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                             ORNITHOLOGIST
                                 —AND—
                               OÖLOGIST.


  $1.00 per      Joseph M. Wade, Editor and Publisher.     Single Copy
  Annum.               Established, March, 1875.             10 Cents.
  VOL. VIII.              BOSTON, MARCH, 1883.                  No. 3.




                           Among the Buteos.


The voices of our New England Buzzards are again ringing through their
old haunts, and it may now be seasonable to review my local notes on
their breeding habits last Spring. In short, then, I took 104 eggs. And
from other nests in my circle of observation were taken or destroyed by
farmers, hawk-hunters and others, sixty more eggs and young birds. So
until a more favored breeding range is made known I shall claim this to
be the home of the Buteos. A correspondent in Rochester writes that he
thinks as many eggs can be taken yearly in that vicinity, but until this
is shown to be true I shall not believe the distribution of species is
so equal. If this article could be accompanied by a good physical map of
Norwich and its environs, it would help greatly to support my claims. An
irregular line drawn around the city just outside the suburbs would pass
through the breeding places of sixteen pairs of Red-shouldered Hawks
which I marked down the second week in April. Except a few hemlocks, the
groves and strips of first growth are all deciduous and nearly all
nut-bearing. The red squirrel, which is not so relentlessly shot down as
his gray cousin, is amazingly plenty in these suburban woods. While
skating yesterday on Yantic cove, within the city limits, I saw seven
squirrels playing in the small patch above Christ’s church on the river
bank. Every one who has climbed to nests of young Buteos nearly fledged,
must have been astonished at the great quantity of these young rodents,
supplied by the parent birds. In one nest of Red-tailed Hawks I have
seen portions of nine red squirrels, and from another have counted out
on the ground seven entire bodies. A game bird or chicken now and then,
but red squirrels for every day bill-of-fare. Mousing, Master Buteo will
go. And frogging, too, for I have several times surprised him in muddy
sloughs in the woods, and field collectors often are called to notice
the black mud on fresh Hawk’s eggs. Given then a great food supply and
the species that follow it will be abundant. Over the grove of second
growths to the left of Love Lane, last Spring, I saw a pair of
Red-shouldered Hawks hovering for days in succession. I knew they were
not breeding in the patch, as they had not done so in former years, and
there were but three old Crow’s nests very low down. But to be very sure
I examined the grove repeatedly with care and found it to be alive with
red squirrels. In one apple-tree hole was a litter of six; in the butt
of an oak were five with eyes unopened, and the conspicuous outside
nests were many. A Barred Owl clung to the top of a white birch with one
claw, and was tearing away at a squirrel’s new domed nest with the other
claw. The Hawks had their nest with two young in the swamp beyond, and
this grove was their handy larder, and very noisy they were over their
daily grace before meat.

The Buteos’ nests from which my ’82 series was taken, were for the most
part old ones, the very few exceptions being smaller than those used for
several seasons. The use of an old nest by the Great-horned Owl is
habitual. The Barred Owl takes a hole when it can find one, and if not,
an old nest. Failing there, he builds a very small nest of the flimsiest
sort. To show the dislike of our Raptores to nidification, let me
reproduce an avian drama to which usher nature gave me a free pass and
open stall last Spring. The scene opens late in March on Plain Hill,
where a pair of Red-shouldered Hawks were furbishing up the nest in
which off and on they had bred for five years. Their dalliance was
pleasant, no doubt, but dangerously long, for a Barred Owl slipped in
and laid two eggs April 1 and 3. The Hawks were virtually indignant, and
were often seen to dash down towards the nest, as if to dispossess the
intruder, but they always wisely stopped a few inches above the snapping
bill and mass of fluffy feathers with nine points of law in its favor.
The Hawks at length went across a small swamp and re-upholstered the
nest in which the Owl bred in ’81. I now took the two Owl’s eggs,
supposing the clutch complete, but she then went across the swamp and
laid the third egg in her old tenement. When I climbed to the second
nest, with the Hawks in possession, it contained three Buteo’s eggs and
one Barred Owl’s. Blowing showed that the Owl’s egg was slightly
incubated, and it would have been interesting perhaps to have let nature
had her course with this motley clutch. The unwearied owl now went back
to the first nest and laid and hatched her second clutch of two eggs.
Ovipositing after a while again becoming a necessity for the Hawks, they
too repaired to the opening scene of our drama from high life, and after
a few noisy demonstrations against the Owl, took up their new quarters
in a tree within gunshot of the first. The nest was so small I could not
believe that even our smallest Buteo (_pennsylvanicus_), could breed in
it, though I saw the great female Red-shouldered come from it, and could
see that it was feathered through my field glass. Climbing showed it to
have a very large and bright initial egg, which was riddled with shot
the next day by so-called hawk-hunters. The marauders completed the
series of reprisals by carrying away my young owls.

