Catbird

“ The Catbird’s power of mimicry, though limited and imperfectly exercised, is frequently very amusing. The more difficult notes it rarely attempts to copy, and signally fails whenever it does so. The whistle of the Quail, the cluck of a hen calling her brood, the answer of the young chicks, the note of the Pewit Flycatcher, and the refrain of Towhee, the Catbird will imitate with so much exactness as not to be distinguished from the original. ”

“ One lovely evening in May, I was walking down a quiet road, looking, as usual, for birds, when all at once there burst upon the sweet silence a loud alarm. "Chack! chack! chack! too! too! t-t-t! quawk! quawk!" at the top of somebody's loud resonant voice, as if the whole bird-world had suddenly gone mad. I looked about, expecting to see a general rush to the spot; but, to my surprise, no one seemed to notice it. A catbird on the fence went on with his bewitching song, and a wood thrush in the shrubbery dropped not a note of his heavenly melody. ”

“ How different from the manners of the robins are the manners of a pair of catbirds that have a nest in the honeysuckle against the side of the first-floor sleeping-porch! Nothing seems farther from the nature of the catbird than the hue and cry which the robin at times sets up. The catbird is sly and dislikes publicity. An appealing feline mew is her characteristic note. She never raises her voice like the town-crier, as the robin does, perched in the mean time where all eyes may behold him. The catbird peers and utters her soft protest from her hiding-place in the bushes. ”

“ The thrush never has the air of a culprit, while the catbird seldom has any other air. But I welcome them both. One shall stand for the harmony and repose of bird life, and the other for its restlessness and curiosity. The songs and the manners of birds correspond. The catbird, the brown thrasher, and the mockingbird are all theatrical in their manners—full of gestures of tail and wings, and their songs all imply an audience, while the serene melody of the thrushes is in keeping with the grace and poise of their behavior. ”

“ It is indeed absolutely unique. The catbird and the mocking-bird are rare mimics; but while the chat is not their equal in this respect, it has a large repertoire of weird, uncanny cries all its own — a power of throwing its voice, like a human ventriloquist, into unexpected corners of the thicket or meadow. ”

“ The Catbird is a courageous little creature, and in defense of its young it is so bold that it will contrive to drive away any snake that may approach its nest, snakes being its special aversion. His voice is mellow and rich, and is a compound of many of the gentle trills and sweet undulations of our various woodland choristers, delivered with apparent caution, and with all the attention and softness necessary to enable the performer to please the ear of his mate. ”

“ The Catbird, when once established as a welcome guest, soon makes itself perfectly at home. He is to be seen at all times, and is almost ever in motion. They become quite tame, and the male bird will frequently apparently delight to sing in the immediate presence of man. Occasionally they will build their nest in close proximity to a house, and appear unmindful of the presence of the members of the family. ”

“ So it went on till both families were grown up and could fly.
One writer says: "All day long the catbird watches over the fruit-trees, and kills the insects that would destroy them or the fruit. Of course he takes his share, especially of cherries, but for every one he takes, he eats thousands of insects. Where there are no small birds, there will be no fruit." Thirty grasshoppers have been found in [39] one small catbird's stomach by the Department of Agriculture.
A story showing how much the catbird knows and understands is of one in Iowa who had a nest in some vines over a porch. ”

“ The catbird dearly loves to tease. I often saw one hide near the approach to an orchard oriole's nest, watching him with shining eyes of mischief. He never actually molested the oriole, and would fly away to some slender, swinging twig, after he had succeeded in startling the nest owner into a state of nervous alarm, so that he would complain to his mate for a half hour. The little scamp seemed thoroughly to enjoy his fright. He has keen vision, and darts down with wonderful swiftness on a worm far below his perch, while he can wheel and turn with surprising ease in pursuit of any victim. ”

“ It is one of the loveliest nests in the world. A slim, graceful, olive-green little bird glides out from beneath the maple-leaves as we approach, perches near by and watches us silently. Though she does not mew and scream as did the catbird, she is just as anxious, you may be sure. ”

