berries, which hang in pairs, and sometimes three or four together, at
the extremity of their slender peduncle, are eaten in great quantities
during winter by various species of birds.

THE HEMLOCK WARBLER.

_SYLVIA PARUS_, WILS.

PLATE CXXXIV. MALE AND FEMALE.

It is to the persevering industry of WILSON that we are indebted for
the discovery of this bird. He has briefly described the male, of which
he had obtained but a single specimen. Never having met with it until
I visited the Great Pine Forest, where that ardent ornithologist found
it, I followed his track in my rambles there, and had not spent a week
among the gigantic hemlocks which ornament that interesting part of our
country, before I procured upwards of twenty specimens. I had therefore
a fair opportunity of observing its habits, which I shall now attempt
to describe.

The tallest of the hemlock pines are the favourite haunts of this species.
It appears first among the highest branches early in May, breeds there,
and departs in the beginning of September. Like the Blue Yellow-back
Warbler, its station is ever amidst the thickest foliage of the trees,
and with as much agility as its diminutive relative, it seeks its food
by ascending from one branch to another, examining most carefully the
under parts of each leaf as it proceeds. Every insect that escapes is
followed on wing, and quickly secured. It now and then, as if for variety
or sport, makes a downward flight, alights on a smaller tree, surveys
it for a while, and again ascends to a higher station. During the early
part of autumn it frequents, with its young, the margins of rivulets,
where insects are then more abundant.

Its notes are sweet and mellow, and although not numerous, are easily
distinguished from those of any other Warbler. Like a true Sylvia, it
is often seen hanging at the end of a branch, searching for insects.
It never alights on the trunk of a tree, and in this particular differs
from every other species of its genus. Its food is altogether of insects.

To the inimitable skill of the worthy JEDIAH IRISH in the use of the
rifle, I am indebted for the possession of a nest of this bird. On
discovering one of the birds, we together watched it for hours, and at
last had the good fortune to see itself and its mate repeatedly enter a
thick cluster of leaves, where we concluded their nest must be placed. The
huntsman's gun was silently raised to his shoulder, the explosion followed
in course, and as I saw the twig whirling downwards, I experienced all
the enthusiastic anxiety ever present with me on such occasions. Picking
up the branch, I found in it a nest, containing three naked young, with
as yet sealed eyelids. The nest was small, compact, somewhat resembling
that of the American Goldfinch. It was firmly attached to the leaves of
the hemlock twig, which appeared as if intentionally closed together
over and around it, so as to conceal it from all enemies. Lichens,
dry leaves of hemlock, and slender twigs formed its exterior. It was
delicately lined with the fur of the hare and racoon; and the young lay
imbedded in the softest feathers of the Ruffed Grouse. The parents soon
became aware of the mischief which we had done; they descended, glided
over our heads, manifested the most tender affection and the deepest
sorrow, and excited our sympathy so far, that I carefully placed their
tender offspring on a fallen log, leaving them to the care of their kind
protectors, and contenting myself with their cradle.

I have since met with this species in the State of Maine, and have seen
several individuals in Newfoundland; but never again have I found a
nest, nor can I say any thing regarding its eggs. Confined as it is to
the interior of the forests, I cannot even tell you more respecting its
mode of flying than what I have already related, never having observed
it performing a longer flight than from one tree to another.

     SYLVIA PARUS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United
     States, p. 82.

     HEMLOCK WARBLER, SYLVIA PARUS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. v.
     p. 114. pl. 44. fig. 3. Male.—_Nuttall_, Manual, part i. p. 392.

Adult Male. Plate CXXXIV. Fig. 1.

Bill shortish, nearly straight, subulato-conical, acute, nearly as deep
as broad at the base, the edges sharp, the gap line slightly deflected at
the base. Nostrils basal, elliptical, lateral, half-closed by a membrane.
General form rather slender. Feet of ordinary length; tarsus slender,
compressed, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes scutellate above,
the inner free, the hind toe of moderate size; claws arched, slender,
compressed, acute.

Plumage soft, blended, slightly glossed. Wings of ordinary length, the
first quill longest. Tail shortish, emarginate.

Bill dark brown above, pale brown beneath. Iris hazel. Feet pale brown,
tinged with yellow. The upper parts are yellowish-green, spotted
with brownish-black. The head yellow. The quills and their coverts
brownish-black, margined with yellowish-green. The outer margin of
the inner secondary quills, and the ends of the secondary coverts and
first row of small coverts, white. Tail-feathers brownish-black, edged
externally with yellowish-green; the three outer on each side white,
with the shafts and a broadish line at the end black. A yellow band
passes over the eye; cheeks greenish; throat, fore neck, and breast,
rich yellow, which gradually fades posteriorly; the sides streaked with
blackish-brown.

Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the back 5/12, along
the edge 7/12; tarsus 9/12.

Adult Female. Plate CXXXIV. Fig. 2.

The Female resembles the male, but is rather paler.

THE DWARF MAPLE.

ACER SPICATUM.

This is a low shrubby tree, which does not attain a greater height at
most than fifteen or twenty feet. It abounds along the rocky margins
of creeks or rivers, especially those meandering at the bases of the
Alleghany Mountains.

THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER.

_SYLVIA BLACKBURNIÆ_, LATH.

PLATE CXXXV. MALE.

This charming and delicate Warbler passes through the United States in
April and May. I have met with it at different times, although sparingly,
in every part of the Union, more frequently in the southern districts
in spring, and in the eastern in early autumn. In the State of Maine,
on the north-eastern confines of the United States, it is not uncommon,
and I have reason to think that it breeds in the vicinity of Mars Hill,
and other places, along the banks of St John's River, where my sons and
myself shot several individuals, in the month of September. While at
Frederickton, New Brunswick, Sir ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL kindly presented me
with specimens. On the Magdalene Islands, in the Gulf of St Lawrence,
which I visited in June 1833, I found the Blackburnian Warbler in all
the brilliancy of its spring plumage, and had the pleasure of hearing
its sweet song, while it was engaged in pursuing its insect prey among
the branches of a fir tree, moving along somewhat in the manner of the
American Redstart. Its song, which consisted of five or six notes, was
so much louder than could have been expected from the size of the bird,
that it was not until I had fairly caught it in the act, that I felt
satisfied as to its proceeding from my old acquaintance. My endeavours to
discover its nest proved fruitless. In Labrador we saw several individuals
of both sexes, and on the coast of Newfoundland, on our return westward,
we again found it.

To Professor MACCULLOCH of the Pictou College I am indebted for a nest
and three eggs of this bird. While looking at his valuable collection of
the Birds of Nova Scotia, my attention was attracted by a case containing
nests with eggs, among which was that of the Blackburnian Warbler. It was
composed externally of different textures, and lined with silky fibres
and thin delicate stripes of fine bark, over which lay a thick bed of
feathers and horse-hair. The eggs were small, very conical towards the
smaller end, pure white, with a few spots of light red towards the larger
end. It was found in a small fork of a tree, five or six feet from the
ground, near a brook. The Professor informed me that it was the only
nest he had seen, and that he considered this species of Warbler as rare
in the district.

My friend JOHN BACHMAN has since informed me, that, in June 1833, he saw
a pair of these birds engaged in constructing a nest near Lansingburgh,
in the State of New York. He never saw the species in the maritime parts
of South Carolina.

The specimen from which I made the drawing copied in the plate before you,
I procured near Reading in Pennsylvania, on the banks of the Schuylkill
River, about thirty years ago. Some specimens shot in New Brunswick in
September, were mottled somewhat in the manner of a two years old Tanager
or Summer Red Bird, being probably very young birds.

     SYLVIA BLACKBURNIÆ, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 257.—_Ch.
     Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 80.

     BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER, SYLVIA BLACKBURNIÆ, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
     vol. iii. p. 67. pl. 28. fig. 3.—_Nuttall_, Manual, part i.
     p. 379.

Adult Male. Plate CXXXV.

Bill short, straight, subulato-conical, acute, rather broader than
deep at the base, the edges sharp. Nostrils basal, lateral, elliptical,
half-closed by a membrane. General form slender. Feet of ordinary length;
tarsus slender, compressed, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes
free, scutellate above, the hind toe of moderate size; claws arched,
slender, compressed, acute.

Plumage soft, blended, slightly glossed. Wings longish, the first quill
longest, the two next scarcely shorter, and almost equal. Tail of moderate
length, slightly emarginate.

Bill and legs umber-brown, the former bluish at the base below. Iris
hazel. The general colour of the upper parts is black, with streaks
of white on the back. A small patch of orange on the top of the head,
a band of the same colour from the base of the mandible over the eye,
passing down the neck and curving forwards; a similar short band under
the eye; lore, and a patch behind the eye, black. Quills margined with
white, and a large patch of the same on the wing, including the inner
secondary coverts, and the ends of the outer, with those of the first
row of smaller coverts. The three outer tail-feathers on each side
white at the base, and along the inner web. Throat and breast of a rich
reddish-orange, the hind part of the breast and belly dull yellow, fading
backwards; the sides of the breast marked with black streaks and spots.

Length 4¾ inches, extent of wings 7¾; bill along the ridge 4/12, along
the edge ½; tarsus 8½/12.

The Female resembles the male in colouring, but the bright orange of
the head and breast is replaced by yellow.

     PHLOX MACULATA, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. i. p. 840. _Pursh_,
     Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 149.—PENTANDRIA MONOGYNIA, _Linn._
     POLEMONIA, JUSS.

Erect; the stem rough, with purplish dots; the leaves oblongo-lanceolate,
smooth, with the margin rough; the flowers in an oblong crowded panicle,
of a purplish-red tint, the segments of the corolla rounded; the calycine
teeth acute and recurved. It grows abundantly in wet meadows, from New
England to Carolina. The flowers, although pleasing to the eye, have no
scent.

A BALL IN NEWFOUNDLAND.

On our return from the singularly wild and interesting country of
Labrador, the "Ripley" sailed close along the northern coast of
Newfoundland. The weather was mild and clear; and, while my young
companions amused themselves on the deck with the music of various
instruments, I gazed on the romantic scenery spread along the bold and
often magnificent shores. Portions of the wilds appeared covered with a
luxuriance of vegetable growth far surpassing that of the regions which
we had just left, and in some of the valleys I thought I saw trees of
moderate size. The number of habitations increased apace, and many small
vessels and boats danced on the waves of the coves which we passed. Here
a precipitous shore looked like the section of a great mountain, of which
the lost half had sunk into the depths of the sea, and the dashing of the
waters along its base was such as to alarm the most daring seaman. The
huge masses of broken rock impressed my mind with awe and reverence, as
I thought of the power that still gave support to the gigantic fragments
which every where hung, as if by magic, over the sea, awaiting, as it
were, the proper moment to fall upon and crush the impious crew of some
piratical vessel. There again, gently swelling hills reared their heads
towards the sky, as if desirous of existing within the influence of its
azure purity; and I thought the bleatings of rein-deer came on my ear.
Dark clouds of Curlews were seen winging their way towards the south,
and thousands of Larks and Warblers were flitting through the air. The
sight of these birds excited in me a wish that I also had wings to fly
back to my country and friends.

Early one morning our vessel doubled the northern cape of the Bay of St
George; and, as the wind was light, the sight of that magnificent expanse
of water, which extends inward to the length of eighteen leagues, with
a breadth of thirteen, gladdened the hearts of all on board. A long
range of bold shores bordered it on one side, throwing a deep shadow
over the water, which added greatly to the beauty of the scene. On the
other side, the mild beams of the autumnal sun glittered on the water,
and whitened the sails of the little barks that were sailing to and
fro, like so many silvery gulls. The welcome sight of cattle feeding
in cultivated meadows, and of people at their avocations, consoled us
for the labours which we had undergone, and the privations which we had
suffered; and, as the Ripley steered her course into a snug harbour that
suddenly opened to our view, the number of vessels that were anchored
there, and a pretty village that presented itself, increased our delight.

Although the sun was fast approaching the western horizon when our anchor
was dropped, no sooner were the sails furled than we all went ashore.
There appeared a kind of curious bustle among the people, as if they
were anxious to know who we were, for our appearance, and that of our
warlike looking schooner, shewed that we were not fishermen. As we bore
our usual arms and hunting accoutrements, which were half Indian and half
civilized, the individuals we met on the shore manifested considerable
suspicion, which our captain observing, instantly made a signal, when the
star-spangled banner glided to the mast-head, and saluted the flags of
France and Britain in kindly greeting. We were welcomed and supplied with
abundance of fresh provisions. Glad at once more standing on something
like soil, we passed through the village, and walked round it, but as
night was falling, were quickly obliged to return to our floating home,
where, after a hearty supper, we serenaded with repeated glees the
peaceful inhabitants of the village.

At early dawn I was on deck, admiring the scene of industry that presented
itself. The harbour was already covered with fishing-boats, employed in
procuring mackerel, some of which we appropriated to ourselves. Signs of
cultivation were observed on the slopes of the hills, the trees seemed
of goodly size, a river made its way between two ranges of steep rocks,
and here and there a group of Mickmack Indians were searching along the
shores for lobsters, crabs, and eels, all of which we found abundant and
delicious. A canoe laden with rein-deer meat came alongside, paddled by
a pair of athletic Indians, who exchanged their cargo for some of our
stores. You would have been amused to see the manner in which these men,
and their families on shore, cooked the lobsters: they threw them alive
into a great wood-fire; and, as soon as they were broiled, devoured them
while yet so hot that any of us could not have touched them. When properly
cooled, I tasted these roasted lobsters, and found them infinitely better
flavoured than boiled ones. The country was represented as abounding
in game. The temperature was higher, by twenty degrees, than that of
Labrador, and yet I was told that the ice of the bay seldom broke up
before the middle of May, and that few vessels attempted to go to Labrador
before the 10th of June, when the cod-fishery at once commences.

