Part 15

“—— with wakeful melody to cheer The livelong hours,”

that the song of this bird is heard to advantage. Sometimes, when, desirous of watching the first flight of Urania Sloaneus, I have ascended the mountains before break of day, I have been charmed with the rich gushes and bursts of melody proceeding from this most sweet songster, as he stood on tiptoe on the topmost twig of some sour-sop or orange tree, in the rays of the bright moonlight. Now he is answered by another, and now another joins the chorus, from the trees around, till the woods and savannas are ringing with the delightful sounds of exquisite and innocent joy. Nor is the season of song confined, as in many birds, to that period when courtship and incubation call forth the affections and sympathies of the sexes towards each other. The Mocking-bird is vocal at all seasons; and it is probably owing to his permanency of song, as well as to his incomparable variety, that the savannas and lowland groves of Jamaica are almost always alive with melody, though our singing birds are so few.

“It is remarkable,” observes Mr. Hill, “that in those serenades and midnight solos, which have obtained for the Mocking-bird the name of the Nightingale, and which he commences with a rapid stammering prelude, as if he had awaked, frightened out of sleep, he never sings his songs of mimicry; his music at this time is his own. It is full of variety, with a fine compass, but less mingled and more equable than by day, as if the minstrel felt that the sober-seeming of the night required a solemnity of music peculiarly its own. The night-song of the Mocking-bird, though in many of its modulations it reminds us of that of the Nightingale of Europe, has less of volume in it. There is not more variety, but a less frequent repetition of those certain notes of extacy, which give such a peculiar character, and such wild, intense, and all absorbing feeling to the midnight song of the European bird. Though the more regulated quality of the song of our Nightingale is less calculated to create surprise, it is the more fitted to soothe and console; and that sensation of melancholy which is said to pervade the melody of the European minstrel, is substituted in the midnight singing of our bird by one of thoughtful and tranquil delight.”

The nest of the Mocking-bird is not so elaborate a structure as that of many birds. It is built with little attempt at concealment in some bush or low tree, often an orange near the dwelling-house. One now before me, was built in a bunch of plantains. It consists of a rude platform of loose twigs, in which are interlaced many shreds of old rags; this frame supports and encloses a rather neat cup, composed entirely of fine fibrous roots. Another has the frame almost wholly of rags, from canvas to lace; and the cup of thatch-threads, and horse-hair. Three eggs are commonly laid, measuring ¹⁹⁄₂₀ by ⁷⁄₁₀ inch, of a pale bluish-green, dashed with irregular blotches of pale reddish-brown: they are not perfectly regular in form, their oval having more or less tendency to a cylindrical shape, rather abruptly flattened at the ends. When young are in possession, their presence is no secret; for an unpleasant sound, half hissing, half whistling, is all day long issuing from their unfledged throats; delightful efforts, I dare say, to the fond parents. At this time the old birds are watchful and courageous. If an intruding boy or naturalist approaches their family, they hop from twig to twig, looking on with outstretched neck, in mute but evident solicitude; but any winged visitant, though ever so unconscious of evil intent, and though ever so large, is driven away with fearless pertinacity. The saucy Ani and Tinkling instantly yield the sacred neighbourhood, the brave Mocking-bird pursuing a group of three or four, even to several hundred yards’ distance; and even the John-crow, if he sail near the tree, is instantly attacked and driven from the scene. But the hogs are the creatures that give him the most annoyance. They are ordinarily fed upon the inferior oranges, the fruit being shaken down to them in the evenings; hence they acquire the habit of resorting to the orange-trees, to wait for a lucky windfall. The Mocking-bird feeling nettled at the intrusion, flies down and begins to peck the hog with all his might:—Piggy, not understanding the matter, but pleased with the titillation, gently lies down and turns up his broad side to enjoy it; the poor bird gets into an agony of distress, pecks and pecks again; but only increases the enjoyment of the luxurious intruder, and is at last compelled to give up the effort in despair.

In St. Domingo the Mocking-bird is no less common than in Jamaica: it is there called by the French inhabitants Rosignol, which is but a modification of Rosignor, or lord of the rose, the Spanish name of the Nightingale, probably of Moorish origin.

BLACK-CHEEKED YELLOW-THROAT.

Maryland Yellow-throat. +Wils.+

Trichas Marylandica.

