Part 43

When it rains, or when the little ones are tired, or at night, the hen calls them to rest under her wide, warm wings.

If you watch a pair of robins raising a brood, you will wonder to see how many times in an hour they go and come, bringing food. When the little ones are fledged, notice how they are taught to fly. You may, also, see the father bird giving his little ones a lesson in singing.

When one of the young birds is weaker than the rest, one of the parents will leave the others, and give all the time to teaching and helping that weak one.

A bluebird in my garden, lost, by one trouble and another, all her brood but one. That one the parent birds were teaching to fly. It rested on the gravel walk, while the old birds sat on the fence, and called it.

A boy of three years, seeing the young bird, went up close to look at it. The father bluebird flew close over the child’s head scolding. As the child got near the young bird, the old bird flew upon the child’s head and pulled his hair with its beak!

The little boy ran screaming back to me. The young bluebird lifted his wings, and flew with his parents into a bush. Was not the father bluebird brave? The child, though only three years old, was many times bigger than the bird.

I told you how the birds cleaned their nests. Birds are neat creatures. You notice that their feathers are bright and clean. Have you seen how much they prune or dress them?

Birds are very fond of a bath. If you set a basin or pan of clean, fresh water, on the grass, among shrubs or trees, you will see many birds going to it to take a bath. They splash the water about in fine style. When the young birds are fledged, they will be brought to your basin to have a wash.

When birds roll or whirl in dust or sand, it is not that they like dirt; they are having a sand bath. The sand flirted in and out among their plumage takes out grease and little insects and dirt. Then they shake off all the sand.

FOOTNOTES:

Notice that the woodpecker uses its stiff pointed tail feathers to brace its body when it rises to the full length of its legs to aid it in giving a heavy blow, as it draws down its legs and dashes its beak into the tree with the force of all its weight.

LESSON XXXIV.

THE BIRDS OF SONG.

The woods and the fields would be very dull and silent without the song of the birds. Even the shrill chirp of the sparrow is a pleasant sound to hear. It gives us an idea of happy life.

We will now talk a little about our best song birds. Let us take the catbird first, as that is common in all parts of the country. It is a pretty drab and black bird, about nine inches long.

Tom said to me, “A catbird cannot sing; it gets its name because it squalls like a cat.” True, Tom, the bird has that harsh note for you, and to frighten off snakes and other enemies. But you listen to him when he sits in the shade, and sings to himself, or makes his best song for Mrs. Catbird.

Ah, there is a song for you! Mellow and full, and rich as the tones of a mocking-bird! Now he trills, now he whistles, now he imitates the songs of all the sweetest singers of the wood. He can almost outdo the mocking-bird. He sits in his shady covert, and seems to be laughing at all the other singers, as he borrows their music.

First, he breaks out into the oriole’s song; then he calls like a jay; next he chatters like a sparrow; then he whistles like a thrush; then he gives you a little warble from the bluebird’s music-book. In every song he gives exactly the notes he copies.

A pair of catbirds built in a honeysuckle by my window. I found they were very loving birds. At a cry of pain from Mrs. Catbird or the little ones, the father-bird would come flying back, almost in fits with distress.

He would fly round and round to seek the cause of their trouble. If he found any enemy, which he could not drive away, he called so loudly and sadly that all the birds near came in haste to help him.

The catbird is one of the bravest of the feathered race. He will fight and drive off a snake. I have seen him defend his home against a jay, a crow, or a squirrel.

A near relative of the catbird is the blackbird. This is a gay and happy creature. All the warm weather it pipes sweetly, as it flies here and there. The red-wing, or colonel blackbird, lives in swamps. The green-breasted blackbird likes a drier home.

Blackbirds are social in their habits. You seldom see one or two alone. If you see one near your home, you will soon see or hear more. They build their nests early in the spring. Young blackbirds are among the first birds fledged in a season.

The nest is large, and often lined with mud. When the mud dries, the nest is like a rude cup. Then a soft lining is put in for a bed. In this nest are laid five eggs of a blue-gray color, dashed with red or brown.

The blackbird is very brave, and will drive a cat or a snake from his home. I have seen him chase a squirrel from his tree.

Pleasant as is the blackbird’s note, he cannot rival the thrush. Among all our birds of song, I think the thrush is best known and best loved. This is a small bird, of dusky brown and white, the under part of its body being yellowish white, with black spots. These birds are fond of woody places, and live alone or in pairs. During the middle of the day they are silent.

If you wish to hear the thrush at his best, listen to him in the early morning, or about sundown, when he takes his place on the top twig of the tallest tree he can find. He begins with a clear, sweet sound, like a German flute. Next he trills some notes like the tinkle of a chime of silver bells. Then he pours out a full, rich song, and repeats it several times.

Soon you will hear some other thrush, from another tall tree, answer him. They seem to try which can sing the best. They keep up the concert until the stars come out, and the fireflies flit among the grasses.