Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1878-05-15
Perils of Bird Life.

BY fiction of the poets birds all sing
praise, if they sing at all, TO the great Gre
ator. Of course, this sounds well, and NAV
have some moral foundation but | can
come as near proving that a catbird curses
and filings out all sorts of abusive epithets at
its enemies, when angry as any one can
come to establishing the song-praise theory.
The season of love-naking is the season of
song, and likewise the season of battles,
among the birds. About the time that the
males begin to strut and look about them for
wives rumors of strife and hints of war begin
to pervade the sweet air aud sunshine of
spring. The males fight for possession of the
comely females, and in turn the females
struggle and boldly battle for queenship of
the gayly feathered males. Then the woods
are stirred with song and shaken with COM
bat. The rustic of wings is continuous, and
the cries of triumph, and the shrieks of de-
feat, are blended together Here sits yellow
throated warbler rocking on a green spray
Of young leaves, gurgling very rapture of
music in his tiny mouth and in answer to
his sweetly erratic song a sobertinted mate
comes to rock by his side. Like flash of
flame, another male strikes him, and the
two roll over and over in the air, fighting
desperately. The female joins the victor,
aud away they go on their love journey
through the cool green groves. Another
female comes along, likes the looks of Mr..
Yellow-throat, and forthwith attacks. If
victorious, she joins wings with her lord,
and floats away down current of bloom
scented air, to find a good place for nest.
So with all the wild, gay singers of the
woods Their days of glory are their days
of battle. Like earnest knights of fairy
land tricked in shining armor and richly
tinted plumes, these little Adventures of
the groves charge down upon the dusky
aisles and across the bright glades to cross
lances with all corners of whatever prowess
or renown. You hear a sharp cry and a
little crash, as of suddenly-crumpled velvet
when the tiny combatants collide in the
lists, aud, after the fight is over, brilliant
feather, slowly falling through the soft air,
is left as a souvenir OF the momentous con-
fict. Two male orioles fighting in mid-air
is pretty sight. Think OF animated
flakes of flame" as DIR. Holmes names
them, whirling over and over, and round
and round, now rushing together with a
flash and hiss, now flying apart to seek
better advantage, and anon beginning a
sparring process, with wink and beak so
rapid and involved that no human eve can
follow the manoeuvers Sharp, quick, snap
| ping sounds of crossing quilts and closing
mandibles tell of sincere work going on in
that revolving mist of jet and gold.
The conclusion | have reached is, that
bird-life so far from being that happy, song
glorfed, praiseful existence so extoled by
p0ets sacred and profane, is one scene of
restless struggle and strife, hunger and
dread and fear and pain. Beset on all sides
10y deadly foes continually pressed by hun
ger, all the time under the influence of some
controlling passion roaming continually by
day, and lowering in dark dread by night,
how can they be happy Look closely into
the eyes of the canary or mocking-bird
while it is singing in the cage. Is the ex-
preston happy one2 You see a sad, wor-
ried, longing CLEAN that has no ioy at its
root, Just so with the wild ones. Their
eyes betray the soulless shallowness of their
so-called songs. Do not dispute this un-
til you have investigated the matter for
Yourself, aud then YOU will not. Go lie
in the shadow of hedge bordering wheat
or oats plat in early summer, and wait till a
meadow-lark or field sparrow perches near
you, then, with good opera glass, scan him
while he sings. Once you have caught the
expression of his eyes, his song never again
will sound the same. Ever afterward. YOU
will hear in it nothing but meaningless,
inartculate rasping, or at best, a liquid
medley of involuntary notes. Put your
self in the orioles place. 1t is May. The
leaves are coming out on the naples and
lhe tdSseis are auoIulnS lne OAKS. III Is