Aside from my first object, I have dwelt on the final details of this
little tragedy, because it also is a fair illustration of the domestic
troubles of the Rapaciæ here in the breeding season. With every man’s
hand against them—hunter, farmer and collector—it is a continued source
of wonder that so many eggs are taken and so many hawks left. Some may
be alien birds drawn by the food supply. But as a solution to this
question it is not unreasonable to suppose that later in the season when
the farmers are busy with field work and the collector is eagerly
following the small birds in their Summer homes in the outskirts of the
woods, that made wary by pursuit, and screened by the dense foliage, the
resident Buteos manage to “steal” an occasional nest and bring up enough
young to keep up the old local race. This idea is in part born out by
the fact that in my Winter tramps through our leafless woods, I now and
then run across a Hawk’s nest which I knew was not there the year before
and the first chapter of whose life history had not been revealed to
me.—_J. M. W., Norwich, Conn._




                          Notes from Nebraska.


April 21, ’82, found my first nest of the American Long Eared Owl. ’Twas
in the forks of a small white oak tree fifteen feet from the ground and
contained five eggs ready to hatch. It resembled that of the Common
Crow, only smaller. While I was examining this nest the old birds showed
their displeasure by flying and darting close to me, continually
snapping the bill.

At times they would alight upon the ground and with spread wings and
tail flutter around, doubtless for the purpose of alluring the intruder
from their nest. The same day I found the nest of a Black Cap Chickadee
containing six fresh eggs.

April 23d I found the nest of a Screech Owl in a hollow oak tree twenty
inches below the opening. It contained three fresh eggs. From this same
tree during the Winter of 1881 and ’82 I captured five fine specimens of
this owl.

May 1st I took another set of eggs of the American Long-eared Owl. This,
like the former, contained five eggs and they were incubated about two
weeks. Another nest was found on May 4th with five eggs almost hatched.

May 6th I discovered the nest of a Red-tailed Hawk in a Red Elm tree
fifty-eight feet from the ground. After a very hard climb I found the
nest contained four (?) young about two weeks old. On the 13th of May I
found two more nests of this hawk, both of which contained eggs; one
two, and the other three.

May 18th I was informed by a herder or “Cow Boy” that he had found a
burrow on the prairie inhabited by a Burrowing Owl. The next evening
armed with a spade we repaired to the place and after digging six feet
we came upon the nest. It was about two feet under the ground and
contained nine young of various sizes, and two eggs, one of which was
pecked. The burrow was evidently made by some burrowing animal, probably
a skunk.

Cooper’s Hawk.—The following is the date of different nests found this
year: May 11th, one nest containing four fresh eggs. May 15th, one
containing four and another containing five eggs, all of which were
fresh. May 17th, two more nests containing five eggs each. These were
slightly incubated. May 11th I received a full set of eggs of the Marsh
Harrier, five in number. The nest was placed on the ground in the
prairie grass. Two more nests were found, May 18th, containing
respectively five and six eggs. These last were slightly incubated. May
17th I also found a nest of the Short-eared Owl. It was on the ground in
the prairie grass and contained eight beautiful white eggs. A good
Pointer dog is invaluable to any one collecting eggs here, as these Owls
and Hawks give chase whenever he comes near their nest. The dog will
come very handy also to find the nests of Prairie Hens, Plover, Larks,
&c.—_H. A. Kline, Polo, Ill._




                       The Prothonotary Warbler.


This beautiful little _Protonotaria citrea_ is quite rare in Kansas, yet
I had the good fortune to find four nests last June.

Early in May I saw a Downy Woodpecker making an excavation in the dead
limb of a small elm tree standing on the edge of a forest and on the
bank of the Big Blue River. I watched the tree for several days, but,
for some cause, the birds abandoned the work.

On June 9, in passing this tree I saw a bird fly from the hole so
swiftly that I could not determine the species. I hid in some bushes
near by, and after waiting about ten minutes was rewarded by seeing a
pair of the Prothonotary Warblers approach through the trees. They flew
directly to the elm tree; and, after a moment’s hesitation, the female
entered the hole, while the male flew away into the forest.

I then crept silently to the nest, which was not more than six feet
above the ground. By quickly placing my hand over the hole and allowing
sufficient opening between my thumb and finger for the admission of the
bird’s head but not its body, I easily caught the bird and examined it
at my leisure. I have frequently caught Woodpeckers, Bluebirds,
Chickadees and Wrens in this manner.

When the bird was released it uttered a short, distinct call which
brought the male bird promptly from the trees near by. They then flew
away together.

Returning to the tree I secured the nest and complement of five fresh
eggs.

This nest was composed of fine grapevine bark, dry weeds, and horse
hair. The structure was rather frail and deeply rounded. Around its
upper edge were arrayed bits of skeleton oak leaves whose delicate
lace-like tracery of veinlets gave evidence of greater taste than I had
before seen in bird architecture.