One afternoon we were visited by a deputation from the inhabitants of
the village, inviting our whole party to a ball which was to take place
that night, and requesting us to take with us our musical instruments. We
unanimously accepted the invitation, which had been made from friendly
feelings; and finding that the deputies had a relish for "old Jamaica,"
we helped them pretty freely to some, which soon shewed that it had lost
nothing of its energies by having visited Labrador. At ten o'clock, the
appointed hour, we landed, and were lighted to the dancing hall by paper
lanterns, one of us carrying a flute, another a violin, and I with a
flageolet stuck into my waistcoat pocket.

The hall proved nothing else than the ground floor of a fisherman's
house. We were presented to his wife, who, like her neighbours, was an
adept in the piscatory art. She curtseyed, not _à la Taglioni_, it is
true, but with a modest assurance, which to me was quite as pleasing
as the airiness with which the admired performer just mentioned might
have paid her respects. The good woman was rather unprepared, and quite
_en negligée_, as was the apartment, but full of activity, and anxious
to arrange things in becoming style. In one hand she held a bunch of
candles, in the other a lighted torch, and distributing the former at
proper intervals along the walls, she applied the latter to them in
succession. This done, she emptied the contents of a large tin vessel
into a number of glasses which were placed in a tea-tray on the only
table in the room. The chimney, black and capacious, was embellished with
coffee-pots, milk-jugs, cups and saucers, knives and forks, and all the
paraphernalia necessary on so important an occasion. A set of primitive
wooden stools and benches was placed around, for the reception of the
belles of the village, some of whom now dropped in, flourishing in all
the rosy fatness produced by an invigorating northern climate, and in
decoration vying with the noblest Indian queen of the west. Their stays
seemed ready to burst open, and their shoes were equally pressed, so full
of sap were the arctic beauties. Around their necks, brilliant beads,
mingled with ebony tresses, and their naked arms might have inspired
apprehension had they not been constantly employed in arranging flowing
ribbons, gaudy flowers, and muslin flounces.

Now arrived one of the beaux, just returned from the fishing, who, knowing
all, and being equally known, leaped without ceremony on the loose boards
that formed a kind of loft overhead, where he soon exchanged his dripping
apparel for a dress suited to the occasion, when he dropped upon the
floor, and strutting up and down, bowed and scraped to the ladies, with
as much ease, if not elegance, as a Bond Street highly-scented exquisite.
Others came in by degrees, ready dressed, and music was called for. My
son, by way of overture, played "Hail Columbia, happy land," then went
on with "La Marseillaise," and ended with "God save the King." Being
merely a spectator, I ensconced myself in a corner, by the side of an
old European gentleman, whom I found an agreeable and well-informed
companion, to admire the decorum of the motley assemblage.

The dancers stood in array, little time having been spent in choosing
partners, and a Canadian accompanying my son on his Cremona, mirth and
joy soon abounded. Dancing is certainly one of the most healthful and
innocent amusements. I have loved it a vast deal more than watching for
the nibble of a trout, and I have sometimes thought enjoying it with an
agreeable female softened my nature as much as the pale pure light of
the moon softens and beautifies a winter night. A maiden lady, who sat
at my side, and who was the only daughter of my talkative companion,
relished my remarks on the subject so much, that the next set saw her
gracing the floor with her tutored feet.

At each pause of the musicians, refreshments were handed round by the
hostess and her son, and I was not a little surprised to see all the
ladies, maids and matrons, swallow, like their sweethearts and husbands,
a full glass of pure rum, with evident pleasure. I should perhaps
have recollected that, in cold climates, a dose of ardent spirits is
not productive of the same effects as in burning latitudes, and that
refinement had not yet induced these healthy and robust dames to affect
a delicacy foreign to their nature.

It was now late, and knowing how much I had to accomplish next day, I
left the party and proceeded towards the shore. My men were sound asleep
in the boat, but in a few moments I was on board the Ripley. My young
friends arrived towards daylight, but many of the fishermen's sons and
daughters kept up the dance, to the music of the Canadian, until after
our breakfast was over.

Although all the females whom I had seen at this ball were perfectly
free from _mauvaise honte_, we were much surprised when some of them,
which we afterwards met in the course of our rambles in the neighbouring
meadows and fields, ran off on seeing us, like gazelles before jackalls.
One bearing a pail of water on her head, dropped it the moment she saw
us, and ran into the woods to hide herself. Another, who was in search
of a cow, on observing us going towards her, took to the water and waded
through an inlet more than waist-deep, after which she made for home with
the speed of a frightened hare. On inquiring the reason of this strange
conduct, the only answer I received from several was a deep blush!

THE MEADOW LARK OR AMERICAN STARLING.

_STURNUS LUDOVICIANUS_, LINN.

PLATE CXXXVI. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.

How could I give the history of this beautiful bird, were I not to return
for a while to the spot where I have found it most abundant, and where
the most frequent opportunities occurred of observing it? Then, reader,
to those rich grass fields let us stray. We are not far from the sandy
sea-shores of the Jerseys; the full beauties of an early spring are
profusely spread around us; the glorious sun illumines the creation with
a flood of golden light, as he yet lies beneath the deep; the industrious
bee is yet asleep, as are the birds in bush and tree; the small wavelets
break on the beach with a gentle murmur; the sky is so beautifully
blue, that, on seeing it, one fancies himself near heaven; the moon is
about to disappear in the distant west; the limpid dew-drops hang on
every leaf, bud and blossom, each tall blade of grass bending under the
weight. Anxious to view Nature at her best, I lie waiting in pleasure
for the next moment:—it has come; all is life and energy; the bee, the
bird, the quadruped, all nature awakes into life, and every being seems
moving in the light of the Divine countenance. Fervently do I praise
the God who has called me into existence, and devotedly do I pursue my
avocations, carefully treading on the tender grass, until I reach a seat
by nature's own hand prepared, when I pause, survey, admire, and essay
to apprehend all—yes, _all_ around me! Delightful days of my youth, when
full of strength, health and gladness, I so often enjoyed the bliss of
contemplating the beauties of creation! They are gone, never to return;
but memory fondly cherishes the thoughts which they called into being,
and while life remains will their memory be pleasing.

See the Lark that arrived last evening! fully refreshed, and with a bosom
overflowing with love towards her who had led him thus far, he rises
from his grassy couch, and on gently whirring pinions launches into the
air, in the glad hope of finding the notes of his beloved fall on his
ear. Females are usually tardy at this early season. I shall not pretend
to tell you why, reader, but that such is the fact, I have been fully
convinced, since the very first feelings of their value was impressed on
my mind. The male is still on the wing; his notes sound loud and clear as
he impatiently surveys the grassy plain beneath him. His beloved is not
there. His heart almost fails him, and, disappointed, he rises towards
the black walnut-tree, under which, during many a summer's heat, the
mowers have enjoyed both their repast and their mid-day rest. I now see
him, not desponding as you might suppose, but vexed and irritated. See
how he spreads his tail, how often he raises his body, how he ejaculates
his surprise, and loudly calls for her whom of all things he best
loves.—Ah!—there comes the dear creature; her timorous, tender notes
announce her arrival. Her mate, her beloved, has felt the charm of her
voice. His wings are spread, and buoyant with gladness, he flies to meet,
to welcome her, anticipating all the bliss prepared for him. Would that
I could interpret to you, reader, as I feel them, the many assurances of
friendship, fidelity and love that at this precious moment pass from the
one to the other, as they place their bills together and chatter their
mutual loves!—the gentle chidings of the male for the sorrow her delay
has caused him, and the sweet words she uses to calm his ardour. Alas!
it were vain to attempt it. I have listened to the talk, it is true;
I have witnessed all their happiness; but I cannot describe it to you.
You, reader, must watch them, as I have done, if you wish to understand
their language. If not, I must try to give you a taste of what I would
willingly impart, were I competent to the task, and proceed to relate
what I have observed of their habits.

When the Meadow Lark first rises from the ground, which it does with
a smart spring, it flutters like a young bird, then proceeds checking
its speed and resuming it in a desultory and uncertain manner, flying
in general straight forward, and glancing behind as if to ascertain
the amount of its danger, but yet affording an easy aim to the most
inexperienced marksman. When pursued for a while, it moves more swiftly,
sailing and beating its wings alternately, until it gets out of reach.
It will not stand before the pointer longer than a moment, and that
only when surprised among rank weeds or grasses. During its migrations,
which are usually performed by day, it rises above the tallest forest
trees, passing along in loose bodies, and not unfrequently in flocks
of from fifty to a hundred individuals. At such times its motions are
continued, and it merely sails at intervals, to enable it to breathe
and renew its exertions. Now and then, one may be seen making directly
towards another, chasing it downwards or horizontally away from the group,
uttering all the time a sharp querulous note, and keeping up the pursuit
for a distance of several hundred yards, when it suddenly abandons it.
Both birds then rejoin the flock, and the party continue their journey
in amity. When flocks thus travelling spy a favourable feeding place,
they gradually descend and alight on some detached tree, when, as if by
one accord, each individual jerks out its tail, springs on its legs, and
utters a loud soft call-note. They then fly successively to the ground,
and immediately proceed in search of food. An old male now and then
erects itself, glances its eye around with anxious scrutiny, and should
danger be perceived, does not fail to inform his party by emitting a
loud rolling note, on hearing which the rest of the flock become alert,
and hold themselves in readiness to depart.

In this manner the Meadow Larks proceed in autumn from the northern parts
of Maine to the State of Louisiana, the Floridas, or Carolinas, where
they abound during the winter. At this season the pine barrens of the
Floridas are filled with them, and after the land has been fired by the
native herdsmen, these birds become as sooty as the sparrows residing in
London. Some were so infested with ticks as to have lost almost all the
feathers off their body, and in general they appeared much smaller than
those of the Atlantic States, probably on account of the deficiency of
their plumage. In the prairies of the Opellousas and those bordering on
the Arkansas River, they are still more abundant. Many of these, however,
retire into the Mexican country at the approach of very severe weather.
They now sleep on the ground among the tall grass, but at a distance of
many yards from each other, in the manner of the Carolina Dove.

At the approach of spring, the flocks break up, the females first
separating. The males then commence their migration, flying in small
flocks, or even sometimes singly. At this season the beauty of their
plumage is much improved, their movements have acquired more grace, their
manner of flight and all their motions when on the ground evidently
shewing how strongly they feel the passion that glows in their bosom.
The male is seen to walk with stately measured steps, jerking out his
tail, or spreading it to its full extent, and then closing it, like a
fan in the hands of some fair damsel. Its loud notes are more melodious
than ever, and are now frequently heard, the bird sitting the while on
the branch of a tree, or the top of some tall weed of the meadows.

Woe to the rival who dares to make his appearance! Nay, should any male
come in sight, he is at once attacked, and, if conquered, chased beyond
the limits of the territory claimed by the first possessor. Several
males may sometimes be seen engaged in fierce conflict, although these
frays seldom last more than a few moments. The sight of a single female
at once changes their occupation, and after her they all fly off as if
mad. The female exhibits the usual timidity of her sex, that timidity
without which, even in Meadow Larks, she would probably fail in finding
a mate. As he flies towards her, uttering the softest of his notes, she
moves off in such a manner that her ardent admirer often seems doubtful
whether she means to repel or encourage him. At length, however, he is
permitted to go nearer, to express by his song and courteous demeanour
the strength and constancy of his passion. She accepts him as her lord,
and in a few days both are seen busily searching for an appropriate spot
in which to rear their young.

At the foot of some tuft of tall strong grass you find the nest. A cavity
is scooped out of the ground, and in it is placed a quantity of grass,
fibrous roots, and other materials; circularly disposed so as to resemble
an oven, around which leaves and the blades of the surrounding grasses
are matted together so as to cover and conceal it. The entrance admits
only one at a time, but both birds incubate. The eggs are four or five,
pure white, sprinkled and blotched with reddish-brown, mostly towards
the larger end. The young are out towards the end of June, and follow
their parents for some weeks afterwards. These birds are unremitting in
their attention towards each other, and in the care of their offspring,
and while the female sits, the male not only supplies her with food,
but constantly comforts her by his song and the watchfulness which he
displays. Should one approach the nest, he immediately rises on wing,
passes and repasses in circles over and around the spot in which the
nest is, and thus frequently leads to the hidden treasure.

Excepting hawks and snakes, the Meadow Lark has few enemies at this
season. The prudent and enlightened farmer, mindful of the benefit his
meadows have received from the destruction of thousands of larvæ, which
might have greatly injured his grass, disturbs it not, and should he
find its nest while cutting his hay, he leaves the tuft in which it is
placed. Even young children seldom destroy this bird or its brood.

It must not, however, be supposed that the Meadow Lark is entirely
harmless. In the Carolinas, many well instructed planters agree in
denouncing it as a depredator, alleging that it scratches up oat seeds
when sown early in spring, and is fond of plucking up the young corn,
the wheat, the rye, or the rice.

In confinement, this bird has another fault, of which I was not aware
until my last visit to Charleston. In February 1834, Dr SAMUEL WILSON of
that city told me that one of the Meadow Larks which he had purchased in
the market, with a number of other birds, ten days previously, had been
found feeding on the body of a Bay-winged Bunting, which it had either
killed, or found dead in the aviary. He said he had watched the bird
more than twenty minutes, and plainly saw that it plunged its bill into
the flesh of the finch to its eyes, and appeared to open and close it
alternately, as if sucking the juices of the flesh. Two days afterwards,
the same Meadow Lark actually killed two other finches that had their
wings clipped, and ate them.

