The Children's Book of Birds Part 18

FOOTNOTE:

[4] See Appendix, 3.

V

THE CREEPER FAMILY

(_Certhiidae_)[5]

THIS is a family of birds who creep; that is, they appear not to hop up a tree trunk like a woodp.e.c.k.e.r, or walk up like a nuthatch, but they hug close to the bark with claws and tail, and seem really to creep.

The one member of the family in this country is called the BROWN CREEPER. He is a little fellow in streaks and stripes of brown, and he looks so much like the tree trunks that one can hardly see him. He has a slender, curved bill, just the thing to poke into cracks in the bark, and pull out the insects and eggs hidden there. His tail feathers are curious. They have sharp points on the ends, so that he can press them against the bark, and help support himself.

The creeper's way of getting up a trunk is to begin near the ground, and go round and round the trunk till he reaches the lowest branch. Then he flings himself off, and flies to the roots of another tree, and goes up that in the same way. A brown creeper once came into a house, and found it so comfortable, and food so plentiful, and people so kind, that he stayed. He was very tame, and his great pleasure was to climb up a man's leg or a woman's skirt, exactly as he climbs a tree trunk, going round and round.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BROWN CREEPER]

Quiet and demure as he looks, this little bird sometimes plays rather funny pranks. He has been seen to whirl around like a top, and again to fly up and down close to a tree trunk, apparently just for fun. He has a sweet little song, which we do not often hear, for his voice is not strong.

The brown creeper mother takes a droll place for a nest. It is behind the loose bark of an old tree. She makes a snug little home under the bark roof, and lines it with feathers, and there she brings up her three or four little creepers. She is as well protected from sun and rain as if she had an umbrella, and it is such an odd place that it was not for a long time known where her cunning little nest was made.

This bird nests in the Eastern States, in northern New York and New England, and in California he nests in the mountains, but he goes South in winter. When he wants to hide, he makes use of a clever trick, which shows that he knows how much he looks like the trunk of a tree. He simply flattens himself against the bark, and keeps perfectly still.

Then you can hardly see him, though you look right at him. You can see in the picture how he looks.

FOOTNOTE:

[5] See Appendix, 4.

VI

THE CAVE-DWELLING FAMILY

(_Troglodytidae_)[6]

FIRST BRANCH

THIS is a family of singers, who dress in plain colors. There is not a red or blue stripe, and not a yellow or purple feather, among them.

The family has two branches, or subfamilies as the books call them. The first branch, which gives the name to the family, is made of birds who are really a sort of cave-dwellers,--the wrens.

Wrens are lively little birds, excitable and afraid of nothing. They are in plain browns, barred off with another shade of the same color. They are so near the color of the ground, where they spend most of their time, that they are not easily seen. They have a way of holding their tails up, some of them much more than others, by which one may know a wren wherever he sees it.

The most common one of the family is the HOUSE WREN. He is found all over the Eastern States. In the Western States the same bird, except in the shade of his coat, is called the Western House Wren.

The house wren is fond of a snug place for a nest. If a wren box is to be had, he will take that; but if not, he will seek some cozy nook, which he will furnish, mostly with fine twigs, and then wait for his mate to appear.

Sometimes the bird takes queer places to live in. I once found a wren family inside a hollow iron hitching-post in a city street. The birds went in through the hole for the hitching-strap. I wondered how the wrenlings would get out through the long, dark pa.s.sage. Another nest was made in an oriole's hanging cradle, after the young orioles had flown.

It was filled up with sticks to make it suitable for baby wrens. One that I found last summer was in a hole in a gate-post.

The place is usually chosen by the male, who stuffs it full of fine twigs, and then sings and calls for his mate to come. He will sing hour after hour his sweet little song, stopping every few minutes to bring another stick to add to his store.

The wren is a droll fellow about one thing,--he never knows when he has enough furniture for his house. He will bring twigs and stuff them into the box or hole, till he can't get another one in. Sometimes even till his mate can't get in herself. A pair began to build in a shed room, and apparently set out to fill the whole room with twigs. They brought in so much stuff that the owner had to stop up the hole they used for a door and make them go somewhere else. He was willing to share the room with them, but he couldn't spare the whole.

The house wren is a plucky little fellow, and as he likes the same kind of places the English sparrow wants, they often quarrel over a box or a nice snug hole. Small as he is, the wren often succeeds in keeping the place he wants, and driving the sparrow away.

English sparrows can be kept out of wren houses by making the opening too small for the bigger bird. An auger hole one inch in diameter will be large enough for wrens, but too small for sparrows. A sparrow has sometimes been seen trying to get into one of these wren boxes, and very droll he looks, when he sticks his head in, and struggles and kicks violently to push himself in.

I found a pair of house wrens in Colorado one summer. The singer spent most of his time scrambling about a pile of brush, apparently trying to make me think that was where he lived. But I was sure he had a mate and a nest somewhere else, and I kept watch for them.

One day I happened to see a little brown bird fly up under the eaves of a summer cottage not much bigger than a tent. On looking closely, I found that there were openings under the eaves. The birds had taken one of these for a door, and built a nest inside, in the box frame over a window. After that I looked at them through another window. Everything went well till the wrenlings left the nest and began to fly around. Then they seemed to lose their wits, or not to mind their parents. They flew wildly about in the cottage, b.u.mping against the gla.s.s, and seeming not able to find the door to get out.

I had not the key to open the big door, so I could not help them in their trouble. And the old birds were so frantic when I looked in at the window, while they were trying to get their family out, that I went away and left them. In an hour or two I went back, and found everything quiet, and the wren babies all out on the trees.

FOOTNOTE:

[6] See Appendix, 5.

VII

THE CAVE-DWELLING FAMILY

SECOND BRANCH

THE second branch of this family is very different from the first; it is composed of mockingbirds, catbirds, and thrashers. These birds were once placed with the thrushes, and by habits and manners they seem to belong there. But, as I told you, families in the bird world are made by structure,--by the way the bird is made. These birds have scales on the leg, and some other things like the wrens, so now they belong to the cave-dwelling family, though they never dwell in caves. They live in shrubbery and low trees. They are larger than any wren, but they are like those birds in being good singers and dressed in plain colors.

Wherever they are placed in the books, they are interesting and delightful birds to know.

The most famous of this branch is the MOCKINGBIRD, found in the Southern States and California. He is a beautiful and graceful fellow in gray, with large white patches in his wings.

The nest of the mockingbird is a rather rough affair, built in a low tree or a bush. One that I saw was in a tree about as high as an apple-tree. The bird gets his food on the ground, and has a curious habit of lifting his wings as he is about to attack a beetle.

The mockingbird is a celebrated singer. Many persons think him the finest in America. He is especially famous for repeating the notes of other birds; but he can imitate other sounds, such as a policeman's rattle, a postman's whistle, and almost anything else. Sometimes a caged one makes mischief by this accomplishment. He has no need to borrow, for he has a fine song of his own.

Besides being famous in this way, he is a very knowing bird, and a most interesting one to study. The young mocker is a spirited fellow, who can't endure to stay in the nest till his wings are strong enough to bear him. He usually tries to fly too soon, and so comes to the ground.