Birds and Nature, Vol 10 No. 2 [September 1901]

MY HUMMINGBIRD

 
No other fairy did I see
So graceful, pulsing, in the air,
As if the heart of nature beat
Its throbbings in the birdlet there.
 
 
The gray, the green, the dash of red,
The beating wings that gauzy seem —
So rapid the vibrating hum —
I almost dream were but a dream.
 
 
Then suddenly I cry aloud,
When in a rapid-shooting ray,
My fairy disappears, a-flash,
Into the sun-haunts far away.
 

Willis Edwin Hurd.

THE RUFOUS HUMMINGBIRD
(Selasphorus rufus.)

This hardy little “Hummer,” which is even smaller than our well-known ruby-throated hummingbird, is weighted with a number of popular names. Among these are the “Rufous-backed Hummingbird,” the “Ruff-necked Honeysucker, or Hummingbird,” the “Rufous Flame-bearer” and the “Cinnamon Hummer.”

The Rufous is probably the most widely distributed of all the hummingbirds. Its range extends throughout Western North America. It breeds from the higher mountains of Southern California northward, near the coast to Nootka Sound, Alaska. In its migrations it flies eastward to Montana, Colorado and thence southward through New Mexico to Western Texas. In fact, during this period it frequents the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, adding beauty to this wild region. Its winter home is chiefly in Mexico and Lower California.

This Hummingbird is exceedingly pugnacious and, as Mr. Henshaw says, “The fiery red throat of the Rufous-backed Hummer is an index of impetuous, aggressive disposition, and when brought into conflict with the other species it invariably asserts its supremacy and drives its rival in utter rout from the field. Nor do the males of this species confine their warfare to their own sex. Gallantry has no place apparently in their breasts, and when conquest has put them in possession of a perch near a clump of flowers they wage war on all comers, females as well as males.”

The Rufous Hummer is one of the earliest of the migratory birds to leave its winter home, and arrives within the borders of the United States early in March and is known to begin housekeeping as far North as the State of Oregon early in April. Altitude as well as climate seems to have much influence in the selection of a nesting sight. The altitude of the breeding range seems to lie between four and seven thousand feet above the sea level, and nests have been reported as high as ten thousand feet.

Mr. A. W. Anthony, writing of this species as he observed it in Oregon, says that “they nested to some extent in oaks, blackberry vines and on dry roots projecting from upturned trees. One nest hung from the end of a tall fern, while others, drooping over it from above, hid the beautiful structure from all but accidental discovery. Their favorite sites, however, seemed to be the long, trailing vines overhanging embankments and upturned trees. A number were found in railroad cuts. One nest was found that had been placed on top of a last year’s habitation, a mere rim being built to raise the sides, and a flooring being added to cover up a large pebble that could be plainly felt under the cotton lining.” This habit of adding stories to nests of the previous season is not infrequent with other species of the hummingbirds.

The nest of the Rufous Hummingbird resembles those of many other species of hummers, and it is very much like that of the Anna’s hummingbird. The framework is composed of delicate tree mosses and fine bark fiber, the outer face of which is sometimes adorned with lichens, though not so profusely as is that of the Anna’s, and fastened together with spider’s webs and the silky threads from cocoons. It is lined with the fine cotton down of plants, especially that of the willow, and the pappus of the Compositae. These nests seem large when compared with the size of the bird. The average nest measures about one and one-half inches in the outer diameter and one and one-fourth inches in depth. “Their nesting sites may be looked for in low bushes as well as on the horizontal limbs of trees at various distances from the ground.” When compared with other species of the family this species is quite noisy, especially when it sees a broad-tailed hummer in the neighborhood. For this species it exhibits an intense animosity and will pursue it, uttering shrill and expressively angry notes.

WHAT A LITTLE MOUSE SAID

I am only a little mouse; my name is Wee Wee.

I live in a big house away out in California. My mother has made a very cozy home for us between the walls where it is nice and dark. We do not mind the dark, you know, for we can see even better then, with our little bright eyes.

Our bed is soft and warm and is made of tiny bits of paper which we children helped our mother to tear up and it is lined with some nice soft cotton which she picked out of a comforter one night when every-one had gone to church.

We have never been out very much but now, our mother says, we are big enough to help get the living. When she told us this, we all said: “Squeak, squeak, squeak,” which, in mouse language, meant that we were glad and thought it would be fine fun to leave our nest and go out into the big world.

