No. 104 - THE PENNY MAGAZINE - Nov. 16, 1833
THE MOCKING-BIRD
(Abridged from Wilson's 'American Ornithology.'}
THIS celebrated and very extraordinary bird, which, in extent and variety of vocal powers, stands unrivaled by the whole feathered songsters of America or perhaps any other country, is peculiar to the New World; and inhabits a very considerable extent of both North and South America, having been traced from the States of New England to Brazil, and also among many of the adjacent islands. They are, however, much more numerous in those States south than those north of the river Delaware; being generally migratory in the latter, and resident (at least many of them) in the former. A warm climate, and low country not far from the sea, seems most congenial to their nature; the species are accordingly found to be less numerous to the west than east of the great range of Allegheny, in the same parallels of latitude. In these regions the berries of the red cedar, myrtle, holly, many species of smilax, together with gum berries, gall berries, and a profuse variety of others, abound, and furnish them with a perpetual feast. Winged insects also, of which they are very fond and very expert in catching, are there plentiful even in the winter season.
The precise time at which the mocking-bird begins to build his nest varies according to the latitude in which he resides, from the beginning of April to the middle of May. There are particular situations to which he gives the preference. A solitary thorn-bush, an almost impenetrable thicket, an orange-tree, cedar, or holly-bush, are favorite spots and frequently selected. It is no great objection to the bird that a farm or mansion-house happens to be near; always ready to defend, but never over-anxious to conceal, his nest, he very often builds within a small distance of the house, and not infrequently in a pear or apple-tree, rarely at a greater height than six or seven feet from the ground. The nest varies a little according to the conveniency of collecting suitable materials. Generally it is composed of, first, a quantity of dry twigs and sticks, then withered tops of weeds of the preceding year, intermixed with fine straw, hay, pieces of wool and tow; and, lastly, a thick layer of fine fibrous roots, of a light brown color, lines the whole. The female sits fourteen days, and generally produced two broods in the season, unless robbed of her eggs, in which case she will even build and lay the third time. She is, however, very jealous of her nest, and very apt to forsake it if much disturbed.
During the period of incubation, neither cat, dog, animal nor man can approach the nest without being attacked. The cats, in particular, are persecuted whenever they make their appearance, till obliged to retreat. But his whole vengeance is more particularly directed against that mortal enemy of his eggs and young, the black snake. Whenever the insidious approaches of this reptile are discovered, the male darts upon it with the rapidity of an arrow, dexterously eluding its bite and striking it violently and incessantly about the head, where it is very vulnerable. The snake soon becomes sensible of its danger, and seeks to escape; but the intrepid defender of his young redoubles his exertions, and, unless his antagonist be of great magnitude, often succeeds in destroying him. All his pretended powers of fascination avail it nothing against the vengeance of this noble bird. As the snake's strength begins to flag, the mocking-bird seizes and lifts it up partly from the ground, beating it with its wings, and when the business is completed, he returns to the nest of his young, mounts the summit of the bush, and pours forth a torrent of song in token of victory.
The mocking-bird is 9( inches long and 13 across when its wings are spread. Some individuals are, however, larger and some smaller, those of the first hatch being uniformly the largest. The upper parts of the head, neck, and back, are a dark brownish ash, and when new moulted, a fine light grey; the wings and tail are nearly black, the first and second rows of coverts tipped with white; the primary, in some males, are wholly white, in others tinged with brown. The three first primaries are white from their roots as far as their coverts; the white on the next six extends from an inch to one and three-fourths farther down, descending equally on each side the feather; the tail is cuneiform; the two exterior feathers wholly white, the rest, except the middle ones, tipped with white; the chin is white; sides of the neck, breast, belly, and vent, a brownish-white, much purer in wild birds than in those that have been domesticated; iris of the eye, yellowish-cream colored, inclining to golden; bill black; the base of the lower mandible whitish; legs and feet black and strong. The female much resembles the male, and is only distinguishable by the white of her wings being less pure and broad, and her black feathers having a more rusty hue.