During the latter part of autumn, as well as in winter, this species
affords a good deal of sport, especially to young gunners, some of whom
speak highly of its flesh. This may be true respecting the young, but
the yellow oily appearance of the flesh of the old ones, its toughness,
and the strong smell of insects which it emits, prevent it from being
an agreeable article of food. They are nevertheless offered for sale in
almost all our markets.

In the winter months, this bird frequently associates with the Carolina
Dove, several species of Grakle, and even Partridges, is fond of spending
its time in corn fields after the grain has been gathered, and often
makes its appearance in the cattle-yard of the planters. In Virginia,
it is called the "Old-field Lark."

While on the ground, the Meadow Lark walks well, and much in the manner
of the Grakle and the European Starling, to which it is in some measure
allied. When on the wing, they seldom fly close enough to allow more
than one to be shot at a time. When wounded, they run off with alacrity,
and hide with great care, so as to be found with difficulty. They alight
with equal readiness on trees, on the branches of which they walk with
ease, on fences, and even at times on out-houses. Their food consists
of grass seeds, and grains of almost every sort, along with all kinds of
insects and berries. Although gregarious, they seldom move close together
while on the ground, and, on the report of a gun, you may see perhaps a
hundred of them rise on the wing from different parts of a field. They
are never found in close woods. During winter, the open western prairies
abound with them, and in every corn-field in the State of Kentucky, you
are sure to find them in company with partridges and doves. They now and
then resort to roads, for the purpose of dusting themselves, and move
along the edge of the water in order to bathe.

The plate represents two pairs of these birds, with a nest placed in a
rich cluster of the Yellow Gerardia.

     STURNUS LUDOVICIANUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 290.
     —_Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 323.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops.
     of Birds of the United States, p. 50.

     MEADOW LARK, ALAUDA MAGNA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. iii. p. 20.
     pl. 19. fig. 2.

     AMERICAN STARLING or MEADOW LARK, _Nuttall_, Manual, part i.
     p. 147.

     STURNELLA LUDOVICIANA, CRESCENT STARELET, _Swains. and
     Richards._ Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 282.

Adult Male. Plate CXXXVI. Fig. 1. 1.

Bill rather long, almost straight, strong, conico-subulate, depressed
towards the end; upper mandible encroaching a little on the forehead,
flattish on the ridge, with sharp overlapping edges, the tip rounded;
lower mandible nearly straight, the back convex, the sides ascending,
the edges sharp, the tip slightly rounded, and a little shorter. Nostrils
oval, half-closed by an arched membrane. Head of ordinary size, depressed,
neck of moderate length, body rather full. Feet of moderate length,
strong; tarsus anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; lateral toes nearly
equal, hind toe stoutest, with a large claw; claws arched, compressed,
acute.

Plumage soft, rather compact. The upper eyelid margined with strong
bristles. Feathers of the top of the head with strong shafts. Wings of
ordinary length, broad, the second, third, and fourth primaries longest,
the first longer than the fifth; those mentioned, except the first,
sinuate on the outer web; primaries rather pointed, secondaries broad
and rounded, two of the inner nearly as long as the primaries when the
wing is closed. Tail short, much rounded, of twelve acute feathers.

Bill dark brown above, bluish-grey beneath and on the sides. Iris hazel.
Feet flesh-coloured, tinged with blue. The upper parts are variegated
with dark brown, bay, and light yellowish-brown, the latter bordering
the feathers; those of the hind parts of the back barred, as are the
secondary quills and their coverts. Primary quills dark brown, margined
the outermost with white, the rest with pale brown. The edge of the wing
yellow; the smaller wing-coverts black bordered with grey. The three
outer tail-feathers white, with a dash of black on the outer web near the
end; the next feather also more or less white, and barred on the outer
web. On the upper part of the head are a central and two lateral stripes
of brownish-yellow, separated by two broader stripes of brownish-black;
the lateral stripes are sometimes white tinged with yellow anteriorly.
Sides of the head and neck greyish-white, dotted with dusky, and the
flanks and under tail-coverts are spotted with black; abdomen white,
the rest of the under parts rich yellow, excepting a large crescent of
black on the breast.

Length 11-2/12, extent of wings 16½; bill along the back 1-3/12, along
the edge 1-5/12; tarsus 1¾, middle toe 1-4/8.

Adult Female. Plate CXXXVI. Fig 2. 2.

The Female differs little from the male, the colours being scarcely
paler, but is smaller.

YELLOW-FLOWERED GERARDIA.

     GERARDIA FLAVA, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. iii. p. 223. _Pursh_,
     Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 423.—DIDYNAMIA ANGIOSPERMIA,
     _Linn._ SCROPHULARINÆ, _Juss._

Downy, with the stems nearly undivided, the leaves subsessile, lanceolate,
entire or toothed, the lower incised, the flowers axillary, opposite,
nearly sessile. I found this plant abundant in the meadows of New Jersey,
where it was in full flower at the end of May, the rich yellow blossoms
enlivening the uniform aspect of the plains. It is pretty generally
distributed along the Atlantic coasts, and attains a height of from two
to three feet.

THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT.

_ICTERIA VIRIDIS_, BONAP.

PLATE CXXXVII. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.

This singular bird is extremely plentiful in Louisiana, Georgia, and
the Carolinas, during spring and summer. It arrives in the first of
those States as soon as the blossoms of the dog-wood mark the return
of the vernal season. Many continue their migrations eastward as far
as Connecticut, but beyond this the species is seldom if ever seen. I
have found it equally abundant in Kentucky, particularly in the barrens
of that State; and it ascends the Ohio, spreading over the country, and
extending as far as the borders of Lake Erie in Pennsylvania. It never
enters what is properly called the woods, preferring at all periods
of its short stay with us, the large tangled and almost impenetrable
patches of briars, sumach, prickly ash, and different species of smilax,
wherever a rivulet or a pool may be found.

As in other migratory species, the males precede the females several
days. As soon as they have arrived, they give free vent to their song at
all hours of the day, renewing it at night when the weather is calm, and
the moon shines brightly, seeming intent on attracting the females, by
repeating in many varied tones the ardency of their passion. Sometimes
the sounds are scarcely louder than a whisper, now they acquire strength,
deep guttural notes roll in slow succession as if produced by the emotion
of surprise, then others clear and sprightly glide after each other,
until suddenly, as if the bird had become confused, the voice becomes
a hollow bass. The performer all the while looks as if he were in the
humour of scolding, and moves from twig to twig among the thickets with
so much activity and in so many directions, that the notes reach the
ear as it were from opposite places at the same moment. Now the bird
mounts in the air in various attitudes, with its legs and feet hanging,
while it continues its song and jerks its body with great vehemence,
performing the strangest and most whimsical gesticulations; the next
moment it returns to the bush. If you imitate its song, it follows your
steps with caution, and responds to each of your calls, now and then
peeping at you for a moment, the next quite out of sight. Should you
have a dog, which will enter its briary retreat, it will skip about him,
scold him, and frequently perch, or rise on wing above the thicket, so
that you may easily shoot it.

The arrival of the females is marked by the redoubled exertions of the
males, who now sing as if delirious with the pleasurable sensations they
experience. Before ten days have elapsed, the pairs begin to construct
their nest, which is placed in any sort of bush or briar, seldom more
than six feet from the ground, and frequently not above two or three. It
is large, and composed externally of dry leaves, small sticks, stripes
of vine bark and grasses, the interior being formed of fibrous roots and
horse-hair. The eggs are four or five, of a light flesh colour, spotted
with reddish-brown. In Louisiana and the Carolinas, these birds have
two broods in the season; but in Pennsylvania, where they seldom lay
before the 20th of May, they have only one brood. The eggs are hatched
in twelve days. The male is seldom heard to sing after the breeding
season, and they all depart from the Union by the middle of September.
Their eggs and young are frequently destroyed by snakes, and a species
of insect that feeds on carrion, and burrows in the ground under night.
The young resemble the females, and do not acquire the richness of the
spring plumage while in the Union.

The food of the Yellow-breasted Chat consists of coleopterous insects
and small fruits. They are especially fond of the wild strawberries so
abundant in the Kentucky barrens.

When migrating they move from bush to bush by day, and frequently continue
their march by night, especially should the moon be out and the weather
pleasant. Their flight is short and irregular at all times. When alighted,
they frequently jerk their tail, squat, and spring on their legs, and
are always in a state of great activity. I never observed them chasing
insects on the wing.

I have presented you with several figures of this singular species, to
shew you their positions when on the wing performing their antics in the
love season as well as when alighted. The wild rose branch with the nest,
was cut out of a thicket for the purpose which you see accomplished.

     ICTERIA VIRIDIS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the
     United States, p. 69.

     YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT, PIPRA POLYGLOTTA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
     vol. i. p. 90. pl. 6. fig. 2.

     YELLOW-BREASTED ICTERIA, ICTERIA VIRIDIS, _Nuttall_, Manual,
     part i. p. 299.

Adult Male. Plate CXXXVII. Fig. 1, 1.

Bill of moderate length, strong, slightly arched, broad at the base,
compressed towards the end; upper mandible with the sides convex, the
edges acute, destitute of notch, the tip acute, and a little declinate;
lower mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight, the edge line
slightly arched and inflected. Nostrils rounded, half covered by a
vaulted membrane. The form is rather robust. Legs of moderate length,
slender; tarsus compressed, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; two
lateral toes nearly equal, the hind one not much stouter; claws small,
compressed, acute.

Plumage blended. Wings of moderate length, rounded; third and fourth
primaries longest, second almost equal, first a little shorter. Tail
longish, rounded. Feathers of the throat and breast with a silky gloss.

Bill black, the base of lower mandible blue. Iris hazel. Feet
greyish-blue. The general colour of the upper parts is deep olive-green;
the inner webs of the tail-feathers and quills, and the ends of the
latter, dusky-brown. A line over the eye, a small streak under it, and
a spot at the base of the lower mandible, white. Lore black. Throat and
breast bright yellow, abdomen and under tail-coverts white.

Length 7 inches, extent of wings 9; bill along the ridge 6/12, along
the edge 9/12; tarsus 10/12.

Adult Female. Plate CXXXVII. Fig. 2, 2.

The Female scarcely differs from the male in any perceptible degree,
and is of the same size.

THE SWEET BRIAR.

     ROSA RUBIGINOSA?—ICOSANDRIA POLYGYNIA, _Linn._ ROSACEÆ, _Juss._

The Sweet Briar is very generally distributed in the United States. I
have found it from Louisiana to the extremities of Nova Scotia along
the Atlantic coast, and as far in the interior as I have travelled.
The delicious odour of its leaves never fails to gratify the person who
brushes through patches of it, while the delicate tints of its flowers
reminds one of the loveliness of female beauty in its purest and most
blooming state. Truly a "sweet home" must be the nest that is placed
in an eglantine bower, and happy must be the bird that in the midst of
fragrance is cheered by the warble of her ever loving mate.

THE CONNECTICUT WARBLER.

_SYLVIA AGILIS_, WILS.

PLATE CXXXVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

I procured the pair represented in the Plate, on a fine evening, nearly
at sun-set, at the end of August, on the banks of the Delaware River, in
New Jersey, a few miles below Camden. When I first observed them, they
were hopping and skipping from one low bush to another, and among the
tall reeds of the marsh, emitting an often-repeated _tweet_ at every
move. They were chasing a species of spider which runs nimbly over the
water, and which they caught by gliding over it, as a Swallow does when
drinking. I followed them for about a hundred yards, when, watching a fair
opportunity, I shot both at once. The weather was exceedingly sultry;
and although I outlined both by candle-light that evening, and finished
the drawing of them next morning by breakfast time, they had at that
early hour become putrid, so that their skins could not be preserved. On
opening them I counted upwards of fifty of the spiders mentioned above,
but found no appearance of any other food. The sexual distinction was
very apparent, and the brace proved a pair. They were not in the least
shy, and in fact seemed to take very little notice of me, although at
times I was quite close to them. These being the only individuals I ever
met with, I am of course unable to say where the species breeds, or what
are its migrations.

The plant on which they are placed grew abundantly on the spot where I
procured them; and as they had just alighted on it when I shot them, it
being moreover a handsome species, I thought it best to attach it to them.

     SYLVIA AGILIS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United
     States, p. 84.

     CONNECTICUT WARBLER, SYLVIA AGILIS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. v.
     p. 64. pl. 39. fig. 4.—_Nuttall_, Manual, part i. p. 399.

Adult Male, Plate CXXXVIII, Fig. 1.

Bill short, straight, conico-subulate, acute; nostrils basal, lateral,
oval, exposed; head of moderate size; neck short, body rather slender;
feet of moderate length; tarsus slender, compressed, scutellate before,
sharp behind; toes free, the lateral equal, the hind one not much
stronger; claws arched, slender, much compressed, acute.

Plumage soft and blended, with little gloss; wings rather short, the
first and second quills longest; tail of moderate length, rounded, and
emarginate.

Bill light-brown on the ridge and tips, flesh-coloured beneath. Iris
hazel. Legs pale flesh-coloured. The general colour above is rich
olive-green, the concealed parts of the quills and tail dusky-brown;
eye margined with a ring of yellowish-white; throat ash-grey, the rest
of the under parts dull greenish-yellow, excepting the sides, under the
wings, which are olive-green.

Length 5¾ inches, extent of wings 8; bill along the ridge 4/12, along
the edge 6½/12; tarsus 10/12.