Turdus trichas, +Linn.+ Sylvia trichas, +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 23. Trichas Marylandica, +Sw.+

Length 5 inches, expanse 7, flexure 2⁴⁄₁₀, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀, rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀.

We have now arrived at an extensive group of birds of small size, and delicate form, mostly known by the name of Warblers. All of them are merely winter visitants in Jamaica, the greater number retiring to the Northern continent to breed and spend the summer. To Wilson’s and Audubon’s descriptions, I refer the reader, as I have scarcely anything to add to their accounts of these birds.

The Yellow-throat, one of the most beautiful of them, was first seen by me on the 8th of October, on which day I obtained two males, in distinct localities. I do not think the species had arrived long, though some of the Sylvicolæ had been with us nearly two months, for I and my servants were in the woods every day seeking for birds, and this species is too striking to be easily overlooked. In the latter autumn months it was quite common, particularly in marshy places: I have seen it in some numbers hopping busily about the bulrushes in a pond, even descending down the stems to the very surface of the water, and picking minute flies from thence. The stomachs of such as I have examined, contained fragments of beetles and other insects.

In the spring, it seems to linger longer than its fellows; for the last warbler that I saw was of this species, on the 1st of May. Yet Wilson mentions that it habitually appears in Pennsylvania about the middle, or last week, of April; and that it begins to build its nest about the middle of May. The migration of the short-winged birds is probably performed in straggling parties, and extends over a considerable period of time; individuals remaining some time after the greater number have departed.

WORM-EATER.

Vermivora Pennsylvanica.

Sylvia vermivora, +Lath.+ Dacnis vermivpra, +Aud.+ pl. 34. Vermivora Pennsylvanica, +Sw.+

Length 5 inches, expanse 8¹⁄₂, flexure 2¹⁄₂, tail 1⁸⁄₁₀, rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀.

This is a scarce bird with us. Some three or four specimens are all that have occurred to my observation. It seems, however, to spread rather widely over the diversities of mountain and lowland; for, while the first was obtained on the top of the Bluefields Peak, the next was found close to the sea-shore. Its habits are constant: for we have always observed it perched transversely on the dry trunks of slender dead trees, engaged in peeping into, and picking from, the crevices of the bark. In the stomachs of those which I have examined, I have found comminuted insects. Spiders and caterpillars form the chief portion of its food, according to Wilson.

It is too rare to warrant an opinion as to the period of its arrival or departure: I first met with it on the 7th of October.

WATER THRUSH.

Bessy Kick-up.—River-pink. (Rob. MSS.)

Seiurus Noveboracensis.

Motacilla Noveboracensis, +Gm.+—Aud. pl. 426. Turdus aquaticus, +Wils.+ Seiurus Noveboracensis, +Sw.+

Length 5¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 9⁴⁄₁₀, flexure 3, tail 2, rictus ⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀.

I first saw this amusing species about the end of August, around the muddy margins of ponds in St. Elizabeth and Westmoreland; and immediately afterward they became so abundant, that individuals were to be seen running here and there on the road, all the way from Bluefields to Savanna-le-Mar, especially along the sea-shore, and by the edges of morasses; not at all associating, however. They run rapidly; often wade up to the heel in the water, or run along the twigs of a fallen tree at the brink, now and then flying up into the pimento and orange trees. When walking or standing, the tail is continually flirted up in the manner of the Wagtails, whence the local name of Kick-up, though, perhaps, none but a negro would consider a motion of the tail, kicking. The resemblance of this bird to the Wagtail, Wilson has noticed, and it is very striking in many respects. It walks among the low grass of pastures, picking here and there, wagging the tail, and uttering a sharp chip. Now and then it runs briskly, and snatches something, probably a winged insect, from the grass. Wilson praises its song very highly; in its winter residence with us it merely chips monotonously. The stomachs of several that I have dissected contained water-insects in fragments, and one or two small pond shells.

There is a remarkable analogy in the Water Thrushes to the Snipes and Plovers, in their habits of running by the side of water, of wading, and of flirting up the hinder parts; in the height of the tarsi; and in the elongation of the tertials. The Pea-Dove, which frequents water more than any other of our Doves, has longer tertials than any. Is there any connexion between the lengthening of these feathers, and aquatic habits?

GOLD-CROWNED THRUSH.

Land Kick-up.