Bill strong, straight, sharp-pointed, two-thirds of an inch long.
A Citizen of the eastern United States and Canada.
A Tree Trapper.
THE CHICKADEE
"I see them, I see them, _lots_ of them!" almost screamed Dodo, growing so excited that Nat and Olive each grabbed one of her hands to keep her from clapping them, and so driving the Chickadees away.
"I never saw a strange new bird so near by," explained Dodo, "and if my eye was only a photograph machine I could take his picture."
[Ill.u.s.tration: Chickadee.]
"You can make a word-picture instead, by telling us how the bird appears to you," said the Doctor in a low voice, "but you need not whisper, for whispering is an unnatural use of the voice; it makes birds and other people suspicious, and is more likely to attract attention than a quiet low tone."
"That is what mother said when she was sick last winter and the neighbors came in to sit with her. If they talked softly she stayed asleep and didn't mind, but if they whispered she said she dreamed that the room was full of geese hissing and always waked up frightened," said Nat.
The Chickadees did not mind the conversation in the least, but kept on flitting in and out of the spruces, swinging from the little pink buds that would grow into cones by and by, doing a dozen pretty tricks, and all the time calling "chickadee-dee-dee" as if they were repeating a joke among themselves.
"They mean we shall know their name, anyway," said Nat. "Have they any other song?"
"Oh, yes, some nice little whistle-tunes like this--'whee-ewee, whee-ewee,'" said Rap, "and if you whistle back they'll answer. I've done it lots of times."
"Try now--do, Rap, and see if they will answer," begged Dodo.
"It's too open out here, but I will go back of the trees and perhaps they will answer. I heard one whistling in there a minute ago."
The children listened, and presently "whee-ewee, whee-ewee," came two high notes from among the trees. They were answered by two others, very musical, but a little bit sad. So the duet went on, boy and bird, until Dodo and Nat lost count and could not tell which was which. Then the music stopped and Rap returned laughing, saying that when the Chickadee found out it was not another bird that he was calling to, he was vexed and flew away.
"Some Chickadees lived around our house all last winter," continued Rap, "and used to eat out of the chickens' dish. I watched them every day but one that was terribly windy, and then they stayed under the miller's cow-shed. Even strong winter birds don't like the wind much--do they, Doctor?"
"No, my lad, wind is one of the greatest enemies that a bird has. A hardy bird who has plenty to eat can endure bitter cold, but when the food-supply is scanty, as it often is in winter, and the trees are covered with snow and ice, life is a battle with the Bird People. Then if a high wind is added to all this discomfort their strength gives way, and they often die in great numbers.
"If people who own gardens and farms, where there are no evergreen trees or hayricks for birds to hide in, would put up each fall little shelters of brush and branches, they would save a great many bird-lives, and their orchards would be freer from insects in the spring. But, Dodo, you are not painting the word-picture of the Chickadee. Haven't you watched them long enough to think it out?"
"Y-e-s, I believe I have," said Dodo slowly. "I see a dear little bird about as big as a Chippy Sparrow, only fatter, and he is nice soft gray on top, about the color of my chinchilla m.u.f.f. He has a black cap on his head, that comes down behind where his ears ought to be, fastened with a wide black strap across his throat, and his face is a very clean white, and his breast, too. That is, it is white in the middle, but the sides and below are a warmer color--sort of rusty white. And that's all, except that he's as fidgety as ever he can be," ended Dodo, quite out of breath with her haste to tell all she could before the bird flew away.
"Do you think you will remember the Chickadee, while he is in the deep woods nesting this summer, so that you will know him again in the autumn?"
Dodo and Nat said they were quite sure they would, but Rap said: "I've known him ever so long, only the miller called him a 'black-capped t.i.tmouse.' Isn't he a relation of the Nuthatch, Doctor?"
"Yes, a second cousin, and Black-capped t.i.tmouse is one of his right names. They used to belong to the very same family, but they had a little falling out, and are not now so intimate as they were before each went his own way, and acquired some different habits."
"I thought they were alike in a good many things," said Rap, "and their nests are something alike, too."
The Chickadee
Length about five inches.
Upper parts ashy gray.
Head, back of neck, and throat, shining black.
Cheeks pure white.
Middle of breast white; sides and belly buffy.
A Citizen of the eastern United States.
A Tree Trapper.
THE BROWN CREEPER
"Another bird that, like the Nuthatch, spends his days peeping into the cracks of tree bark in search of food. He is not a relation of the Nuthatch, but a lonely bird and the only one of his family in this part of the world.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Brown Creeper.]
"He does not advertise his whereabouts as freely as do the Woodp.e.c.k.e.rs and other tree-trunk birds, so you will have to keep a sharp lookout to find him. In the first place he is nearly the same color as the brown and gray bark upon which he creeps, the white under parts being quite hidden, and his call, which is the only note that is commonly heard, is only a little sharp squeaky 'screek, screek,' given as he winds his way up and around a tree-trunk, in the same way as a person would go up a circular staircase.
"You may catch sight of a brown object moving as swiftly as a mouse, and before you have made up your mind what it is he will have gone round the other side of the tree. But the Creeper has one habit that will some day give you a good chance to look at him. When he wishes to remain still a moment, he spreads his tail with its stiff pointed feathers and props himself by it against the tree. This is your opportunity."
"Does the Creeper stay here all summer?" asked Nat. "And doesn't he sing a song like the other birds when he makes his nest?"
"He is not a Citizen hereabouts; he likes a cooler climate and makes his home near and across the northern border of the United States. We shall see him in the autumn, when he has become a wanderer through the country. If the trees are not coated with ice, a little flock may stay here all winter, while others drift further south."
"Then we shan't hear him sing or see his nest--have you ever seen it, Uncle Roy?"
"Yes, my boy, and it was the beauty of his little song that made me stop one day, in going through an old pine wood, and search for the singer.
The song was very strange and wild, unlike any other I had ever heard.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, I saw that my old friend, the Brown Creeper, was the musician. At the same time he flew to one of the pine trees and seemed to disappear inside of it. I watched awhile until the bird flew out, and, climbing to the spot, saw that the nest was squeezed in a sort of pocket between the loose bark and the tree itself. You see, like the Chickadee and Nuthatch, he loves trees so well that he tries to creep as close to their hearts as he possibly can."
"Would you call this Creeper mostly a winter bird?" asked Dodo. "I'm going to remember the winter birds by themselves and write them in my book, because there will be fewer of them."
"Yes," said the Doctor, "at least a winter bird in places where we mostly see him; but you know that every bird must be a summer bird somewhere."
The Brown Creeper
Length five and a half inches.
Upper parts mixed brown, white, and buff.
A plain brown tail, and a light-buff band on the wings.
Under parts white, without any marks.