Adult Female, Plate CXXXVIII, Fig. 2.

The Female resembles the male in the upper parts, but the throat is
greenish-yellow, and the rest of the under parts somewhat less richly
coloured than those of the male.

     GENTIANA SAPONARIA, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. i. p. 1388. _Pursh_,
     Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 185.—PENTANDRIA DIGYNIA, _Linn._
     GENTIANEÆ, _Juss._

Stem round, smooth; leaves oblongo-lanceolate, three nerved; flowers
sessile, tufted, terminal and axillar; corolla quinquefid, campanulate,
ventricose, with the divisions obtuse, the internal plaits with toothed
segments. It grows in meadows and woods, from Canada to Carolina,
flowering in August and September.

THE FIELD SPARROW.

_FRINGILLA PUSILLA_, WILS.

PLATE CXXXIX. ADULT.

This diminutive and elegant species of Finch may certainly be ranked
among our constant residents, numerous individuals remaining during the
winter within the limits of the Union. In Louisiana and the countries
along the Mississippi, as far as Kentucky, and in all the Southern
States, as far as Maryland, they are to be found in the coldest weather.
In South Carolina they are met with along every hedge-row and in every
briar-patch, as well as in the old fields slightly covered with tall
slender grasses, on the seeds of which they chiefly subsist during the
inclement season. Loose flocks, sometimes of forty or fifty, are seen
hopping along the sandy roads, picking up particles of gravel. On the
least alarm, they all take to wing, and alight on the nearest bushes, but
the next moment return to the ground. They leave the south as early as
March, move northwards as the season advances, and appear in the States
of New York and Pennsylvania, about the middle of April.

The song of the Field Sparrow is remarkable, although not fine. It trills
its notes like a young Canary Bird, and now and then emits emphatical,
though not very distinct sounds of some length. One accustomed to
distinguish the notes of different birds can easily recognise the song
of this species; but the description of it, I confess, I am unable to
accomplish, so at least as to afford you any tolerable idea of it.

It is a social and peaceable bird. When the breeding season is at hand
they disperse, move off in pairs, and throw themselves into old pasture
grounds, overgrown with low bushes, on the tops of which the males may be
heard practising their vocal powers. They usually breed on the ground,
at the foot of a small bush or rank-weed; but I have also found several
of their nests on the lower branches of trees, a foot or two from the
ground. The nest is simple, formed chiefly of fine dry grasses, in some
instances scantily lined with horse-hair or delicate fibrous roots, much
resembling hair. The eggs are from four to six, of a light ferruginous
tint, produced by the blending of small dots of that colour. So prolific
is this species, that I have observed a pair raise three broods in one
summer, the amount of individuals produced being fifteen. The young
run after their parents, leaving the nest before they can fly, and are
left to shift for themselves ere they are fully fledged; but as they
find every where abundance of insects, berries, and small seeds, they
contrive to get on without help.

These birds are fond of orchards, enter our country towns in autumn,
alight on the tallest trees in open woods, and migrate solely by day.
Their flight is rapid, even, and occasionally sustained; for, when fairly
alarmed, they move at once over fields of considerable extent.

I saw few in Maine, and none in the British provinces, in Labrador or
in Newfoundland.

The colour of the bill varies with the seasons, being in winter of a
dingy reddish-brown, and in summer assuming a tint approaching to orange.
There is no perceptible difference in the size or colour of the sexes.
The young acquire their full plumage the first autumn.

Travelling from Great Egg Harbour towards Philadelphia, I found a nest
of this species placed at the foot of a bush growing in almost pure
sand. Near it were the plants which you see accompanying the figure.

     FRINGILLA PUSILLA, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the
     United States, p. 110.

     FIELD SPARROW, FRINGILLA PUSILLA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. ii.
     p. 121. pl. 16. fig. 2.

     FIELD OR RUSH SPARROW, FRINGILLA JUNCORUM, _Nuttall_, Manual,
     part i. p. 499.

Adult Male, Plate CXXXIX.

Bill short, rather small, strong, conical, acute; upper mandible rather
narrower than the lower, very slightly declinate at the tip, rounded on
the sides, as is the lower, which has the edges inflected and acute; the
gap-line very slightly arched, slightly deflected at the base. Nostrils
basal, roundish, partially concealed by the feathers. The general form
rather robust. Legs of moderate length, slender; tarsus longer than
the middle toe, covered anteriorly with a few longish scutella; toes
scutellate above, free, the lateral ones nearly equal; claws slender,
slightly arched, that of the hind toe scarcely larger, much compressed,
acute.

Plumage soft, blended, rather compact on the back; wings shortish,
curved, rounded, the third quill longest, the second and fourth scarcely
shorter; tail long, emarginate.

This species, in size and general appearance, is very closely allied to
the Chipping Sparrow (see p. 21. of the present volume.)

Bill reddish-brown or cinnamon-colour. Iris chestnut. Feet pale
yellowish-brown. Upper part of the head chestnut; anterior portion of
the back and scapulars of the same tint, but marked with blackish-brown
spots, the middle part of each feather being of that colour; sides of
the neck pale bluish-grey, and a line of the same over the eye; rump and
tail yellowish-grey, the inner webs of the latter light-brown; quills and
coverts blackish-brown, margined with whitish, the two rows of coverts
slightly tipped with brownish-white; the under parts are greyish-white;
the sides of the neck and fore part of the breast tinged with chestnut.

Length 6 inches, extent of wings 8; bill along the back ¼, along the
edge 5/12.

The Female is rather less, and somewhat duller beneath, but in other
respects is precisely similar.

     CALOPOGON PULCHELLUS, _Brown_—CYMBIDIUM PULCHELLUM, _Willd._
     Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 105. _Pursh_, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 592.
     —GYNANDRIA MONANDRIA, _Linn._ ORCHIDEÆ, _Juss._

Root tuberous, of an oblong form; radical leaves linear-lanceolate,
nerved; scape few-flowered; lip at the back clawed, the inside bearded;
five distinct petals of a light purplish-red. It grows in sandy soils
from Maine to the Floridas; I have not observed it in the more Southern
or Western States.

THE DWARF HUCKLE-BERRY.

     VACCINIUM TENELLUM, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 353. _Pursh_,
     Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 289.—DECANDRIA MONOGYNIA, _Linn._
     ERICÆ, _Juss._

The branches angular, green; leaves sessile, ovato-lanceolate, mucronate,
serrulate, glossy on both sides; flowers in sessile clusters; corolla
ovate. This plant grows in most of the lands of the Middle and Eastern
Districts, both in woods and in open places. Its berries are eaten by
various birds, as well as by children.

THE PINE CREEPING WARBLER.

_SYLVIA PINUS_, LATH.

PLATE CXL. MALE AND FEMALE.

The Pine Creeping Warbler, the most abundant of its tribe, is met with
from Louisiana to Maine, more profusely in the warmer, and more sparingly
in the colder regions, breeding wherever fir or pine trees are to be
found. Although it may occasionally be seen on other trees, yet it
always prefers those of that remarkable and interesting tribe. I found
it on the sandy barrens bordering St John's River, in East Florida, in
full song, early in February. I am pretty certain that they had already
formed nests at that early period, and it seems to me not unlikely that
this species, as well as some others that breed in that country at the
same time, may afterwards travel far to the eastward, and there rear
another brood the same year.

In some degree allied to the Certhiæ in its habits, it is often seen
ascending the trunks and larger branches of trees, hopping against the
bark, in search of the larvæ that lurk there. At times it moves sidewise
along a branch three or four steps, and turning about, goes on in the same
manner, until it has reached a twig, which it immediately examines. Its
restless activity is quite surprising: now it gives chase to an insect
on wing; now, it is observed spying out those more diminutive species
concealed among the blossoms and leaves of the pines; again, it leaves
the topmost branches of a tree, flies downwards, and alights sidewise
on the trunk of another, which it ascends, changing its position, from
right to left, at every remove. It also visits the ground in quest of
food, and occasionally betakes itself to the water, to drink or bathe.

It is seldom that an individual is seen by itself going through its
course of action, for a kind of sympathy seems to exist in a flock, and
in autumn and winter especially, thirty or more may be observed, if not
on the same tree, at least not far from each other. Although it feeds
on insects, larvæ, and occasionally small crickets, it seems to give a
decided preference to a little red insect of the coleopterous order, which
is found inclosed in the leaves or stipules of the pine. Low lands seem
to suit it best, for it is much less numerous in mountainous countries
than in those bordering the sea.

Like many other birds, the Pine Creeping Warbler constructs its nest
of different materials, nay even makes it of a different form, in the
Southern and Eastern States. In the Carolinas, for instance, it is
usually placed among the dangling fibres of the Spanish moss, with less
workmanship and less care, than in the Jerseys, the State of New York,
or that of Maine. In the latter, as well as in Massachusetts, where it
breeds about the middle of June, it places its nest at a great height,
sometimes fifty feet, attaching it to the twigs of a forked branch.
Here the nest is small, thin but compact, composed of the slender stems
of dried grasses mixed with coarse fibrous roots and the exuviæ of
caterpillars or other insects, and lined with the hair of the deer, moose,
racoon, or other animals, delicate fibrous roots, wool, and feathers.
The eggs, which are from four to six, have a very light sea-green tint,
all over sprinkled with small pale reddish-brown dots, of which there
is a thicker circle near the larger end. In these districts, it seldom
breeds more than once in the season, whereas in the Carolinas, Georgia,
and the Floridas, where it is a constant resident, it usually has two,
sometimes three, broods in the year, and its eggs are deposited on
the first days of April, fully a month earlier than in the State above
mentioned.

Its flight is short, and exhibits undulating curves of considerable
elegance. It migrates entirely by day, flying from tree to tree, and
seldom making a longer flight than is necessary for crossing a river. The
song is monotonous, consisting at times merely of a continued tremulous
sound, which may be represented by the letters _Trr-rr-rr-rr_. During
the love season, this is changed into a more distinct sound, resembling
_twĕ, twĕ, tĕ, tĕ, tē, tēē_. It sings at all hours of the day, even in
the heat of summer noon, when the woodland songsters are usually silent.

It is a hardy bird, seldom abandoning the most northern of the Eastern
States until the middle of October. I saw none beyond the Province of
New Brunswick, and Professor MACCULLOCH of Pictou had not observed it
in Nova Scotia. In Newfoundland and Labrador I did not see a single
individual.

I have placed a pair of these birds on a branch of their favourite pine;
but the colouring of the male is not so brilliant as it is in spring
and summer, the individual represented having been drawn in Louisiana
in the winter, where, as well as in the Carolinas, the Floridas, and
all the Southern Districts, it is a constant resident.

     SYLVIA PINUS, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 537.—_Ch.
     Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 81.

     PINE CREEPING WARBLER, SYLVIA PINUS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
     vol. iii. p. 25. pl. 19. fig. 4.

     PINE WARBLER, SYLVIA PINUS, _Nuttall_, Manual, part i. p. 387.

Adult Male. Plate CXL. Fig. 1.

Bill shortish, nearly straight, subulato-conical, rather depressed at
the base, compressed towards the end, acute, the edges sharp, with a
very slight notch close to the tip. Nostrils basal, lateral, elliptical,
half-closed by a membrane. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather
slender. Feet of ordinary length, slender; tarsus compressed, anteriorly
scutellate, sharp behind; toes free, the hind toe of moderate size, the
lateral toes nearly equal; claws slender, compressed, arched acute.

Plumage soft blended. Wings rather long, second quill longest, first and
third scarcely shorter. Tail rather long, emarginate. Distinct bristles
at the base of the bill.

Bill brownish-black. Iris hazel. Feet dusky. The general colour of the
upper parts is yellowish-green inclining to olive, the rump lighter;
throat, sides and breast, greenish-yellow, the sides of the latter
spotted with greenish-brown, belly white. Wings and tail blackish-brown,
with greyish-white margins; the secondary coverts and first row of small
coverts tipped with white, forming two bars across the wing.

Length 5¼ inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the back 5½/12, along
the sides ¾; tarsus ¾.

Adult Female. Plate CXL. Fig. 2.

On the upper parts the female is greyish-brown, tinged with olive, the
lower parts paler than in the male. In other respects, the differences
are not remarkable.

Length 5, extent of wings 8.

THE YELLOW PINE.

     PINUS VARIABILIS, _Pursh_, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 643.
     —P. MITIS, _Michaux_, Arbr. Forest. vol. i. p. 52. pl. 3.—MONŒCIA
     MONADELPHIA, _Linn._ CONIFERÆ, _Juss._

This species is known by various names:—Long-leaved Pine, Yellow Pine,
Red Pine, and Pitch Pine. It attains a height of a hundred feet, and
has a diameter of four. The leaves are very long, three in a sheath,
and fasciculate at the ends of the branches. It is very abundant in
the Southern States, where it is employed for various purposes, more
especially for the inclosure of cultivated fields, and for ship-building
and domestic architecture. Most of the tar of the Southern States is
obtained from this tree.

THE LIVE-OAKERS.

The greater part of the forests of East Florida principally consists
of what in that country are called "Pine Barrens." In these districts,
the woods are rather thin, and the only trees that are seen in them are
tall pines of rather indifferent quality, beneath which is a growth of
rank grass, here and there mixed with low bushes and sword palmettoes.
The soil is of a sandy nature, mostly flat, and consequently either
covered with water during the rainy season, or parched in the summer and
autumn, although you meet at times with ponds of stagnant water, where
the cattle, which are abundant, allay their thirst, and around which
resort the various kinds of game found in these wilds.