The eggs were much rounded in shape. The color was white with a pinkish
hue, and dotted with spots of brown and lavender. At the larger end
these spots were so thick as to become confluent. The eggs were similar
in size and markings.

Two more nests of this bird were reported to me on the same date, June
9. Upon visiting them I found in one five young nearly fledged, and in
the other two addled eggs.

A week or more after the discovery of the first nest I found a pair of
the birds not far from the same place. I watched them closely and
afterward frequently saw the male alone, but failed to find the nest
until after the young had left it, when I found it in the deserted nest
of a Bluebird not a hundred feet away from a dwelling house.

I identified the nest by its peculiar architecture and a few egg shells
at the base of the tree.

These four nests were alike in situation, all being in damp forests near
the river, and in deserted nests of other birds, about six or seven feet
above the ground. They were all built of like material and were
ornamented with skeleton leaves. Two of the nests were in elm trees and
two in willow stumps. I have read no description of the nest of this
warbler and do not know whether the above agrees with the experience of
older observers.—_D. E. Lantz, Manhattan, Kan._

  See pages 53 and 65, Volume vi, for other Notes.


Steal Our Articles.—Oh, yes! keep on stealing them; never mind the
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                            Wanted to Know.


Why and by whom Maryland was prefixed to “Maryland Yellow Throat,” which
a correspondent thinks should be named Maryland Black Eye.

Why, and how the “Purple Finch” received its name when it is not purple.

Why the “California Woodpecker” selects “sound acorns only to store
away” when it lives on an insect diet. William Stembeck suggests that
the acorns rather contain the germ of the grub which developes while
being in store.

Wanted to know more about the “Ash Throated Flycatcher” and “Ferruginous
Buzzard.” If Gentry has yet discovered that his statements of the
Bluebird’s migration are not true. The Hash diet he gives this bird is
beyond the power of mortal man to say whether it is true or not, but the
“Blythe and Bonny” Bluebird sings all the same, and is with us all the
year, and does often lay six blue eggs and white ones not uncommon.




                       Notes from Manhattan, Kan.


Of five nests of the Ground Robin found by me last Spring only two were
on the ground. One was six feet above ground in a greenbrier (_Smilax._)

Last Spring the Harris Sparrow remained with us until the latter part of
May. During May I found in nests of other birds several parasitic eggs
which did not resemble those of the Cowbird in shape, size or color.
They were much smaller, elongated in shape, and the markings were
lighter. I found many Cowbirds’ eggs later but none like these. The
query presented itself whether the Harris Sparrow could have laid these.

Oct. 1, 1882.—Saw a Mourning Dove sitting on two eggs, apparently fresh.

Dec. 30.—Saw thousands of Bluebirds and Robins in the woods. Saw two
Ground Robins, (_Pipilo erythrophthalmus._)—_D. E. Lantz._


    [Illustration: Tern swallowing a fish]

Clark on “Gull Island.”—This young Tern was about two-thirds grown,
without feathers, only sprouting quills, and was covered with thick gray
down, and the fish, a Herring, was fully as long as the bird, and very
nearly as heavy, and was about half swallowed. They lay on the ground,
the bird flat on its side, and I supposed it was dead, but lifting it up
and removing the fish I found the bird was all right and ready for
another. The head of the fish was partly digested. I would not suppose
it possible for a Roseate Tern to have captured or carried to land so
large a fish—much less such a little fellow attempt to deglutinate so
immense a morsel proportionably.—_John N. Clark, Old Saybrook, Conn._


Naturalist Manual.—We have received from the author, Oliver Davie, of
Columbus, Ohio, a small 8vo. book of 125 pages with the above title. It
is a compilation from the best sources, chiefly Baird, Brewer and
Ridgway, and is intended for collectors of Birds, Nests and Eggs, with
full instructions how to collect and how to preserve them. It is a most
excellent plan partially carried out, being from _Turdidæ_ to
_Tanagridæ_. It is just the book for young ornithologists and those
working in the field, and equally valuable as a book of reference for
any devotee to the science. We hope Oliver will get encouragement enough
to complete the work at no distant day.

We also received a fine cabinet photograph of two Golden Eagles, mounted
by Mr. Davie.




                           Technical Matters.


Our ideas on technical terms are not well understood by some of our
readers. We have the highest regard for advanced scientists and closet
naturalists, but as scientists from education and force of habit write
only in their technical language, which young naturalists cannot
understand, we have considered it a duty to our young aspirants for
ornithological knowledge to publish bird life in plain English, always
giving scientific terms, but only once, after that the English name
only. We are in perfect harmony with science. We are antagonistic to
nothing that is honest in nature. We claim the right to express our
views when ornithological trash is placed upon the market for our
patrons to buy. We are antagonistic to no other publication. We claim
the right to point out what we believe to be errors,