“ The catbird is mild and feminine compared with this rollicking polyglot. His voice is very loud and strong and quite uncanny. No sooner have you penetrated his retreat, which is usually a thick undergrowth in low, wet localities, near the woods or in old fields, than he begins his serenade, which for the variety, grotesqueness, and uncouthness of the notes is not unlike a country skimmerton. If one passes directly along, the bird may scarcely break the silence. ”

“ The catbird’s egg is a rich greenish blue without a freckle; the mocking bird’s is a paler, and blotched about the big end with cinnamon brown. When it comes to æsthetic standards I suppose the catbird’s egg is the more beautiful, but any boy will agree with me that the mocker’s egg with its wondrous blotching is the prettier. The blotching on birds’ eggs is always a wonder and a delight. I remember the awed ecstasy with which as a small boy I looked upon the eggs of a sharp-shinned hawk, after having perilously climbed a big pine in a lonely part of the forest to view them. ”

“ It is that quality which Nature alone supplies and no cultivation nor perfection of method can give. When he speaks to his mate in an undertone his voice would melt a heart of stone. There is a time, however, when the catbird rises above any suspicion of self-consciousness [Pg 50] and is transported, and the listener with him, in a reverie of exceeding beauty. It is a wondrous love-song, an incomparable madrigal, blending with the morning sunshine and the first green leaves of the alders, soft and low as faint murmurings of a stream, a fluid melody uttered for chosen ears. ”

“ Mimus carolinensis, Gray. Catbird.—I first observed a single specimen of this bird April 25, 1879. It was then my opinion that this bird must be a very rare migrant, as I did not meet with another that year. It was this year (1881) , May 5, when I wandered through the thick underbrush in the woods on Spring Creek that I heard the peculiar cry of the Catbird, and a few minutes after I discovered the nest, which was built in a young oak sapling, about ten feet above the ground. They are not the familiar and confident birds of the Northern States, but extremely shy and retiring in their habits. ”

“ Nature’s first great law is the perpetuation of species, and everything we see in the June woods and fields, from the giant white oak to the busy ant, is diligently obeying that law. The red-winged blackbird circles over our heads with sharp, anxious chirps, for we have disturbed the young red-wings down in the sedge who are taking their first lessons in flying. The catbird’s nest, with four greenish-blue eggs, is in a wild gooseberry bush and the catbird is up among the shad-trees feasting on the ripening June berries. ”

“ He is one of the sweetest singers and his song is something like his cousin’s, the Brown Thrush, only not so loud.
He can imitate the songs of other birds and the sounds of many animals. He can mew like a cat, and it is for this reason that he is called “Catbird.” His sweetest song, though, is soft and mellow and is sung at just such times as this—when thinking of the nest, the eggs, or the young.
The Catbird is a good neighbor among birds. If any other bird is in trouble of any sort, he will do all he can to relieve it. He will even feed and care for little birds whose parents have left them. ”

“ The catbird always attracts attention, and the intruder upon its haunts soon understands that he is not welcome. There is no mistaking the meaning of the sneering voice with which he is saluted, and there is little doubt that this gave rise to the popular prejudice against the bird; but the feeling has been increased by the fact that the species is sometimes a serious annoyance to fruit growers. All such reports, however, seem to come from the prairie country of the West. In New England, according to the writer's experience the catbird is seldom seen about gardens or orchards ”

“ The catbird [15] (fig. 6) , like the thrasher, is a lover of swamps and delights to make its home in a tangle of wild grapevines, greenbriers, and shrubs, where it is safe from attack and can find its favorite food in abundance. It is found throughout the United States west to the Rocky Mountains, and extends also from Washington, Idaho, and Utah northward into the provinces of Canada. It winters in the Southern States, Cuba, Mexico, and Central America. ”

“ I have heard that a catbird has imitated perfectly a strain of 'Yankee Doodle' and other music. Sometimes, one will become tame and live in the home of its human friends, in this way learning to utter sounds peculiar to mortals. One catbird is said to have cried so naturally like the baby of the house that the mother never could tell which it was—baby or bird."
[300]
"I think I'll choose a wren for my bird—they are so small and busy all day long," said Hilda.
"I know a very pretty story of Jenny Wren, so you may begin to earn it just as soon as you like," replied Miss Miller. ”