The traveller, who has pursued his course for many miles over the
barrens, is suddenly delighted to see in the distance the appearance of
a dark "hummock" of live oaks and other trees, seeming as if they had
been planted in the wilderness. As he approaches, the air feels cooler
and more salubrious, the song of numerous birds delights his ear, the
herbage assumes a more luxuriant appearance, the flowers become larger
and brighter, and a grateful fragrance is diffused around. These objects
contribute to refresh his mind, as much as the sight of the waters of
some clear spring, gliding among the undergrowth, seems already to allay
his thirst. Over head festoons of innumerable vines, jessamines, and
bignonias, link each tree with those around it, their slender stems being
interlaced as if in mutual affection. No sooner, in the shade of these
beautiful woods, has the traveller finished his mid-day repast, than
he perceives small parties of men lightly accoutred, and each bearing
an axe, approaching towards his resting place. They exchange the usual
civilities, and immediately commence their labours, for they too have
just finished their meal.

I think I see them proceeding to their work. Here two have stationed
themselves on the opposite sides of the trunk of a noble and venerable
live-oak. Their keen-edged and well-tempered axes seem to make no
impression on it, so small are the chips that drop at each blow around
the mossy and wide-spreading roots. There, one is ascending the stem of
another, of which, in its fall, the arms have stuck among the tangled tops
of the neighbouring trees. See how cautiously he proceeds, barefooted,
and with a handkerchief round his head. Now he has climbed to the height
of about forty feet from the ground; he stops, and squaring himself
with the trunk on which he so boldly stands, he wields with sinewy arms
his trusty blade, the repeated blows of which, although the tree be as
tough as it is large, will soon sever it in two. He has changed sides,
and his back is turned to you. The trunk now remains connected by only
a thin stripe of wood. He places his feet on the part which is lodged,
and shakes it with all his might. Now swings the huge log under his
leaps, now it suddenly gives way, and as it strikes upon the ground its
echoes are repeated through the hummock, and every wild turkey within
hearing utters his gobble of recognition. The wood-cutter, however,
remains collected and composed; but the next moment, he throws his axe
to the ground, and, assisted by the nearest grape-vine, slides down and
reaches the earth in an instant.

Several men approach and examine the prostrate trunk. They cut at both
its extremities, and sound the whole of its bark, to enable them to judge
if the tree has been attacked by the white rot. If such has unfortunately
been the case, there, for a century or more, this huge log will remain
until it gradually crumbles; but if not, and if it is free of injury or
"wind-shakes," while there is no appearance of the sap having already
ascended, and its pores are altogether sound, they proceed to take its
measurement. Its shape ascertained, and the timber that is fit for use
laid out by the aid of models, which, like fragments of the skeleton of
a ship, shew the forms and sizes required, the "hewers" commence their
labours. Thus, reader, perhaps every known hummock in the Floridas is
annually attacked, and so often does it happen that the white-rot or some
other disease has deteriorated the quality of the timber, that the woods
may be seen strewn with trunks that have been found worthless, so that
every year these valuable oaks are becoming scarcer. The destruction of
the young trees of this species caused by the fall of the great trunks
is of course immense, and as there are no artificial plantations of
these trees in our country, before long a good sized live-oak will be so
valuable that its owner will exact an enormous price for it, even while
it yet stands in the wood. In my opinion, formed on personal observation,
Live-oak Hummocks are _not quite_ so plentiful as they are represented
to be, and of this I will give you _one_ illustration.

On the 25th of February 1832, I happened to be far up the St John's River
in East Florida, in the company of a person employed by our government
in protecting the live-oaks of that section of the country, and who
received a good salary for his trouble. While we were proceeding along
one of the banks of that most singular stream, my companion pointed out
some large hummocks of dark-leaved trees on the opposite side, which he
said were entirely formed of live-oaks. I thought differently, and as
our controversy on the subject became a little warm, I proposed that our
men should row us to the place, where we might examine the leaves and
timber, and so decide the point. We soon landed, but after inspecting
the woods, not a single tree of the species did we find, although there
were thousands of large "swamp-oaks." My companion acknowledged his
mistake, and I continued to search for birds.

One dark evening as I was seated on the banks of the same river,
considering what arrangements I should make for the night, as it began
to rain in torrents, a man who happened to see me, came up and invited
me to go to his cabin, which he said was not far off. I accepted his
kind offer, and followed him to his humble dwelling. There I found his
wife, several children, and a number of men, who, as my host told me,
were, like himself, Live-Oakers. Supper was placed on a large table,
and on being desired to join the party, I willingly assented, doing my
best to diminish the contents of the tin pans and dishes set before the
company by the active and agreeable housewife. We then talked of the
country, its climate and productions, until a late hour, when we laid
ourselves down on bears' skins, and reposed till day-break.

I longed to accompany these hardy wood-cutters to the hummock where they
were engaged in preparing live-oak timber for a man of war. Provided with
axes and guns, we left the house to the care of the wife and children,
and proceeded for several miles through a pine-barren, such as I have
attempted to describe. One fine wild Turkey was shot, and when we arrived
at the _Shantee_ put up near the hummock, we found another party of
wood-cutters waiting our arrival, before eating their breakfast, already
prepared by a Negro man, to whom the turkey was consigned to be roasted
for part of that day's dinner.

Our repast was an excellent one, and vied with a Kentucky breakfast:
beef, fish, potatoes, and other vegetables, were served up, with coffee
in tin cups, and plenty of biscuit. Every man seemed hungry and happy,
and the conversation assumed the most humorous character. The sun now
rose above the trees, and all, excepting the cook, proceeded to the
hummock, on which I had been gazing with great delight, as it promised
rare sport. My host, I found, was the chief of the party; and although
he also had an axe, he made no other use of it than for stripping here
and there pieces of bark from certain trees which he considered of
doubtful soundness. He was not only well versed in his profession, but
generally intelligent, and from him I received the following account,
which I noted at the time.

The men who are employed in cutting the live oak, after having discovered
a good hummock, build shantees of small logs, to retire to at night,
and feed in by day. Their provisions consist of beef, pork, potatoes,
biscuit, flour, rice, and fish, together with excellent whisky. They are
mostly hale, strong, and active men, from the eastern parts of the Union,
and receive excellent wages, according to their different abilities.
Their labours are only of a few months' duration. Such hummocks as are
found near navigable streams are first chosen, and when it is absolutely
necessary, the timber is sometimes hauled five or six miles to the nearest
water-course, where, although it sinks, it can, with comparative ease,
be shipped to its destination. The best time for cutting the live oak is
considered to be from the first of December to the beginning of March,
or while the sap is completely down. When the sap is flowing, the tree
is "bloom," and more apt to be "shaken." The white-rot, which occurs so
frequently in the live-oak, and is perceptible only by the best judges,
consists of round spots, about an inch and a half in diameter, on the
outside of the bark, through which, at that spot, a hard stick may be
driven several inches, and generally follows the heart up or down the
trunk of the tree. So deceiving are these spots and trees to persons
unacquainted with this defect, that thousands of trees are cut and
afterwards abandoned. The great number of trees of this sort strewn in
the woods would tend to make a stranger believe that there is much more
good oak in the country than there really is; and perhaps, in reality,
not more than one-fourth of the quantity usually reported, is to be
procured.

The Live-oakers generally revisit their distant homes in the Middle and
Eastern Districts, where they spend the summer, returning to the Floridas
at the approach of winter. Some, however, who have gone there with their
families, remain for years in succession; although they suffer much from
the climate, by which their once good constitutions are often greatly
impaired. This was the case with the individual above mentioned, from
whom I subsequently received much friendly assistance in my pursuits.

THE GOSHAWK.

_FALCO PALUMBARIUS_, LINN.

PLATE CXLI. ADULT MALE AND YOUNG MALE (WITH ADULT STANLEY HAWK).

The Goshawk is of rare occurrence in most parts of the United States, and
the districts of North America to which it usually retires to breed are
as yet unknown. Some individuals nestle within the Union, others in the
British provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, but the greater part
seem to proceed farther north. I saw none, however, in Labrador, but was
informed that they are plentiful in the wooded parts of Newfoundland. On
returning from the north, they make their appearance in the Middle States
about the beginning of September, and after that season range to very
great distances. I have found them rather abundant in the lower parts
of Kentucky and Indiana, and in severe winters I have seen a few even in
Louisiana. In the Great Pine Forest of Pennsylvania, and at the Falls of
Niagara, I have observed them breeding. During autumn and winter, they
are common in Maine, as well as in Nova Scotia, where I have seen six or
seven specimens that were procured by a single person in the course of
a season. At Pictou, Professor MACCULLOCH shewed me about a dozen well
mounted specimens of both sexes, and of different ages, which he had
procured in the neighbourhood. In that country, they prey on hares, the
Canada Grous, the Ruffed Grous, and Wild Ducks. In Maine, they are so
daring as to come to the very door of the farmer's house, and carry off
chickens and ducks with such rapidity as generally to elude all attempts
to shoot them. When residing in Kentucky I shot a great number of these
birds, particularly, one cold winter, near Henderson, when I killed a
dozen or more on the ice in Canoe Creek, where I generally surprised
them by approaching the deep banks of that stream with caution, and not
unfrequently almost above them, when their escape was rendered rather
difficult. They there caught mallards with ease, and after killing them
turned them belly upwards, and ate only the flesh of the breast, pulling
the feathers with great neatness, and throwing them round the bird, as
if it had been plucked by the hand of man.

The flight of the Goshawk is extremely rapid and protracted. He sweeps
along the margins of the fields, through the woods, and by the edges of
ponds and rivers, with such speed as to enable him to seize his prey
by merely deviating a few yards from his course, assisting himself on
such occasions by his long tail, which, like a rudder, he throws to the
right or left, upwards or downwards, to check his progress, or enable him
suddenly to alter his course. At times he passes like a meteor through
the underwood, where he secures squirrels and hares with ease. Should
a flock of Wild Pigeons pass him when on these predatory excursions, he
immediately gives chase, soon overtakes them, and forcing his way into
the very centre of the flock, scatters them in confusion, when you may
see him emerging with a bird in his talons, and diving towards the depth
of the forest to feed upon his victim. When travelling, he flies high,
with a constant beat of the wings, seldom moving in large circles like
other hawks, and when he does this, it is only a few times in a hurried
manner, after which he continues his journey.

Along the Atlantic coast, this species follows the numerous flocks of
ducks that are found there during autumn and winter, and greatly aids in
the destruction of Mallards, Teals, Black Ducks, and other species, in
company with the Peregrine Falcon. It is a restless bird, apparently more
vigilant and industrious than many other Hawks, and seldom alights unless
to devour its prey; nor can I recollect ever having seen one alighted
for many minutes at a time, without having a bird in its talons. When
thus engaged with its prey, it stands nearly upright, and in general,
when perched, it keeps itself more erect than most species of Hawk. It
is extremely expert at catching Snipes on the wing, and so well do these
birds know their insecurity, that, on his approach, they prefer squatting.

When the Passenger Pigeons are abundant in the western country, the
Goshawk follows their close masses, and subsists upon them. A single
hawk suffices to spread the greatest terror among their ranks, and the
moment he sweeps towards a flock, the whole immediately dive into the
deepest woods, where, notwithstanding their great speed, the marauder
succeeds in clutching the fattest. While travelling along the Ohio, I
observed several Hawks of this species in the train of millions of these
Pigeons. Towards the evening of the same day, I saw one abandoning its
course, to give chase to a large flock of Crow Blackbirds (_Quiscalus
versicolor_), then crossing the river. The Hawk approached them with the
swiftness of an arrow, when the Blackbirds rushed together so closely that
the flock looked like a dusky ball passing through the air. On reaching
the mass, he, with the greatest ease, seized first one, then another,
and another, giving each a squeeze with his talons, and suffering it to
drop upon the water. In this manner, he had procured four or five before
the poor birds reached the woods, into which they instantly plunged,
when he gave up the chase, swept over the water in graceful curves, and
picked up the fruits of his industry, carrying each bird singly to the
shore. Reader, is this instinct or reason?

The nest of the Goshawk is placed on the branches of a tree, near the
trunk or main stem. It is of great size, and resembles that of our Crow,
or some species of Owl, being constructed of withered twigs and coarse
grass, with a lining of fibrous stripes of plants resembling hemp. It
is, however, much flatter than that of the Crow. In one I found, in the
month of April, three eggs, ready to be hatched; they were of a dull
bluish-white, sparingly spotted with light reddish-brown. In another,
which I found placed on a pine-tree, growing on the eastern rocky bank
of the Niagara River, a few miles below the Great Cataract, the lining
was formed of withered herbaceous plants, with a few feathers, and the
eggs were four in number, of a white colour, tinged with greenish-blue,
large, much rounded, and somewhat granulated. In another nest were four
young birds, covered with buff-coloured down, their legs and feet of a
pale yellowish flesh-colour, the bill light-blue, and the eyes pale-grey.
They differed greatly in size, one being quite small compared with the
rest. I am of opinion that few breed to the south of the State of Maine.

The variations of plumage exhibited by the Goshawk are numerous. I
have seen some with horizontal bars, of a large size on the breast, and
blotches of white on the back and shoulders, while others had the first
of these parts covered with delicate transverse lines, the shaft of each
feather being deep brown or black, and were of a plain cinereous tint
above. The young, which at first have but few scattered dashes of brown
beneath, are at times thickly mottled with that, and each feather of
the back and wings is broadly edged with dull white.

