Citizen Bird Part 28

At a little distance you might mistake them for Paroquets, but only the upper half of a Paroquet's beak is curved, and it closes over the under half; while both parts of the Crossbill's beak are curved, and they cross each other at the tip like a pair of scissors that do not close properly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: American Crossbill]

"How and where do you think these birds build their nests in such a cold season?"

"Make a burrow in the snow, perhaps," said Dodo.

"Go into a haystack or under a shed," said Nat.

"Or a hole in a tree," added Rap.

"No, the Crossbill does not place his nest in any of these ways. He chooses a thick evergreen tree, and upon the fork of one of the branches makes a little platform of rubbish to support the nest. With great care the couple gather shreds of bark, twigs, and small sticks, till they think they have enough; then they begin the nest itself, weaving it of softer materials and lining it with gra.s.ses, fur, and feathers, until they make a very comfortable bed for the pale-green, purple-spotted eggs to lie in."

"How cold the poor birds' toes must be while they are working," said Dodo with a shiver; "and I should think the eggs would freeze instead of hatching."

"But what do they find to eat when everything is frozen stiff?" asked Rap. "Are they cannibal birds that can eat other birds and mice?"

"These two questions can be answered together," said the Doctor. "The nests are usually built in evergreens, which are cone-bearing or coniferous trees. You all know what a cone is like, I think?"

"Yes, I do!" cried Rap. "It is a long seed pod that grows on evergreens.

In summer it is green and sticky, but by and by it grows dry and brown, and divides into little rows of scales like shingles on a house, and there is a seed hidden under each scale. Each kind of an evergreen has a different-shaped cone; some are long and smooth like sausages, and some are thick and pointed like a top. The squirrels often pick the cones off the spruces over at the miller's and sh.e.l.l out the scales, just as you sh.e.l.l corn off the cob, to get the seeds."

"Very good, my boy," said the Doctor. "I see you know something about trees as well as birds. The Crossbills build in evergreens, and all around their nests hang the cones with spicy seeds stored away under the scales, ready for the birds to eat. So they do not have to go far from home for their marketing."

"But their beaks are so crooked that I don't see how they can pick out the cone seeds," said Nat.

"These curiously twisted bills, like pincers, are made expressly for the purpose of wrenching the scales from the cones, so that the seeds are laid bare."

"It's very funny," said Nat; "whenever we think a bird is queer or awkward and would be better in some other way, it is sure to be made the very best way, only we don't know it."

"By and by, when the eggs are laid and the young are hatched," continued the Doctor, "Crossbills make the most devoted parents; they would let themselves be lifted from the nest rather than leave their family.

"And when it is midsummer the old and young Crossbills form into flocks.

Then the parents begin to think that the young people need a change of air for their health, and a few months of travel to finish their education. So they wander southward through the States without any method or plan, sometimes going as far as New Orleans before winter really begins; and it is on these journeys that we see them.

"Some frosty morning in October, if you hear a sound coming from the sky, like the tinkling of little bells--'Tlink-link-link-link'--you may be sure there is a flock of Crossbills near, and soon you will see them climbing about an evergreen, or quietly picking seeds on a birch or beech. The moment before they move to another tree they begin to call; this is the only note you will be likely to hear from them, and one which they often keep up during flight.

"They are capricious birds when on their travels, sometimes letting you come very near them without showing a sign of fear, then suddenly taking flight and dashing about in a distracted way. They are also tardy in getting back to their piney homes sometimes, and choose their mates on the journey, unlike most birds. Very often a thoughtless couple are obliged to camp out and build a home wherever they happen to be, so that their nests have been found in several of the New England States."

"Is there only one kind of Crossbill in North America?" asked Rap.

"No, this Red Crossbill has two cousins; one with two white bars on each wing, called the White-winged Crossbill, who sometimes travels with him, but is rarer; and another who lives in Mexico."

The American Crossbill

Length about six inches.

Beak crossed at the tips, but looking like a Parrot's if you do not notice how the points cross.

Male: general color Indian red, with dark wings and tail.

Female: general color dull olive-green, with wings and tail like the male's.

A Citizen of the North, making winter excursions all through the United States.