“ The hound will track his master along a frequented street an hour behind his footsteps, by the imponderable odour of his soles. The catbird, without atlas or geographic manuals, will find her way back over hundreds of trackless leagues, season after season, to the same old nesting-place in the thicket. Birds, thousands of them, journey from Mexico to Arctic America, from Algiers and Italy to Spitzbergen, from Egypt to Siberia, and from Australia and the Polynesian Islands to New Zealand, and build their nests and rear their young, year after year, in the same vale, grove, or tundra. ”

“ Nyoda’s is the bluebird; Hinpoha’s the loon; Medmangi’s is the owl; Nakwisi’s the meadowlark and Sahwah’s the catbird.”
[28]
“Whatever made you take such a hideous screech for your call, Sahwah?” interrupted Hinpoha. “There are lots of nicer bird calls than that of the catbird.”
“I don’t care, I wanted the catbird,” returned Sahwah. “It suits my individuality, as my dear friend, Miss Snively, would say. I am the ‘cat that walks by himself and all places are alike to me!’”
“Be a catbird as much as you like,” said Gladys pacifically, “as long as you don’t eat us poor bird-birds. ”

“ The Thrasher is a Ground Gleaner, who spends most of his time in the underbrush, having a great appetite for the wicked May beetle; but he does not live near the ground only, mounting high in a tree when he wishes to sing, as if he needed the pure high air in order to breathe well, and he never sings from the heart of a thick bush, as the Catbird does so frequently. ”

“ The catbird, however, has the courage of his convictions, and one of these convictions is that he has the right to the satisfaction of an ungovernable and enormous curiosity. Bait your bird trap in the woods with something which strikes a bird as a curiosity that courts immediate investigation and you will catch a catbird. ”

“ We need not be ornithologists to be thrilled when the Robin's song in March awakes long silent echoes, or the Thrasher's solo rings loud and clear on an April morning. The Catbird singing from near his last year's home in the thickening shrubbery, the House Wren whose music bubbles over between bustling visits to an oft-used bird-box, the Chimney Swift twittering cheerily from an evening sky, may be heard without even the effort of listening and each one, with a hundred others, brings us a message if we will but accept it. ”

“ Near by in the foreground were the catbird and the brown thrasher, the former in the bushes, the latter on the top of a hickory. These birds are related to the mockingbird, and may be called performers; their songs are a series of vocal feats, like the exhibition of an acrobat; they throw musical somersaults, and turn and twist and contort themselves in a very edifying manner, with now and then a ventriloquial touch. The catbird is the more shrill, supple, and feminine; the thrasher the louder, richer, and more audacious. ”

“ The bird is too wise to sing very near its well-hidden nest, which is placed either directly on the damp ground or not far above it, and usually near water. Throughout its life the veery seems to show a distrust of us that, try as we may, few have ever overcome.
If you have thought that the thrush-like, cinnamon brown, speckle-breasted bird, with a long twitching tail like a catbird's, and a song as fine as a catbird's best, would be mentioned among the robin's relations, you must guess again, for he is the brown thrasher, not a thrush at all. ”

“ See him high in air in hot pursuit of that big, black, villainous crow, who dared try to rob his nest, darting about the rascal's head and pecking at his eyes until he is glad to leave the neighbourhood! There seems to be an eternal feud between them. Even the marauding hawk, that strikes terror to every other feathered breast, will be driven off by the plucky little kingbird. But surely a courageous home defender is no tyrant. A kingbird doesn't like the scolding catbird for a neighbour, or the teasing blue jay, or the meddlesome English sparrow, but he simply gives them a wide berth. ”

“ In due time incubation began, and thenceforth all went well with our dusky neighbors.
It is an anxious moment for all birds when their young leave the nest. One noontime by the unusual mewing of a parent catbird I felt sure that the critical time had come. Sure enough, there sat one of the young on a twig a few inches above the nest, motionless and hushed. No lusty response to the agitated cry of the mother, as is usually the case with the robin. "No publicity" is the watchword of the young catbirds as well as of the old. ”