My opinion respecting the identity of the American Goshawk and that of
Europe, is still precisely the same as it was four years ago, when I wrote
a paper on the subject, which was published in the Edinburgh Journal of
Natural and Geographical Science. I regret differing on this point from
such accomplished ornithologists as my excellent friend Prince CHARLES
BONAPARTE and M. TEMMINCK; but, after due consideration, I cannot help
thinking these birds the same.

The figure of the adult was drawn at Henderson, in Kentucky, many years
ago. That of the young bird was taken from a specimen shot in the Great
Pine Forest in Pennsylvania.

     FALCO PALUMBARIUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 130.—_Lath._
     Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 29.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds
     of the United States, p. 28.

     ACCIPITER (ASTUR) PALUMBARIUS, _Swains. and Richards._ Fauna
     Bor.-Americ. part ii. p. 39.

     ASH-COLOURED OR BLACK-CAPPED HAWK, FALCO ATRICAPILLUS, _Wils._
     Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 80. pl. 5. Fig. 3.—AMERICAN GOSHAWK,
     _Nuttall_, Manual, part i. p. 85.

Adult Male. Plate CXLI. Fig. 1.

Bill short, nearly as deep as broad at the base, the tip trigonal, very
acute and decurved; upper mandible with the dorsal outline convex from the
base, the ridge rounded, the sides convex, the edges acute, overlapping,
and slightly festooned; lower mandible a little deflected towards the
tip, which is broadly rounded. Head large, neck short, body robust.
Legs longish, the tibia long, the tarsus rounded, anteriorly scutellate,
scaly on the sides, tubercular and scabrous beneath; the fore-toes with
a slight web at the base; claws roundish, curved, extremely acute, that
of the inner toe as large as the claw of the hind one.

Plumage compact. Wings reaching to the middle of the tail, the fourth
quill longest, the first and eighth equal. Tail long, nearly even, of
twelve broad feathers. Tarsus feathered more than one-third down.

Bill black, light blue at the base; cere greenish-yellow; eye-brow
greenish-blue. Iris reddish-orange. Feet yellow. The general colour of
the upper parts is dark ash-grey; the upper part of the head and the
ear-coverts are greyish-black; a broad line of white over each eye; a
central line on each feather black, as is the case with those of the
neck and back; under parts greyish-white; the sides and abdomen tinged
with brown; fore-neck longitudinally marked with blackish-brown streaks;
the breast, sides, and belly transversely barred with blackish-grey,
and longitudinally lined with black; tail with five broad bands of
brownish-black, the terminal band much broader; the extreme tips whitish.

Length 24 inches, extent of wings 47. Weight 2½ lb.

Young Male. Plate CXLI. Fig. 2.

Bill as in the adult. Iris light-yellow. Feet greenish-yellow. The
general colour of the upper parts is light reddish-brown, largely spotted
with brownish-black; on the upper part of the head, the margins of the
feathers are brownish-red, and the black predominates; a broad band
of white over each eye. Quills lightish-brown, barred with a darker
colour; tail brownish-grey, banded with brownish-black; ear-coverts
brownish, streaked with black, as is the throat; fore-neck and breast
pale reddish-brown, the former marked with small oblong spots of dark
brown, the latter with large ovate, acuminate spots of a deeper tint;
the shafts black; the short tarsal feathers similarly spotted.

Length 21½ inches; extent of wings 46.

The Female agrees with the Male in external appearance, but is
considerably larger.

STANLEY HAWK. FALCO STANLEII, _Audub._

An Adult Female and a Young Male of this species have been represented
in Plate XXXVI. of my American Birds, and the figure of an Adult Male is
here introduced, for the purpose of being compared with the Goshawk. The
form is the same in both, and in the colouring of the upper parts there
is little difference; but the size is much less, and the breast is marked
with light-brown arrow-shaped spots, and large irregular transverse bars,
differing greatly from the markings of the Goshawk. Other differences
are perceptible, especially in the colour of the ear-coverts; but as
this specimen has been described at page 189 of the first volume, and
as a glance at the figures in the plate will convey more intelligence
than words could do, it is quite unnecessary to say more here.

THE AMERICAN SPARROW-HAWK.

_FALCO SPARVERIUS_, LINN.

PLATE CXLII. MALE AND FEMALE.

We have few more beautiful hawks in the United States than this active
little species, and I am sure, none half so abundant. It is found in every
district from Louisiana to Maine, as well as from the Atlantic shores to
the western regions. Every one knows the Sparrow-Hawk, the very mention
of its name never fails to bring to mind some anecdote connected with
its habits, and, as it commits no depredations on poultry, few disturb
it, so that the natural increase of the species experiences no check from
man. During the winter months especially it may be seen in the Southern
States about every old field, orchard, barn-yard, or kitchen-garden,
but seldom indeed in the interior of the forest.

Beautifully erect, it stands on the highest fence-stake, the broken
top of a tree, the summit of a grain stack, or the corner of the barn,
patiently and silently waiting until it spy a mole, a field-mouse, a
cricket, or a grasshopper, on which to pounce. If disappointed in its
expectation, it leaves its stand and removes to another, flying low
and swiftly until within a few yards of the spot on which it wishes to
alight, when all of a sudden, and in the most graceful manner, it rises
towards it and settles with incomparable firmness of manner, merely
suffering its beautiful tail to vibrate gently for a while, its wings
being closed with the swiftness of thought. Its keen eye perceives
something beneath, when down it darts, secures the object in its talons,
returns to its stand, and devours its prey piece by piece. This done,
the little hunter rises in the air, describes a few circles, moves on
directly, balances itself steadily by a tremulous motion of its wings,
darts towards the earth, but, as if disappointed, checks its course,
reascends and proceeds. Some unlucky finch crosses the field beneath
it. The Hawk has marked it, and, anxious to secure its prize, sweeps
after it; the chase is soon ended, for the poor affrighted and panting
bird becomes the prey of the ruthless hunter, who, unconscious of wrong,
carries it off to some elevated branch of a tall tree, plucks it neatly,
tears the flesh asunder, and having eaten all that it can pick, allows
the skeleton and wings to fall to the ground, where they may apprise
the traveller that a murder has been committed.

Thus, reader, are the winter months spent by this little marauder. When
spring returns to enliven the earth, each male bird seeks for its mate,
whose coyness is not less innocent than that of the gentle dove. Pursued
from place to place, the female at length yields to the importunity of
her dear tormenter, when side by side they sail, screaming aloud their
love notes, which if not musical, are doubtless at least delightful to
the parties concerned. With tremulous wings they search for a place in
which to deposit their eggs secure from danger, and now they have found
it.

On that tall mouldering headless trunk, the hawks have alighted side by
side. See how they caress each other! Mark! The female enters the deserted
Woodpecker's hole, where she remains some time measuring its breadth and
depth. Now she appears, exultingly calls her mate, and tells him there
could not be a fitter place. Full of joy they gambol through the air,
chase all intruders away, watch the Grakles and other birds to which the
hole might be equally pleasing, and so pass the time, until the female
has deposited her eggs, six, perhaps even seven in number, round, and
beautifully spotted. The birds sit alternately, each feeding the other
and watching with silent care. After a while the young appear, covered
with white down. They grow apace, and now are ready to go abroad, when
their parents entice them forth. Some launch into the air at once, others,
not so strong, now and then fall to the ground; but all continue to be
well provided with food, until they are able to shift for themselves.
Together they search for grasshoppers, crickets, and such young birds
as, less experienced than themselves, fall an easy prey. The family
still resort to the same field, each bird making choice of a stand, the
top of a tree, or that of the Great Mullein. At times they remove to the
ground, then fly off in a body, separate, and again betake themselves to
their stands. Their strength increases, their flight improves, and the
field-mouse seldom gains her retreat before the little Falcon secures
it for a meal.

The trees, of late so richly green, now disclose the fading tints of
autumn; the cricket becomes mute, the grasshopper withers on the fences,
the mouse retreats to her winter quarters, dismal clouds obscure the
eastern horizon, the sun assumes a sickly dimness, hoarfrosts cover the
ground, and the long night encroaches on the domains of light. No longer
are heard the feathered choristers of the woods, who throng towards more
congenial climes, and in their rear rushes the Sparrow-Hawk.

Its flight is rather irregular, nor can it be called protracted. It flies
over a field, but seldom farther at a time; even in barren lands, a few
hundred yards are all the extent it chooses to go before it alights.
During the love season alone it may be seen sailing for half an hour,
which is, I believe, the longest time I ever saw one on the wing. When
chasing a bird, it passes along with considerable celerity, but never
attains the speed of the Sharp-shinned Hawk or of other species. When
teazing an Eagle or a Turkey Buzzard, its strength seems to fail in a
few minutes, and if itself chased by a stronger hawk, it soon retires
into some thicket for protection. Its migrations are pursued by day,
and with much apparent nonchalance.

The cry of this bird so much resembles that of the European Kestrel,
to which it seems allied, that, were it rather stronger in intonation,
it might be mistaken for it. At times it emits its notes while perched,
but principally when on the wing, and more continually before and after
the birth of its young, the weaker cries of which it imitates when they
have left the nest and follow their parents.

The Sparrow Hawk does not much regard the height of the place in which
it deposits its eggs, provided it be otherwise suitable, but I never saw
it construct a nest for itself. It prefers the hole of a Woodpecker, but
now and then is satisfied with an abandoned crow's nest. So prolific
is it, that I do not recollect having ever found fewer than five eggs
or young in the nest, and, as I have already said, the number sometimes
amounts to seven. The eggs are nearly globular, of a deep buff-colour,
blotched all over with dark brown and black. This Hawk sometimes raises
two broods in the season, in the Southern States, where in fact it may
be said to be a constant resident; but in the Middle and Eastern States,
seldom if ever more than one. Nay, I have thought that in the South the
eggs of a laying are more numerous than in the North, although of this
I am not quite certain.

So much attached are they to their stand, that they will return to it
and sit there by preference for months in succession. My friend BACHMAN
informed me that, through this circumstance, he has caught as many as
seven in the same field, each from its favourite stump.

Although the greater number of these Hawks remove southward at the
approach of winter, some remain even in the State of New York during the
severest weather of that season. These keep in the immediate neighbourhood
of barns, where now and then they secure a rat or a mouse for their
support. Sometimes this species is severely handled by the larger Hawks.
One of them who had caught a Sparrow, and was flying off with it, was
suddenly observed by a Red-tailed Hawk, which in a few minutes made it
drop its prey: this contented the pursuer and enabled the pursued to
escape.

THEODORE LINCOLN, Esq. of Dennisville, Maine, informed me that the
Sparrow-Hawk is in the habit of attacking the Republican Swallow, while
sitting on its eggs, deliberately tearing the bottle-neck-like entrance
of its curious nest, and seizing the occupant for its prey. This is as
fit a place as any to inform you, that the father of that gentleman,
who has resided at Dennisville upwards of forty years, found the swallow
just mentioned abundant there, on his arrival in that then wild portion
of the country.

In the Floridas the Sparrow-Hawk pairs as early as February, in the
Middle States about April, and in the northern parts of Maine seldom
before June. Few are seen in Nova Scotia, and none in Newfoundland, or
on the western coast of Labrador. Although abundant in the interior of
East Florida, I did not observe one on any of the keys which border the
coast of that singular peninsula. During one of my journeys down the
Mississippi, I frequently observed some of these birds standing on low
dead branches over the water, from which they would pick up the beetles
that had accidentally fallen into the stream.

No bird can be more easily raised and kept than this beautiful Hawk.
I once found a young male that had dropped from the nest before it was
able to fly. Its cries for food attracted my notice, and I discovered
it lying near a log. It was large, and covered with soft white down,
through which the young feathers protruded. Its little blue bill and yet
grey eyes made it look not unlike an owl. I took it home, named it Nero,
and provided it with small birds, at which it would scramble fiercely,
although yet unable to tear their flesh, in which I assisted it. In a
few weeks it grew very beautiful, and became so voracious, requiring a
great number of birds daily, that I turned it out, to see how it would
shift for itself. This proved a gratification to both of us: it soon
hunted for grasshoppers and other insects, and on returning from my
walks I now and then threw a dead bird high in the air, which it never
failed to perceive from its stand, and towards which it launched with
such quickness as sometimes to catch it before it fell to the ground. The
little fellow attracted the notice of his brothers, brought up hard by,
who, accompanied by their parents, at first gave it chase, and forced
it to take refuge behind one of the window-shutters, where it usually
passed the night, but soon became gentler towards it, as if forgiving
its desertion. My bird was fastidious in the choice of food, would not
touch a Woodpecker, however fresh, and as he grew older, refused to eat
birds that were in the least tainted. To the last he continued kind to
me, and never failed to return at night to his favourite roost behind
the window-shutter. His courageous disposition often amused the family,
as he would sail off from his stand, and fall on the back of a tame
duck, which, setting up a loud quack, would waddle off in great alarm
with the Hawk sticking to her. But, as has often happened to adventurers
of similar spirit, his audacity cost him his life. A hen and her brood
chanced to attract his notice, and he flew to secure one of the chickens,
but met one whose parental affection inspired her with a courage greater
than his own. The conflict, which was severe, ended the adventures of
poor Nero.

I have often observed birds of this species in the Southern States, and
more especially in the Floridas, which were so much smaller than those met
with in the Middle and Northern Districts, that I felt almost inclined
to consider them different; but after studying their habits and voice,
I became assured that they were the same. Another species allied to the
present, and alluded to by WILSON, has never made its appearance in our
Southern States.

     FALCO SPARVERIUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 128.—_Lath._
     Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 42.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds
     of the United States, p. 27.