It will be seen from this description, that though the plumage of the mocking bird is none of the homeliest, it has nothing gaudy or brilliant in it; and, had he nothing else to recommend him would scarcely entitle him to notice. But his figure is well proportioned and even handsome. The ease, elegance, and rapidity of his movements, the animation of his eye, and the intelligence he displays in listening and laying up lessons, from almost every species of the feathered creation within his hearing, are really surprising, and mark the peculiarity of his genious. To these qualities may be added that of a voice full, strong, and musical, and capable of almost every modulation, from the clear, mellow tones of the wood-thrush to the savage scream of the bald eagle. In measure and accent he faithfully follows his originals; in force and sweetness of expression he greatly improves upon them. In his native groves, mounted on the top of a tall bush or half-grown tree, in the dawn of the morning, while the woods are already vocal with a multitude of warblers, his admirable song rises pre-eminent over every competitor. The ear can listen to his music alone, to which that of all the others seems a mere accompaniment. Neither is his strain altogether imitative. His own native notes are bold and full, and varied seemingly beyond all limits. They consist of short expressions of two, three, or, at the most, five or six syllables, generally interspersed with imitations, and all of them uttered with great emphasis and rapidity, and continued with undiminished ardour for half an hour or an hour at a time. His expanded wings and tail, glistening with white, and the buoyant gaiety of his action, arresting the eye as his song most irresistibly does the ear, he sweeps round with enthusiastic ecstasy, and mounts and descends as his song swells or dies away. While thus exerting himself, a bystander, destitute of sight, would suppose that the whole feathered tribes had assembled together on a trial of skill, each striving to produce his utmost effect. He often deceives the sportsman, and sends him in search of birds that are not, perhaps, within miles of him, but whose notes he exactly imitates; even birds themselves are frequently imposed upon by this admirable mimic, and are decoyed by the fancied calls of their mates, or dive with precipitation into the depth of thickets at the scream of what they suppose to be the sparrow-hawk.
The mocking-bird loses little of the power and energy of his song by confinement. In his domesticated state, when he commences his career of song, it is impossible to stand by uninterested. He whistles for the dog; Cæsar starts up, wags his tail, and runs to meet his master. He squeaks out like a hurt chicken, and the hen hurries about with hanging wings and bristled feathers, chuckling to protect its injured brood. The barking of the dog, the mewing of the cat, the creaking of a passing wheelbarrow, follow with great truth and rapidity. He repeats the tune taught him by his master, runs over the quaverings of the canary, and the clear whistlings of the Virginia nightingale, or red-bird, with such superior execution and effect that the mortified songsters feel their own inferiority, and become altogether silent, while he seems to triumph in their defeat by redoubling his exertions.
This excessive fondness for variety, however, in the opinion of some injures his song. His elevated imitations of the brown thrush are frequently interrupted by the crowing of cocks; and the warblings of the blue-bird, which he exquisitely manages, are mingled with the screaming of swallows or the cackling of hens. Amidst the simple melody of the robin one is suddenly surprised by the shrill reiterations of the whip-poor-will, while the notes of the killdeer, blue-jay, martin, baltimore, and twenty others, succeed, with such imposing reality, that the auditors look round for the originals, and with astonishment discover that the sole performer in this singular concert is the admirable bird now before us. During this exhibition of his powers, he spreads his wings, expands his tail, and throws himself around the cage in all the ecstasy of enthusiasm, seeming not only to sing but to dance, keeping time to the measure of his own music. Both in his native and domesticated state, during the stillness of the night, as soon as the moon rises, he begins his delightful solo, making the whole neighborhood resound with his inimitable medley.
The mocking-bird is frequently taken in trap-cages, and, by proper management, may be made sufficiently tame to sing. The usual price of a singing-bird is from seven to fifteen, and even twenty dollars. Mr. Wilson has known fifty dollars paid for a remarkably fine singer; and one instance where one hundred dollars were refused for a still more extraordinary one. Attempts have been made to induce these charming birds to pair, and rear their young in a state of confinement, and the result has been such as to prove it, by proper management, perfectly practicable.
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