But mother said: “Children, before you go I want to tell you something; listen well to what I shall say.”

And so we six little mice sat very solemnly in a row, on our hind legs and pricked up our ears and listened quietly while she went on. “You go through a narrow passage till you come to a little round hole and when you have squeezed through this you will find yourself in a big room called a kitchen. You must then run quickly across the floor and into the door of a bathroom. There is also a hole behind the bathroom door which you may need to jump into if anything happens. Next comes a nice, large pantry and in there you will find everything that we mice like to eat. Bring what you can carry, after you have eaten all you can, but do not eat too much or you will never be able to squeeze through the hole again. Now you must never go in the daytime, but wait until night.”

After telling us this, my mother left the nest saying that she was going to call on one of our neighbors who lived in an old felt hat, very near us. She said she might be gone some time, so, while my brothers and sisters were taking a nap, I thought to myself: “I don’t see why mother told me not to go in daylight. I am sure everything seems perfectly quiet now and I don’t think anything could hurt me; and I do feel so hungry. I guess I will go on a little trip, and ‘we shall see what we shall see.’” With that I crept out of the nest without making the least bit of noise and followed the directions my mother had given me.

Soon I found myself in the pantry and O! how good everything did smell. I found some cheese and I ate a very big hole in a white cake with icing on it and was just thinking what I could carry home as a surprise for the children when I heard a rushing noise like the patter of feet and I jumped behind some glass jars that were on the floor in the corner.

To my horror I saw very near me, for I could see right through the glass jar, a funny thing with long white wool and sharp teeth, a long, pointed nose and a terrible big red tongue hanging out of its mouth and little sharp black eyes that seemed to be looking clear through me. Oh! how I trembled and oh! how I wished then that I had obeyed my mother.

I saw now, when it was too late, that she knew best. Just then a big giant with dresses on came into the pantry and I heard her say: “That dog thinks there is a mouse in here.” So it was a dog and I remembered now that my mother had said one day that there was a spitz dog in that house.

The lady went out but the dog smelled me and was determined not to give me up so he ran to the big giant with dresses on and whined and whined until she came in again and said: “Well, Zip, I guess there must be a mouse here since you insist on it.” So she went out and got a long stick with a lot of straws on the end of it (she called it a broom), and with that she poked around all over the pantry, and the funny thing with long, white wool and sharp teeth kept smelling around and clawing at the glass jars till I thought I should die of fright. “It must be behind those jars, the way Zip acts,” she said; and she took the broom and knocked over all the jars with a crash. Well! I thought my time had surely come. My eyes filled with tears and my heart almost broke as I thought of my dear mother and all my sisters and brothers so happy at home.

But just in that terrible moment I happened to remember what my mother had said about running into that other hole in case anything should happen, so with one bound I was on the floor and the funny thing with long, white wool and sharp teeth made a grab for me. I could feel his hot breath close upon me and I could almost feel his sharp teeth when I heard the big giant with dresses on say: “Catch him, Zip.”

But surely a kind fate must have been with me for I was too quick for them. I never ran so fast in my life. I fairly flew till I found the hole behind the door and jumped in and ran along till I found myself once more at home, where all the family were frightened almost to death at my absence.

After that terrible experience I shall always do what my mother tells me to, for after all, she knows best.

Jessie Juliet Knox.

ABOUT A SPARROW

There have been tales told about this curious little rowdy among birds. He was a nuisance; he drove our song and grub-eating birds away; he also littered the cornices of buildings and made of himself a pest in general. There have been other tales told about the cute chap who perches upon a wire near the window and rocks his clever head toward you when you tap against the pane; and still another story is told concerning the lynching of one by a flock of the brisk chaps. Some say they took a bit of twine, fastened it to a wire, secured the victim, and induced him to put his head through a loop; then drew the twine and scattered, leaving a lot of wise men to gaze upon the wonderful spectacle, which the newspapers took up and printed. I have watched birds for years and I never saw an incident of the sort – the lynching of a sparrow by his fellow sparrows! A sparrow has been caught in the loop of a bit of twine fastened to a wire or a cornice; but no sparrow ever deliberately put the twine up and lynched one of his rowdy brood. He wouldn’t do it simply because he hasn’t got bird instinct enough to follow out such a tragedy. I will tell you a little incident concerning a sparrow which I know to be true. It didn’t find a place in any newspaper, either, simply because I never gave it much thought until now, hence never mentioned it before.