     AMERICAN SPARROW-HAWK, FALCO SPARVERIUS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
     vol. ii. p. 117. pl. 16. fig. 1, Female; and vol. iv. p. 57.
     pl. 32. fig. 2, Male.—_Nuttall_, Manual, part i. p. 58.

     FALCO SPARVERIUS, LITTLE RUSTY-CROWNED FALCON, _Swains. and
     Richards._ Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 31.

Adult Male. Plate CXLII. Fig. 1, 2.

Bill short, cerate at the base, the dorsal line curved in its whole
length; upper mandible with the edges slightly inflected, and forming
a small projecting process, the tip trigonal, acute, descending; lower
mandible inflected at the edges, with a notch near the end, which is
abrupt. Nostrils roundish, with a central papilla, and placed close to
the edge of the cere. Head rather large, flattened, neck short, body of
moderate size. Legs of ordinary length; tarsi roundish with two rows
of large scales before, three only below being transverse, with small
scales on the sides; toes scutellate above, scabrous and tuberculate
beneath; middle toe much longer than the outer, which is connected with
it by a small web; claws longish, curved, rounded, very acute.

Plumage compact on the back, blended on the head and under parts. Feathers
of the head and neck narrow, of the breast oblong, of the back broad and
rounded. Space between the bill and eye covered with bristly feathers.
Wings long, much pointed, the primaries tapering, the second and third
with their outer webs, the first and second their inner ones sinuated;
second quill longest. Tail long, moderately rounded, of twelve rather
narrow, rounded feathers.

Bill light blue, the tip black, the cere yellow. Iris brown. Feet yellow;
claws black. A circular patch of deep orange-brown on the crown of the
head, which is surrounded by a band of dark greyish-blue, with which is
in contact a black spot on the nape; a patch of black descends from the
fore part of the eye, another immediately behind it, the cheek between
them being white, and there is a third farther back, and surrounded by
pale brown. A narrow line between the forehead and the bill, and another
over the eye, white. The back and scapulars are brownish-red, with a few
transverse black bars, the rump unspotted and deeper. Tail of the same
colour as the rump, with a broad sub-terminal band of black, the tips
white, as is the outer web of the lateral feather, which on its inner
web has five black bars (including the sub-terminal one), the spaces
between them white. The next feather has also frequently a few marks of
black and white. The wing-coverts are greyish-blue, spotted with black.
Quills brownish-black, their inner webs transversely spotted with white.
The throat, hind part of the belly, and under tail-coverts, white; the
breast brownish-white, its fore part and sides, with the lower part of
the neck, marked with guttiform black spots. Under wing-coverts white,
spotted with black.

Length 12 inches, extent of wings 22; bill along the back ¾; tarsus
1-5/12; middle toe and claw 1-3/12.

Adult Female. Plate CXLII. Fig. 3.

The female is similarly coloured, but the crown of the head is marked
with longitudinal black lines, and the back, which is of a duller tint,
with regular transverse bars of the same. The tail is barred with black,
the subterminal bar not nearly so broad as in the male, and the tips
brownish-white. The under surface is like that of the male, but the
breast and flanks are marked with oblong pale yellowish-brown streaks,
the spots on the inner webs of the quills are pale brown.

Length 12 inches.

THE BUTTER-NUT, OR WHITE WALNUT.

     JUGLANS CINEREA, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 456. _Pursh_,
     Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 626.—J. CATHARTICA, _Mich._
     Arbr. Forest. vol. i. p. 165. pl. 2.

In this species the leaflets are numerous, serrated, rounded at the
base, downy beneath, their petiols villous; the fruit oblongo-ovate,
with a long nipple-like apex, which is grooved and rough. It is often a
graceful tree, growing to the height of fifty feet or more. The wood is
light coloured, but is not much used. The nuts, when young and tender,
make a pickle which is relished in many parts of the Union. It does not
occur in Maine, but farther south is abundant, as well as in the western
country.

THE GOLDEN-CROWNED THRUSH.

_TURDUS AUROCAPILLUS_, LATH.

PLATE CXLIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

It is difficult for me to conceive the reasons which have induced certain
naturalists to remove this bird from the Thrushes, and place it in the
genus Sylvia. The habits of a bird certainly are as sure indications of
its nature, as the form of its bill or feet can be; and while the latter
afford no good grounds for rejecting this species as a Thrush, the former
are decidedly favourable to its remaining where its discoverer placed it.

The Golden-crowned Thrush nestles on the ground, where, certes, the nest
of no true Sylvia has ever been found, at least in America; it searches
for food as much there as on the branches of trees; and its young follow
it for nearly a week before they resort to the latter, although quite
able to fly. But differences of opinion, such as that occurring in the
present case, are of little interest to me, and cannot influence Nature,
whom alone I follow, in her arrangements.

The notes of this bird are first heard in Louisiana, about the beginning
of March. Some individuals remain there all summer, but the greater
number proceed eastward, some going as far as Nova Scotia, while others
move towards the west. Over all this extent of country the species is
dispersed, and its breeding places are in the interior or along the
margins of shady woods watered by creeks and rivulets, and seldom visited
by man, it being of a shy and retiring disposition, so that its occurrence
in the open parts of the country is very rare. In places like these, it
settles for the season, attunes its pipe to its simple lay, forms its
nest, rears a brood or two, and at the approach of winter, spreads its
wings and returns to southern regions.

Perched erect on a low horizontal branch, or sometimes on a fallen tree,
it emits, at intervals of ten or fifteen minutes, a short succession
of simple notes, beginning with emphasis and gradually falling. This
suffices to inform the female that her lover is at hand, as watchful
as he is affectionate. The quieter the place of his abode, the more
the little minstrel exerts his powers; and in calm evenings, its music
immediately following the song of the Tawny Thrush, appears to form a
pleasant unison.

The nest is so like an oven, that the children in many places call
this species the "Oven Bird." I have found it always on the ground,
sometimes among the roots of a tall tree, sometimes by the side of a
fallen trunk, and again at the foot of some slender sapling. It is sunk
in the ground among dry leaves or decayed moss, and is neatly formed of
grasses, both inside and out, arched over with a thick mass of the same
material, covered by leaves, twigs, and such grasses as are found in the
neighbourhood. A small aperture is left on one side, just sufficient to
admit the owner. In this snug tenement the female deposits from four to
six eggs, which are white, irregularly spotted with reddish-brown near
the larger end.

When accidentally disturbed at the period of incubation, it glides over
the ground before you, and uses all sorts of artifices to decoy you
from its nest. Several species of snakes and small quadrupeds are its
principal enemies. From children it has little to dread, its gentleness
securing it a place in their affections, so that they seldom molest it.

While on wing it appears to glide through the woods with ease and
celerity, although it seldom extends its flight to more than a hundred
yards at a time. It migrates by day, resorting at night to the deepest
swamps. In these situations I have met it in company with the Cat Bird
and other Thrushes. When disturbed on such occasions, its simple _tweet_
was familiar to my ear. None remain in the United States during winter,
although some are found lingering in the lower parts of Louisiana as
late as the first of December.

The plant on which I have placed a pair of them, grew near the spot
where I obtained the birds, in a dark wood not far from Philadelphia.

     TURDUS AUROCAPILLUS, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 328.

     GOLDEN-CROWNED THRUSH, TURDUS AUROCAPILLUS, _Wils._ Amer.
     Ornith. vol. ii. p. 88. pl. 17. fig. 2.—_Nuttall_, Manual,
     part ii. p. 355.

     SYLVIA AUROCAPILLA, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the
     United States, p. 77.

     SEIURUS AUROCAPILLUS, GOLDEN-CROWNED ACCENTOR, _Swains. and
     Richards._ Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 227.

Adult Male. Plate CXLIII. Fig. 1.

Bill shortish, nearly straight, subulato-conical, rather broader than
deep at the base, compressed towards the end, the edges sharp and a little
inflected, the dorsal outlines of both mandibles slightly convex. Nostrils
basal, elliptical, lateral, half-closed by a membrane. The general form
is slender. Feet of ordinary length; tarsus compressed, slender, covered
anteriorly with a long undivided piece, and three inferior scutella,
sharp behind; toes scutellate above, free; claws slender, compressed,
acute, arched.

Plumage soft and blended. Wings of ordinary length, the second and third
quills almost equal, the third longest. Tail short, slightly emarginate,
of twelve pointed feathers.

Bill dusky above, flesh-coloured beneath. Iris brown. Feet very light
flesh-coloured and transparent. The general colour of the plumage above
is greenish-brown, the crown brownish-orange, with two lateral lines of
brownish-black spots. The lower parts are white, the throat with two
lateral lines of brownish-black, and the lower neck, fore part of the
breast, and the sides marked with triangular spots of the same.

Length 6 inches, extent of wings 9; bill along the ridge 5½/12, along
the edge 7½/12; tarsus 9½/12.

Adult Female. Plate CXLIII. Fig. 2.

The female resembles the male, but is somewhat lighter, with the crown
paler. The dimensions are nearly the same.

THE WOODY NIGHTSHADE.

     SOLANUM DULCAMARA, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. i. p. 1027. _Pursh_,
     Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 156.—PENTANDRIA MONOGYNIA, _Linn._

This species is found in the woods, as well as along the margins of
cultivated land, and is one of those common to both continents.

THE SMALL GREEN CRESTED FLYCATCHER.

_MUSCICAPA ACADICA_, GMEL.

PLATE CXLIV. MALE AND FEMALE.

The Small Green Crested Flycatcher is not abundant, even in South
Carolina, in the maritime parts of which it occasionally breeds. It
merely passes through Louisiana, in early spring and in autumn; but it
is found distributed from Maryland to the eastern extremities of Nova
Scotia, proceeding perhaps still farther north, although neither I nor
any of my party observed a single individual in Newfoundland or Labrador.

It is a usual inhabitant of the most gloomy and secluded parts of our
deep woods, although now and then a pair may be found to have taken
possession of a large orchard near the house of the farmer. Almost as
pugnacious as the King Bird, it is seen giving chase to every intruder
upon its premises, not only during the season of its loves, but during
its whole stay with us. As soon as it has paired, it becomes so retired
that it seldom goes farther from its nest than is necessary for procuring
food.

Perched on some small spray or dry twig, it stands erect, patiently
eyeing the objects around. When it perceives an insect, it sweeps after
it with much elegance, snaps its bill audibly as it seizes the prey, and
on realighting, utters a disagreeable squeak. While perched it is heard
at intervals repeating its simple, guttural, gloomy notes, resembling
the syllables _queae, queae, tchooe, tchewee_. These notes are often
followed, as the bird passes from one tree to another, by a low murmuring
chirr or twitter, which it keeps up until it alights, when it instantly
quivers its wings, and jerks its tail a few times. At intervals it emits
a sweeter whistling note, sounding like _weet, weet, weet, will_; and
when angry it emits a loud _chirr_.

Early in May, in our Middle Districts, the Small Green Crested Flycatcher
constructs its nest, which varies considerably in different parts of the
country, being made warmer in the northern localities, where it breeds
almost a month later. It is generally placed in the darkest shade of
the woods, in the upright forks of some middle-sized tree, from eight
to twenty feet above the ground, sometimes so low as to allow a man to
look into it. In some instances I have found it on the large horizontal
branches of an oak, when it looked like a knot. It is always neat and
well-finished, the inside measuring about two inches in diameter, with a
depth of an inch and a half. The exterior is composed of stripes of the
inner bark of various trees, vine fibres and grasses, matted together
with the down of plants, wool, and soft moss. The lining consists of
fine grass, a few feathers, and horse hair. The whole is light, elastic,
and firmly coherent, and is glued to the twigs or saddled on the branch
with great care. The eggs are from four to six, small, and pure white.
While the female is sitting, the male often emits a scolding _chirr_
of defiance, and rarely wanders far from the nest, but relieves his
mate at intervals. In the Middle States they often have two broods in
the season, but in Maine or farther north only one. The young follow
their parents in the most social manner; but before these birds leave
us entirely, the old and the young form different parties, and travel
in small groups towards warmer regions.

I have thought that this species throws up pellets more frequently than
most others. Its food consists of insects during spring and summer, such
as moths, wild bees, butterflies, and a variety of smaller kinds; but
in autumn it greedily devours berries and small grapes. Although not shy
with respect to man, it takes particular notice of quadrupeds, following
a minx or polecat to a considerable distance, with every manifestation of
anger. The mutual affection of the male and female, and their solicitude
respecting their eggs or young, are quite admirable.

The flight of the Small Green Flycatcher is performed by short glidings,
supported by protracted flaps of the wings, not unlike those of the
Pewee Flycatcher; and it is often seen, while passing low through the
woods or following the margins of a creek, to drink in the manner of
swallows, or sweep after its prey, until it alights. Like the King Bird,
it always migrates by day.

     MUSCICAPA ACADICA, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the
     United States, p. 68.

     SMALL GREEN CRESTED FLYCATCHER, MUSCICAPA QUERULA, _Wils._
     Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 77. pl. 13. fig. 3.

     SMALL PEWEE, _Nuttall_, Manual, part i. p. 288.

Adult Male. Plate CXLIV. Fig. 1.

Bill of ordinary length, depressed (much deeper than in _M. Traillii_),
tapering to a point, the lateral outlines a little convex; upper mandible
with the sides convex, the edges sharp, slightly notched close upon the
tip, which is deflected and acute; lower mandible convex below, acute,
short. Nostrils basal, lateral, elliptical. Head of moderate size, neck
short, general form slender. Feet of moderate length, slender; tarsus
compressed, covered anteriorly with short scutella, sharp behind; toes
free; claws compressed, arched, acute.

Plumage soft and tufty; feathers of the head narrow and erectile. Wings
of moderate length, third quill longest, first and fourth equal. Tail
rather long, slightly rounded.

