Part 30

When the young ouzel is out of the nest and wants to be fed, he stands on a rock and "dips," that is, bends his knees and drops, then stands up straight again. He looks very droll.

Dr. Merriam tells a story which shows how fond the dipper is of water, especially of a sprinkle, and explains why he always chooses to live by a waterfall. The doctor was camping out on the bank of a stream where one of these birds lived, and one morning he threw some water out of a cup. Instantly the bird flew into the little shower as if he liked it. To see if he really wanted to get into the water, the doctor threw out some more. Again the bird flew into it, and as long as he would throw out water, the ouzel would dash in for his sprinkle.

Besides showing that the water ouzel likes water, this little story shows another thing,--that birds are not naturally afraid of us. On far-off islands where men have seldom been, birds do not run away from people. They have not learned to fear them. They will come up to men, perch on their shoulders, and ride with them on their boats. I have read that in Norway, where everybody is kind to birds, they are not at all afraid. They will come into a barn or a house when the weather is cold, or they are hungry, and no man or boy thinks of frightening or hurting them.

Mr. C. Lloyd Morgan has reared many birds by hatching the eggs in an incubator, so that they cannot be taught by their parents. He says that the birds of the wildest parents hatched in that way are never afraid of people who move quietly, or of a cat, or a quiet dog. Any sudden movement startles a young bird, but they are as much afraid of a dead leaf blown by the wind as they are of a hawk. It is the suddenness that alarms them. Some of them stop instantly on a sudden noise, like a sneeze or a cough. If one foot happens to be raised to step, they will hold it so, and if the head is one side, it will stay so, exactly as if they were all turned to stone.

FOOTNOTE:

See Appendix, 6.

THE WAGTAIL FAMILY

(Motacillidæ)

IT does not seem very polite to call a family of birds wagtails, just because they have the habit of jerking their tails as they go about. But that is the name they go by in the books, and we have two of them in the United States. We call them pipits or titlarks.

The best known is SPRAGUE'S PIPIT, called the Missouri skylark, or sometimes the prairie skylark. This bird gets the name of skylark because he sings while soaring about in the air far over our heads. He could not sing on a tree if he wanted to, for he lives on the plains between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains, where are few or no trees.

The pipits live on the ground, and walk and run, not hop. As they go, they bob their heads, and jerk their tails. They are a little larger than an English sparrow, and they go in flocks. They are never seen in the woods, but in open pastures or plains, or beside a road.

Sprague's Pipit is all in streaks of brown and gray, and lighter below. He has a large foot, which shows that he lives on the ground, and a very long claw on the hind toe.

The nest of the pipit is made by hollowing out a little place in the ground and lining it with fine grasses. Though on the ground, it is one of the hardest to find, because it is lightly covered with the dry grasses, and when the bird is sitting, she matches the grasses so well that one can hardly see her, even when looking right at her.

The birds eat insects and weed seeds, and go about in flocks. Even then they are hard to see, because when they are startled they do not flutter or fly, but crouch or squat at once, and stay perfectly still.

This bird is noted, as I said, for his song. It is said to be as fine as that of the English skylark of which we hear so much. Perhaps his way of singing makes it still more interesting. He starts up on wing, flies a little one way, then the other, all the time going higher and higher. So he climbs on up, up, up, in a zigzag way, till he is fairly out of sight, all the time giving a wonderfully sweet song. It is not very loud, but of such a kind that it is heard when the bird is far out of sight. When he can no longer be seen, one may still follow him with a good field-glass. He will sing without stopping for fifteen or twenty minutes.

Then suddenly he stops, closes his wings, and comes head first towards the ground. It seems as if he would dash his brains out against the earth, but just before he touches, he opens his wings and alights like a feather, almost where he started from. He should be as famous as the English bird, and will be, no doubt, when he is better known.

One of the things which make bird-study so interesting to us is that there is so much to be found out about our birds. European birds have been studied much longer, but we have still many beautiful ones whose manners and ways of living are almost unknown. These things are left for you young folk to find out when you are grown up.

FOOTNOTE:

See Appendix, 7.

THE WARBLER FAMILY

(Mniotiltidæ)

THE gayest, the liveliest, and almost the smallest of our birds are the warblers. Some of them are not over five inches long from the tip of the beak to the end of the tail. Almost all wear bright colors, and the pair are never alike, while the youngsters are different from both.

But few of them warble. Then why are they named so? Well, I haven't found out; but we must call them warblers because that is their name in the books. Most of them have funny little songs of a few notes, which they jerk out every minute as they scramble about on the trees.

We have seventy species of these little birds in the United States, and every one is working as hard as he can from morning till night, for our benefit. For every one eats insects, and enormous numbers of them. Some scramble over trees and pick them out from bud and blossom and under leaves, others go over the bark, and others fly out like flycatchers.

Some of them work in the tops of tall trees, others work in the orchards, some in bushes, and some on the ground. But wherever they live, they are beautiful to look at, and bewitching to study.

Though they are little, they have plenty of spirit. I know of one kept in a room with several other birds, all bigger than himself. You might think he would be treated as big boys would treat a little one. But no, indeed! the tiny fellow made himself ruler of the whole party. He took the biggest bathing-dish, the best seed-cup, and the most desirable perch, and drove away any big bird who dared to claim either.

The YELLOW WARBLER, found all over the country, is often called the wild canary, for, as you see him fly, he appears to be entirely yellow, but when you get nearer, you will see that on his breast are fine stripes of reddish brown. His mate is all in yellow-olive color.

They are very sweet little creatures, and make one of the prettiest nests in America. It is usually in an upright fork of a tree, or bush. It is made of fine material, among the rest a good deal of a gray silky stuff which gives it a beautiful look.