THE AMERICAN GOLDFINCH

(THE JOLLY BIRD, or THISTLE BIRD)

"This must be my other bird," said Nat, "the yellow one from the wild gra.s.s meadow, who had what looked like a little black velvet cap tipped down over his eyes. They are such jolly little chaps that it made me laugh when I watched them swinging on the ends of the tall gra.s.s. Once in a while one would play he was angry and try to look cross; but he couldn't keep it up long, because he really felt so good natured."

"I believe every one knows Goldfinches," said Olive. "I remember them longer than any birds, but the Robin and Bluebird."

[Ill.u.s.tration: American Goldfinch]

"Yes, for even I know them a little bit," said Dodo, "but not by their right name, for when I saw some in the Park last summer somebody said they were wild Canaries that had flown out of cages."

"What do they eat, cones or little seeds?" asked Nat.

"They eat gra.s.s-seeds, and the seeds of weeds--the most fly-away weeds too, that blow everywhere and spread ever so fast," said Rap. "Look, quick! There's a flock coming by now, and they are calling 'Come _talk_ to me! Come _talk_ to me!' See--they have settled on the long gra.s.s by the fence and are gobbling seeds like everything," continued Rap in a whisper.

As he spoke a flock of twenty or more birds flew over; some were the bright-yellow males and others the more plainly colored females. They did not fly straight, but in a jerky way, constantly dropping down and then lifting up again, and calling out "wait for me" on every down-grade curve, until by common consent they alighted among some wild gra.s.ses, where the early yellow thistles were already going to seed.

"Watch and listen," said the Doctor, as he handed the field-gla.s.s to the children in turn.

There was a perfect babel of bird-talk, the jaunty blond males all making pretty speeches to the gentle brown-haired females, who laughed merry little bird-laughs in return.

"It is like the noise in the store where they sell Canaries," whispered Nat, after taking a long look; "first they all sing together and then a few sing so much louder that the others stop. I wonder what they are saying?"

"They are talking about housekeeping," said the Doctor. "Some of the ladies say they prefer high apartments in a tree-top, while others like one-story bushes the best; but all agree that the ground floor is too damp for the health of their families. In a few days, or a week at most, this merry flock will have parted company, and two by two the birds will begin housekeeping."

"Why, they are pulling off the thistle-down, and gobbling it up. I should think it would choke them," said Dodo.

"Those are some of the fly-away seeds that Rap spoke of a moment ago.

The fluff is not the seed, but a sort of sail to which the seed is fastened, that the wind may blow it away to another place to grow. If you look carefully you will see that the birds do not eat thistle-down, but only the seed; they will soon use the down to line their pretty round cup-shaped nests." "Oh, yes," said Dodo, "there are lots of fluffy seeds, and they mostly belong to very bad weeds. Olive has been telling us about them, Uncle Roy, and so of course the Goldies do heaps of good by eating them. If they eat those weed-seeds and do not need insects they can live here all winter--can't they, uncle?"

"Certainly; they gather in flocks after their nesting-time, which you see is very late. Then the males shed their bright-yellow feathers, and look exactly like their wives and children. Still, they make a merry party flying about in the garden and field edges, where the composite flowers have left them food, whispering and giggling all day long--even singing merrily now and then. They often have hard times in winter, and when I am here at the Farm I always scatter canary seed on the snow for them."

"What is a com-pos-ite flower?" asked Dodo.

"A kind of flower which has a great many little blossoms crowded together in a bunch, so that they look like one big flower--such as a dandelion, thistle, or sunflower. Olive will tell you more about them to-morrow. She is the Flower Lady, you know--I am only your Bird Uncle, and if I mix up flowers with birds I shall be apt to confuse you."

"They eat sunflower seeds," said Rap. "We grow these seeds for our hens and the Goldies always get their share."

"I wonder if that is why they are such a beautiful yellow," said Dodo.

"'Flying Sunflower' would be a nice name for them. No, you needn't laugh at me, Nat; the man in the bird store said he gave Canaries red pepper to make them red, so I don't see why the seed of yellow sunflowers shouldn't make birds yellow!" But in spite of her argument Nat and Rap continued to laugh.