam! Dear things! their old tenement has crumbled and fallen down, or they are unusually late; but going and returning so often will surely enable them to accomplish their undertaking. Leaving them for a moment, I see some old birds meeting their young on wing. How cleverly have the little things received the proffered fly! and now away for more speeds the happy parent. I wish I could count the number now in the barn; but I cannot unless I ascertain first how many young there are, and then double the quantity of nests to get the number of their parents. I have done so:—there are more than a hundred.

Night now draws near, the sun is beneath the horizon; the farmer has closed the barn door, the Swallows enter by the air-holes; there is still enough of light to enable them to find their nests, and now each has alighted on the edge, and addresses itself to rest. Here are no bickerings, no quarrels; all is peace and harmony, and now, the labours of the day ended, how quiet is their repose! I too may take a nap among the fragrant hay, and dream of the joys of my distant home.

Day-light approaches from the east. All is calm, pure, and delightful. The little birds shoot forth from their retreats, and with songs of joy commence their pleasant labours. What a happy world are they in! Here a smart fellow roguishly challenges his neighbour in all the pride of his full song, or listens for a while to the gentler notes of his beloved mate, while she sits on her pearly egglets. Others have already resorted to the fields, the meadows, or the river's side; and there I will follow them. The dew glitters on every leaf and blade, and the bright sun throws his glory over the face of nature, which joyously spreads out all her treasures before him. The husbandman, who is seen advancing toward the scene of his labours, observes the flight of the Swallows, and assures himself that there will be a continuance of fair feather. Numberless insects have already left their place of rest, and, like the birds, are seen in search of food, swiftly moving through the calm and balmy air. She of the forked-tail follows them with gliding motion, and with unerring dexterity seizes one and another. She seems hardly to exert herself on this occasion; for all her movements, upwards, downwards, or sidewise, are performed with perfect ease, and now she sweeps along like a meteor. How many circuits she makes in the hour is more than I can tell, but numerous indeed they must be, when every one knows that at her ordinary speed she can travel a mile in a minute.

Now, towards the sandy shores of the lake or river, she betakes herself. She alights, and with delicate steps, aiding her motions by gentle flappings of her wings, she advances towards the edge, takes a few drops, plumes herself, and returns to her nest, filling as she flies her wide mouth with insects. Should her nest be not finished, or need some repair, she carries a pellet of tempered earth in her bill, or picks up a feather that has been shed by a goose or a fowl, or from the hay carries off a stem of long grass to mix with the mortar. As the heat becomes oppressive to all animals save herself, she passes and repasses round the cattle under the shady trees, and snaps off each teasing insect. Now on the fence she alights by the side of her offspring, or teaches them to settle on the slender dry twig of some convenient tree. There they plume themselves, chatter, and rest for a while, until, sorry to have lost so much time, they launch into the air, to continue their sport.

The summer has now closed, and the Swallows, young and old, assemble on the roof of the barn, and in a few days are joined by many others, reared in humbler situations. Each parent bird perhaps tells her young that, before dismal winter cramps the insects, they must escape to some far distant land, where the genial heat continues unabated. The talk becomes general, and day after day increases. The course of the journey is pointed out to each inexperienced traveller, by means of short excursions through the air. At length a chill night comes, the following brings a slight frost, the time has arrived, and on the next bright morning the flocks rise high above the trees, and commence their journey.

The Barn Swallow makes its first appearance at New Orleans, from the middle of February to the first of March. They do not arrive in flocks, but apparently in pairs, or a few together, and immediately resort to the places where they have bred before, or where they have been reared. Their progress over the Union depends much on the state of the weather; and I have observed a difference of a whole month, owing to the varying temperature, in their arrival at different places. Thus in Kentucky, Virginia, or Pennsylvania, they now and then do not arrive until the middle of April or the beginning of May. In milder seasons, they reach Massachusetts and the eastern parts of Maine by the 10th of the latter month, when you may rest assured that they are distributed over all the intermediate districts. So hardy does this species seem to be, that I observed it near Eastport in Maine, on the 7th May 1833, in company with the Republican or Cliff Swallow, pursuing its different avocations, while masses of ice hung from every cliff, and the weather felt cold to me. I saw them in the Gut of Cansso on the 10th of June, and on the Magdeleine Islands on the 13th of the same month. They were occupied in building their nests in the open cupola of a church. Not one, however, was observed in Labrador, although many Sand Martins were seen there. On our return, I found at Newfoundland some of the present species, and of the Cliff Swallow, all of which were migrating southward on the 14th of August, when Fahrenheit's thermometer stood at 41°.

