Birds -- United States; Natural history -- Outdoor books
days,--white tinged with purple, with black spots on the larger end.
After two weeks of incubation the young are out.
Excepting the American goldfinch, this bird builds later in the season
than any other,--its nest, in our northern climate, seldom being
undertaken until July. As with the goldfinch, the reason is, probably,
that suitable food for the young cannot be had at an earlier period.
Like most of our common species, as the robin, sparrow, bluebird,
pewee, wren, etc., this bird sometimes seeks wild, remote localities
in which to rear its young; at others, takes up its abode near that of
man. I knew a pair of cedar-birds, one season, to build in an
apple-tree, the branches of which rubbed against the house. For a day
or two before the first straw was laid, I noticed the pair carefully
exploring every branch of the tree, the female taking the lead, the
male following her with an anxious note and look. It was evident that
the wife was to have her choice this time; and like one who thoroughly
knew her mind, she was proceeding to take it. Finally the site was
chosen, upon a high branch, extending over one low wing of the house.
Mutual congratulations and caresses followed, when both birds flew
away in quest of building material. That most freely used is a sort of
cotton-bearing plant which grows in old wornout fields. The nest is
large for the size of the bird, and very soft. It is in every respect
a first-class domicile.
On another occasion, while walking or rather sauntering in the woods
(for I have discovered that one cannot run and read the book of
nature), my attention was arrested by a dull hammering, evidently but
a few rods off. I said to myself, "Some one is building a house." From
what I had previously seen, I suspected the builder to be a red-headed
woodpecker in the top of a dead oak stub near by. Moving cautiously in
that direction, I perceived a round hole, about the size of that made
by an inch-and-a-half auger, near the top of the decayed trunk, and
the white chips of the workman strewing the ground beneath. When but a
few paces from the tree, my foot pressed upon a dry twig, which gave
forth a very slight snap. Instantly the hammering ceased, and a
scarlet head appeared at the door. Though I remained perfectly
motionless, forbearing even to wink till my eyes smarted, the bird
refused to go on with his work, but flew quietly off to a neighboring
tree. What surprised me was, that, amid his busy occupation down in
the heart of the old tree, he should have been so alert and watchful
as to catch the slightest sound from without.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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