Bill dark brown above, flesh-coloured beneath. Iris hazel. Feet
greyish-blue. The general colour of the plumage above is light
greenish-olive. Quills and tail wood-brown margined with pale
greenish-olive; secondary coverts, and first row of small coverts tipped
with yellowish-white, forming two bands across the wing, the secondary
quills broadly edged and tipped with the same. A very narrow ring of
greyish-white round the eye; throat of the same colour; sides of the
neck and fore part of the breast olivaceous, tinged with grey; the rest
of the under parts yellowish-white.

Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the ridge 6/12, along
the edge ¾; tarsus 7/12.

Adult Female. Plate CXLIV. Fig. 2.

The female differs from the male only in having the tints somewhat
duller, and being rather less.

SASSAFRAS.

     LAURUS SASSAFRAS, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 485. _Pursh_,
     Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. 277.—ENNEANDRIA MONOGYNIA, _Linn._
     LAURI, _Juss._

The Sassafras grows on almost every kind of soil in the Southern and
Western States, where it is of common occurrence. Along the Atlantic
States it extends as far as New Hampshire, and still farther north in the
western country. The beauty of its foliage and its medicinal properties
render it one of our most interesting trees. It attains a height of fifty
or sixty feet, with a proportionate diameter. The leaves are alternate,
petiolate, oval, and undivided, or three-lobed. The flowers, which appear
before the leaves, are of a greenish-yellow colour, and the berries are
of an oval form and bluish-black tint, supported on cups of a bright
red, having long filiform peduncles.

THE YELLOW RED-POLL WARBLER.

_SYLVIA PETECHIA_, LATH.

PLATE CXLV. MALE AND FEMALE.

I most willingly acknowledge the error under which I laboured many years,
in believing that this species and the _Sylvia palmarum_ of BONAPARTE,
are distinct from each other. To the sound judgment of my good friend
JOHN BACHMAN, I am indebted for convincing me that the figure given
by the Prince of Musignano is that of our present bird, at a different
period of life, and therefore with different plumage. I was not fully
aware of this, until the 63d plate of my second volume of Illustrations
had been delivered to the subscribers, bearing on it the name of _Sylvia
palmarum_. That plate, however, will prove useful, as it represents both
sexes of the _Sylvia petechia_ in full summer plumage, while the 45th
plate shews them in their first autumnal dress. While at Charleston, in
the winter and spring of 1833-4, I became convinced of my error, after
examining a great number of specimens, in different states of plumage,
corresponding to the figures in my two plates. All these individuals
had the same habits, and uttered the same notes. I may here remark, that
the true _Sylvia palmarum_ has not yet been met with in the United States.

The Yellow Red-poll Warbler is extremely abundant in the Southern States,
from the beginning of November to the first of April, when it migrates
northward. It is one of the most common birds in the Floridas during
winter, especially along the coasts, where they are fond of the orchards
and natural woods of orange trees. In Georgia and South Carolina, they
are also very abundant, and are to be seen gambolling, in company with
the Yellow-rumped Warbler, on the trees that ornament the streets of
the cities and villages, or those of the planter's yard. They approach
the piazzas and enter the gardens, in search of insects, on which they
feed principally on the wing, now and then securing some by moving
slowly along the branches. It never removes from one spot to another,
without uttering a sharp twit, and vibrating its tail in the manner of
the Wagtails of Europe, though less frequently. I never saw this species
in Pennsylvania in summer, although occasionally in the month of May
it is to be seen for a few days. It is very rare in Maine; but I found
it abundant in Newfoundland and Labrador, where I seldom passed a day
without searching for its nest, although I am sorry to say, in vain. In
the month of August the old birds were feeding their young all around
us, and preparing to return to milder winter quarters.

The pair represented in the plate were drawn on the banks of the
Mississippi, along with a plant which grew there, and was in flower at
the time. Those represented in the 63d plate, were drawn in the Floridas,
in full spring plumage, a few days previous to the departure of the
species from that country. These I placed on their favourite wild orange
tree, which was then in full bloom.

Nothing can be more gladdening to the traveller, when passing through
the uninhabited woods of East Florida, than the wild orange groves which
he sometimes meets with. As I approached them, the rich perfume of the
blossoms, the golden hue of the fruits, that hung on every twig, and
lay scattered on the ground, and the deep green of the glossy leaves,
never failed to produce the most pleasing effect on my mind. Not a branch
has suffered from the pruning knife, and the graceful form of the trees
retains the elegance it received from nature. Raising their tops into
the open air, they allow the uppermost blossoms and fruits to receive
the unbroken rays of the sun, which one might be tempted to think are
conveyed from flower to flower, and from fruit to fruit, so rich and
balmy are all. The pulp of these fruits quenches your thirst at once,
and the very air you breathe in such a place refreshes and reinvigorates
you. I have passed through groves of these orange trees fully a mile
in extent. Their occurrence is a sure indication of good land, which in
the south-eastern portion of that country is rather scarce. The Seminole
Indians and poorer Squatters feed their horses on oranges, which these
animals seem to eat with much relish. The immediate vicinity of a wild
orange grove is of some importance to the planters, who have the fruits
collected and squeezed in a horse mill. The juice is barrelled and sent to
different markets, being in request as an ingredient in cooling drinks.
The straight young shoots are cut and shipped in bundles, to be used as
walking sticks.

     SYLVIA PETECHIA, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 535.—_Ch.
     Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 83.

     YELLOW RED-POLL WARBLER, SYLVIA PETECHIA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
     vol. vi. p. 19. pl. 28. fig. 4. Male.—_Nuttall_, Manual, p. 364.

     SYLVICOLA PETECHIA, _Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor.-Amer.
     part i. p. 215.

Adult Male in Winter. Plate CXLV. Fig. 1.

Bill short, straight, conico-subulate, very slender, acute. Nostrils
basal, lateral, oval, half closed by a membrane. Head rather small; neck
short, body slender. Feet of ordinary length, slender; tarsus longer than
the middle toe, covered anteriorly by a few scutella, the upper ones
long; toes scutellate above, the inner free, the hind toe of moderate
size; claws slender, compressed, acute, arched.

Plumage soft and blended, with little gloss. Wings of ordinary length,
acute, the second quill longest, the secondaries rather long and rounded.
Tail of moderate length, emarginate. Bristles at the base of the bill.

Bill dusky-brown above, yellowish beneath. Iris deep brown. Feet
umber-brown. The general colour of the plumage above is yellow-olive,
streaked with dark brown; crown of the head brownish-red, margined on
each side with a line of pale-yellow over the eye; rump and tail-coverts
greenish-yellow; quills blackish-brown, edged with yellow-olive; tail of
the colour of the wings, the two lateral feathers white in their whole
breadth towards the end, forming a white band across the tail beneath
when it is closed. The sides of the head are yellow, with two dusky
bands, and the lower parts generally are bright yellow, the fore-neck,
breast and sides streaked with brownish-red.

Length 4½ inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the back 4½/12, along
the edge ½; tarsus ¾.

Adult Female. Plate CXLV. Fig. 2.

The Female is coloured in the same manner as the Male, but the tints
are much paler, the red of the head scarcely apparent, and the fore-neck
very faintly marked.

Individuals of both sexes exhibit considerable difference in the tints
of the plumage, at different ages and in different seasons.

     HELENIUM QUADRIDENTATUM, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. iii. p. 2121.
     _Pursh_, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 560.—SYNGENESIA POLYGAMIA
     SUPERFLUA. COMPOSITÆ, _Juss._

From three to four feet high, with the stem branched, the leaves
decurrent, the lower subpinnatifid, the upper lanceolate, undivided,
smooth; the corollas of the disk four-toothed. This plant springs up
spontaneously over all the abandoned lands of Louisiana, and is very
difficult to be extirpated. It is often gathered and burnt, to prevent
the musquitoes from entering houses.

SPRING GARDEN.

Having heard many wonderful accounts of a certain spring near the sources
of the St John's River in East Florida, I resolved to visit it, in order
to judge for myself. On the 6th of January 1832, I left the plantation of
my friend JOHN BULOW, accompanied by an amiable and accomplished Scotch
gentleman, an engineer employed by the planters of those districts in
erecting their sugar-house establishments. We were mounted on horses
of the Indian breed, remarkable for their activity and strength, and
were provided with guns and some provisions. The weather was pleasant,
but not so our way, for no sooner had we left the "King's Road," which,
had been cut by the Spanish government for a goodly distance, than we
entered a thicket of scrubby oaks, succeeded by a still denser mass of
low palmettoes, which extended about three miles, and among the roots of
which our nags had great difficulty in making good their footing. After
this we entered the Pine Barrens, so extensively distributed in this
portion of the Floridas. The sand seemed to be all sand and nothing but
sand, and the palmettoes at times so covered the narrow Indian trail which
we followed, that it required all the instinct or sagacity of ourselves
and our horses to keep it. It seemed to us as if we were approaching the
end of the world. The country was perfectly flat, and, so far as we could
survey it, presented the same wild and scraggy aspect. My companion, who
had travelled there before, assured me that, at particular seasons of
the year, he had crossed the barrens when they were covered with water
fully knee-deep, when, according to his expression, they "looked most
awful;" and I readily believed him, as we now and then passed through
muddy pools, which reached the saddle-girths of our horses. Here and there
large tracts covered with tall grasses, and resembling the prairies of
the western wilds, opened to our view. Wherever the country happened to
be sunk a little beneath the general level, it was covered with cypress
trees, whose spreading arms were hung with a profusion of Spanish moss.
The soil in such cases consisted of black mud, and was densely covered
with bushes, chiefly of the Magnolia family.

We crossed in succession the heads of three branches of Haw Creek, of
which the waters spread from a quarter to half a mile in breadth, and
through which we made our way with extreme difficulty. While in the middle
of one, my companion told me, that once when in the very spot where we
then stood, his horse chanced to place his fore-feet on the back of a
large alligator, which, not well pleased at being disturbed in his repose,
suddenly raised his head, opened his monstrous jaws, and snapped off a
part of the lips of his affrighted pony. You may imagine the terror of
the poor beast, which, however, after a few plunges, resumed its course,
and succeeded in carrying its rider through in safety. As a reward for
this achievement, it was ever after honoured with the appellation of
"Alligator."

We had now travelled about twenty miles, and the sun having reached the
zenith, we dismounted to partake of some refreshment. From a muddy pool
we contrived to obtain enough of tolerably clear water to mix with the
contents of a bottle, the like of which I would strongly recommend to
every traveller in these swampy regions; our horses, too, found something
to grind among the herbage that surrounded the little pool; but as little
time was to be lost, we quickly remounted, and resumed our disagreeable
journey, during which we had at no time proceeded at a rate exceeding
two miles and a half in the hour.

All at once, however, a wonderful change took place:—the country became
more elevated and undulating; the timber was of a different nature, and
consisted of red and live oaks, magnolias, and several kinds of pine.
Thousands of "mole-hills," or the habitations of an animal here called
"the salamander," and "goffer's burrows," presented themselves to the
eye, and greatly annoyed our horses, which every now and then sank to the
depth of a foot, and stumbled at the risk of breaking their legs, and,
what we considered fully as valuable, our necks. We now saw beautiful
lakes of the purest water, and passed along a green space, having a
series of them on each side of us. These sheets of water became larger
and more numerous the farther we advanced, some of them extending to a
length of several miles, and having a depth of from two to twenty feet of
clear water; but their shores being destitute of vegetation, we observed
no birds near them. Many tortoises, however, were seen basking in the
sun, and all, as we approached, plunged into the water. Not a trace
of man did we observe during our journey, scarcely a bird, and not a
single quadruped, not even a rat; nor can one imagine a poorer and more
desolate country than that which lies between the Halifax River, which
we had left in the morning, and the undulated grounds at which we had
now arrived.

But at length we perceived the tracks of living beings, and soon after
saw the huts of Colonel REES'S negroes. Scarcely could ever African
traveller have approached the city of Timbuctoo with more excited
curiosity than we felt in approaching this plantation. Our Indian horses
seemed to participate in our joy, and trotted at a smart rate towards
the principal building, at the door of which we leaped from our saddles,
just as the sun was withdrawing his ruddy light. Colonel REES was at
home, and received us with great kindness. Refreshments were immediately
placed before us, and we spent the evening in agreeable conversation.

The next day I walked over the plantation, and examining the country
around, found the soil of good quality, it having been reclaimed
from swampy ground of a black colour, rich and very productive. The
greater part of the cultivated land was on the borders of a lake, which
communicates with others, leading to the St John's River, distant about
seven miles, and navigable so far by vessels not exceeding fifty or
sixty tons. After breakfast, our amiable host shewed us the way to the
celebrated spring, the sight of which afforded me pleasure sufficient
to counterbalance the tediousness of my journey.

This spring presents a circular basin, having a diameter of about sixty
feet, from the centre of which the water is thrown up with great force,
although it does not rise to a height of more than a few inches above the
general level. A kind of whirlpool is formed, on the edges of which are
deposited vast quantities of shells, with pieces of wood, gravel, and
other substances, which have coalesced into solid masses having a very
curious appearance. The water is quite transparent, although of a dark
colour, but so impregnated with sulphur, that it emits an odour which
to me was highly nauseous. Its surface lies fifteen or twenty feet below
the level of the woodland lakes in the neighbourhood, and its depth, in
the autumnal months, is about seventeen feet, when the water is lowest.
In all the lakes, the same species of shells as those thrown up by the
spring, occur in abundance, and it seems more than probable that it is
formed of the water collected from them by infiltration, or forms the