In spring, the Barn Swallow is welcomed by all, for she seldom appears before the final melting of the snows and the commencement of mild weather, and is looked upon as the harbinger of summer. As she never commits depredations on any thing that men consider as their own, every body loves her, and, as the child was taught by his parents, so the man teaches his offspring, to cherish her. About a week after the arrival of this species, and when it has already resorted to its wonted haunts, examined its last year's tenement, or made choice of a place to which it may securely fix its nest, it begins either to build or to deposit its eggs.

The nest is attached to the side of a beam or rafter in a barn or shed, under a bridge, or sometimes even in an old well, or in a sink hole, such as those found in the Kentucky barrens. Whenever the situation is convenient and affords sufficient room, you find several nests together, and in some instances I have seen seven or eight within a few inches of each other; nay, in some large barns I have counted forty, fifty, or more. The male and the female both betake themselves to the borders of creeks, rivers, ponds, or lakes, where they form small pellets of mud or moist earth, which they carry in their bill to the chosen spot, and place against the wood, the wall, or the rock, as it may chance to be. They dispose of these pellets in regular layers, mixing, especially with the lower, a considerable quantity of long slender grasses, which often dangle for several inches beneath the bottom of the nest. The first layers are short, but the rest gradually increase in length, as the birds proceed upwards with their work, until they reach the top, when the fabric resembles the section of an inverted cone, the length being eight inches, and the greatest diameter six, while that from the wall or other flat surface to the outside of the shell is three and a half, and the latter is fully an inch thick. I have never observed in a newly finished nest, the expansion of the upper layer mentioned by WILSON, although I have frequently seen it in one that has been repaired or enlarged. The average weight of such a nest as I have described is more than two pounds, but there is considerable difference as to size between different nests, some being shorter by two or three inches, and proportionally narrow at the top. These differences depend much on the time the birds have to construct their tenement previous to depositing the eggs. Now and then I have seen some formed at a late period, that were altogether destitute of the intermixture of grass with the mud observed in the nest described above, which was a perfect one, and had occupied the birds seven days in constructing it, during which period they laboured from sunrise until dusk, with an intermission of several hours in the middle of the day. Within the shell of mud is a bed, several inches thick, of slender grasses arranged in a circular form, over which is placed a quantity of large soft feathers. I never saw one of these nests in a chimney, nor have I ever heard of their occurring in such situations, they being usually occupied by the American Swift, which is a more powerful bird, and may perhaps prevent them from entering. The eggs are from four to six, rather small and elongated, semitranslucent, white, and sparingly spotted all over with reddish-brown. The period of incubation is thirteen days, and both sexes sit, although not for the same length of time, the female performing the greater part of the task. Each provides the other with food on this occasion, and both rest at night beside each other in the nest. In South Carolina, where a few breed, the nest is formed in the beginning of April, and in Kentucky about the first of May.

When the young have attained a considerable size, the parents, who feed them with much care and affection, roost in the nearest convenient place. This species seldom raises more than two broods in the Southern and Middle Districts, and never, I believe, more than one in Maine and farther north. The little ones, when fully fledged, are enticed to fly by their parents, who, shortly after their first essays, lead them to the sides of fields, roads or rivers, where you may see them alight, often not far from each other, on low walls, fence-stakes and rails, or the withered twigs or branches of some convenient tree, generally in the vicinity of a place in which the old birds can easily procure food for them. As the young improve in flying, they are often fed on the wing by the parent birds. On such occasions, when the old and young birds meet, they both rise obliquely in the air, and come close together, when the food is delivered in a moment, and they separate to continue their gambols. In the evening the family retires to the breeding place, to which it usually resorts until the period of their migration.

About the middle of August, the old and young birds form more extensive associations, flying about in loose flocks, which are continually increasing, and alighting in groups on tall trees, churches, court-houses, or barns, where they may be seen for hours pluming and dressing themselves, or removing the small insects which usually infest them. At such times they chirp almost continually, and make sallies of a few hundred yards, returning to the same place. These meetings and rambles often occupy a fortnight, but generally by the 10th of September great flocks have set out for the south, while others are seen arriving from the north. The dawn of a fair morning is the time usually chosen by these birds for their general departure, which I have no reason to believe is prevented by a contrary wind. They are seen moving off without rising far above the tops of the trees or towns over which they pass; and I am of opinion that most of those large parties usually migrate either along the shores of the Atlantic, or along the course of large streams, such places being most likely to afford them suitable retreats at night, when they betake themselves to the reeds and other tall grasses, whenever it is convenient to do so, although I have witnessed their migration during a fine clear and quiet evening. Should they meet with a suitable spot, they alight close together, and for a while twitter loudly, as if to invite approaching flocks or stragglers to join them. In such places I have seen great flocks of this species in East Florida;—and here, reader, I may tell you that the fogs of that latitude seem not unfrequently to bewilder their whole phalanx. One morning, whilst on board the United States Schooner "Spark," Lieutenant commandant PIERCEY and the officers directed my attention to some immense flocks of these birds flying only a few feet above the water for nearly an hour, and moving round the vessel as if completely lost. But when the morning is clear, these Swallows rise in a spiral manner from the reeds to the height of thirty or forty yards, extend their ranks, and continue their course.