I had noticed upon arising for several mornings in the early spring a half dozen or so of sparrows congregated in a sunny spot of the roof below. At first I paid no attention to it, for the sparrow is apt to go where he pleases, man’s wishes to the contrary notwithstanding. But the little chaps were there every morning, and in the same sunny spot. I was curious to know why they came there, and I went down stairs one morning to watch them from a more close point of observation. I got there before they came. I stood back of a closed blind, peeped through the slats and waited. When the sun-rays fell upon the spot close to the window the little fellows began to come – each with a morsel of food. They twittered and hopped about as if they were enjoying the morning fancy. Then they scattered and took wings to chimneys, cornices and wires. I opened the blinds and looked out. I saw one lone, little sparrow feeding. I bent over the sill. He did not fly away. I reached out and took him in. He fluttered and struggled. His eyes were covered with a film. He was blind.

H. S. Keller.

THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW
(Zonotrichia albicollis.)

“The sparrows are all meek and lowly birds.” They are not clothed in a plumage of gorgeous hues, but are endowed with melodious voices in harmony with their surroundings. “Theirs are the quaint lullaby songs of childhood.” Their plain coats are a means of protection, for they frequent the fields, the hedges and the low shrubs of the woodland borders. Some of their relatives, the grosbeaks, the goldfinch and the finches, are more brilliantly colored and are more arboreal in their habits.

The White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis) is one of the handsomest of the sparrows. It is one of the exquisite parts of nature. Migratory in habits, its range covers all of Eastern North America, nesting from Michigan and Massachusetts northward and wintering from the latter state southward to Florida.

Its scientific name is descriptive of the marked color characteristics of its crown and throat. Zonotrichia means hair or crown bands, and albicollis is from the Latin meaning white-throated. It is sometimes called Peabody Bird, especially by the New Englanders, with whom Peabody is an important traditional name, and they hear the birds say in its song “I – I Pea-body, Pea-body, Pea-body.” This rendering of its plaintive song is a caricature, yet the name clings to the bird even in other parts of the country. The reserved manner of its movements would hardly lead one to expect that a beautiful song could flow from its white throat. This song is so well defined that the notation may be written on the musical staff. Mr. Chapman says: “In September, when the hedgerows and woodland undergrowths begin to rustle with sparrows, juncos and towhees, I watch eagerly for the arrival of these welcome fall songsters.” We cannot forbear quoting the words of that great student of bird life, Audubon, who says of the White-Throat’s habit in autumn, “How it comes and how it departs are quite unknown to me. I can only say that, all of a sudden, the edges of the fields bordering on creeks or swampy places and overgrown with different species of vines, sumac bushes, briers and the taller kinds of grasses, appear covered with birds. They form groups, sometimes containing from thirty to fifty individuals, and live together in harmony. They are constantly moving up and down among these recesses, with frequent jerkings of the tail, and uttering a note common to the tribe. From the hedges and thickets they issue one by one, in quick succession, and ramble to the distance of eight or ten yards, hopping and scratching, in quest of small seeds, and preserving the utmost silence. When the least noise is heard or alarm given, and frequently, as I thought, without any alarm at all, they all fly back to their covert, pushing directly into the thickest part of it. A moment elapses, when they become reassured, and ascending to the highest branches and twigs open a little concert, which, although of short duration, is extremely sweet. There is much plaintive softness in their note, which I wish, kind reader, I could describe to you; but this is impossible, although it is yet ringing in my ears, as if I were in those very fields where I have so often listened to it with delight. No sooner is their music over than they return to the field, and thus continue alternately sallying forth and retreating during the greater part of the day. At the approach of night they utter a sharper note, consisting of a single twit, repeated in a smart succession by the whole group, and continuing until the first hooting of some owl frightens them into silence. Yet, often during fine nights I have heard the little creatures emit, here and there, a twit, as if to assure each other that all’s well.”

The nest, too, is a neat creation of small roots, coarse grass, bark and moss and lined with a bedding of fine grass and moss. It is usually placed on the ground in fields or open woods, where it is protected by the taller grasses. Sometimes, however, low bushes or the lower branches of trees are selected. So careful is the White-Throat in the constructing of its nest not to disturb the surrounding vegetation, and so neutral is the color of the material used, that one may hunt for a long time without finding it unless he luckily stumbles upon it.