I found flocks of Barn Swallows near St Augustine for several days in succession, until the beginning of December; but after the first frost none were to be seen. These could not have removed many degrees farther south for want of proper food, and I suspect that numbers of them spend the whole winter along the south coast of the Gulf of Mexico.

The flight of this species is not less interesting than any other of its characteristics. It probably surpasses in speed that of any other species of the feathered tribes, excepting the Humming Bird. In fine calm weather their circuits are performed at a considerable elevation, with a lightness and ease that are truly admirable. They play over the river, the field, or the city with equal grace, and during spring and summer you might imagine their object was to fill the air around them with their cheerful twitterings. When the weather lowers, they move more swiftly in tortuous meanderings over the meadows, and through the streets of the towns; they pass and repass, now close to the pavement, now along the walls of the buildings, here and there snapping an insect as they glide along with a motion so rapid that you can scarcely follow them with the eye. But try:—there she skims against the wind over the ruffled stream; up she shoots, seizes an insect, and wheeling round, sails down the breeze with a rapidity that carries her out of your sight almost in a moment. Noon arrived, and the weather being sultry, round the horse or the cow she passes a thousand times, seizing on each tormenting fly. Now she seems fain to enter the wood, so close along its edge does she pursue her prey; but spying a Crow, a Raven, a Hawk or an Eagle, off she shoots with doubled speed after the marauder, and the next instant is seen lashing, as it were, the object of her anger with admirable dexterity, after which, full of gaiety and pride the tiny thing returns towards the earth, forming to herself a most tortuous path in the air.

On the ground the movements of this Swallow are by no means awkward, although, when compared with those of other birds, they seem rather hampered. It walks by very short steps, and aids itself with its wings. Should it be necessary to remove to the distance of a few yards, it prefers flying. When alighted on a twig, it shews a peculiar tremulous motion of the wings and tail.

The song of our Barn Swallow resembles that of the Chimney Swallow of England so much that I am unable to discern the smallest difference. Both sing on the wing and when alighted, and the common _tweet_ which they utter when flying off is precisely the same in both. Their food also is similar; at least that of our bird consists entirely of insects, some being small coleoptera, the crustaceous parts of which are disgorged in roundish pellets scarcely the size of a small pea.

I have represented a pair of our Barn Swallows in the most perfect spring plumage, together with a nest taken from one of the rafters of a barn in the State of New Jersey, in which there was at least a score of them.

HIRUNDO RUSTICA, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 343.

HIRUNDO RUFA, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United
States, p. 64.—_Nuttall_, Manual, part i. p. 601.

BARN SWALLOW, HIRUNDO AMERICANA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. v.
p. 34. pl. 38. fig. 1, 2.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor.-
Amer. part ii. p. 329.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXIII. Fig. 1.

Bill very short, feeble, much depressed and very broad at the base, compressed towards the tip, upper mandible with the ridge straight and sloping, the sides towards the end convex, the edges sharp and overlapping, having a slight notch close upon the tip, which is very small, rather obtuse, and declinate; lower mandible flattish, the edges inflected, the tip acute. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, with a membrane above. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather slender. Feet very small and feeble, tarsus very short, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes free, lateral nearly equal, the outer united as far as the second joint; claws shortish, arched, much compressed, very acute.

Plumage rather compact and shining above, blended and with ordinary lustre beneath. Wings very long and narrow, primaries narrow and tapering to a rounded point, the first longest, the rest gradually diminishing; secondaries very short, truncato-emarginate.

Bill black. Iris hazel. Feet purplish-black. Anterior part of the forehead bright chestnut; the rest of the head, the hind neck, back, rump and smaller wing-coverts glossy deep steel-blue. Quills and tail brownish-black, the latter with a white spot on the inner web of each feather, excepting the two middle ones. Throat bright chestnut; a broad band of black glossed with steel-blue on the lower part of the neck, joining the dark colour of the upper parts. The rest of the lower parts light brownish-red.

Length 7 inches, extent of wings 13; bill along the back 3/12, along the edge 7/12; tarsus 4/12.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXIII. Fig. 2.

The Female differs from the Male only in being generally paler beneath.

The young bird fully fledged has the red of the forehead and throat paler, the band on the forepart of the breast brownish-black, without gloss, and the rest of the lower parts white tinged with red.