Audubon's Birds/BIRDSVER1_3.BIN/dp/0082/00826.txt

Text File | 1992-08-27 | 23KB | 328 lines

$Unique_ID{BRD00826}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{American Robin or Migratory Thrush}
$Subject{Turdinae; Turdus; migratorius; American Robin; Migratory Thrush}
$Journal{Birds of America:  Volume III}
$Volume{Vol. 3:14-21}
$Family{Turdinae}
$Genus{Turdus}
$Species{migratorius}
$Common_Name{American Robin; Migratory Thrush}
$Log{
Plate CXLII*00252p1.scf,51550030.aud
Bird Call*51550030.aud
Family*00230.txt
Genus*00251.txt
}

            (C) (P) Library of Natural Sounds; Cornell Laboratory
       of Ornithology 1990-91, 1992; Ithaca, N.Y., All rights reserved.
       Portions copyright (c) Creative Multimedia Corp., 1990-91, 1992

                       B I R D S   O F   A M E R I C A .

                    By John James Audubon, F. R. SS. L. & E.

                   ------------------------------------------
                                   VOL.  III.
                        --------------------------------


                      AMERICAN ROBIN OR MIGRATORY THRUSH.
             [American Robin.  State Bird of Connecticut, Michigan
                               and Wisconsin.]


                           TURDUS MIGRATORIUS, Linn.
                             [Turdus migratorius.]


                  PLATE CXLII.--MALE, FEMALE, YOUNG, AND NEST.


     The first land-bird seen by me, when I stepped upon the rugged shores of
Labrador, was the Robin, and its joyful notes were the first that saluted my
ear.  Large patches of unmelted snow still dappled the surface of that wild
country; and although vegetation was partially renewed, the chillness of the air
was so peculiarly penetrating, that it brought to the mind a fearful anxiety for
the future.  The absence of trees, properly so called, the barren aspect of all
around, the sombre mantle of the mountainous distance that hung along the
horizon, excited the most melancholy feelings; and I could scarcely refrain from
shedding tears when I heard the song of the Thrush, sent there as if to
reconcile me to my situation.  That song brought with it a thousand pleasing
associations referring to the beloved land of my youth, and soon inspired me
with resolution to persevere in my hazardous enterprise.
     The traveller who, for the first time in his life, treads the wastes of
Labrador, is apt to believe that what he has been told or read of it, must be at
least in part true.  So it was with me:  I had conceived that I should meet with
numberless Indians who would afford me much information respecting its rivers,
lakes, and mountains, and who, like those of the far west, would assist me in
procuring the objects of my search.  But alas!  how disappointed was I when, in
rambling along three hundred miles of coast, I scarcely met with a single native
Indian, and was assured that there were none in the interior.  The few
straggling parties that were seen by my companions or myself, consisted entirely
of half-bred descendants of "the mountaineers;" and, as to Esquimaux, there were
none on that side of the country.  Rivers, such as the Natasguan, which on the
maps are represented as of considerable length, degenerated into short, narrow,
and shallow creeks.  Scarcely any of its innumerable lakes exceeded in size what
are called ponds in the Southern States; and, although many species of birds are
plentiful, they are far less numerous than they were represented to us by the
fishermen and others before we left Eastport.  But our business at present is
with the Robin, which greeted our arrival.
     This bird breeds from North Carolina, on the eastern side of the Alleghany
Mountains, to the 56th degree of north latitude, and perhaps still farther.  On
the western side of those mountains, it is found tolerably abundant, from the
lower parts of Kentucky to Canada, at all times of the year; and,
notwithstanding the snow and occasional severe winters of Massachusetts and
Maine, flocks remain in those States the whole season.  Thousands, however,
migrate into Louisiana, the Floridas, Georgia, and the Carolinas, where, in
winter, one cannot walk in any direction without meeting several of them.  While
at Fayetteville, in North Carolina, in October 1831, I found that the Robins had
already arrived and joined those which breed there.  The weather was still warm
and beautiful, and the woods, in every direction, were alive with them, and
echoed with their song.  They reached Charleston by the end of that month.
Their appearance in Louisiana seldom takes place before the middle of November.
In all the Southern States, about that period, and indeed during the season,
until they return in March, their presence is productive of a sort of jubilee
among the gunners, and the havoc made among them with bows and arrows,
blowpipes, guns, and traps of different sorts, is wonderful.  Every gunner
brings them home by bagsful, and the markets are supplied with them at a very
cheap rate.  Several persons may at this season stand round the foot of a tree
loaded with berries, and shoot the greater part of the day, so fast do the
flocks of Robins succeed each other.  They are then fat and juicy, and afford
excellent eating.
     During the winter they feed on the berries and fruits of our woods, fields,
gardens, and even of the ornamental trees of our cities and villages.  The
holly, the sweet-gum, the gall-berry, and the poke, are those which they first
attack; but, as these fail, which is usually the case in January, they come
nearer the towns and farm-houses, and feed voraciously on the caperia berry
(Ilex caperia), the wild-orange berry (Prunus carolinianus), and the berries of
the pride of India (Melia azedarach).  With these they are often choked, so that
they fall from the trees, and are easily caught.  When they feed on the berries
of the poke-plant, the rich crimson juices colour the stomach and flesh of these
birds to such an extent as to render their appearance, when plucked,
disagreeable; and although their flesh retains its usual savour, many persons
decline eating them.  During summer and spring they devour snails and worms, and
at Labrador I saw some feeding on small shells, which they probed or broke with
ease.
     Toward the approach of spring they throw themselves upon the newly ploughed
grounds, into the gardens, and the interior of woods, the undergrowth of which
has been cleared of grass by fire, to pick up ground-worms, grubs, and other
insects, on which, when perched, they descend in a pouncing manner, swallowing
the prey in a moment, jerking their tail, beating their wings, and returning to
their stations.  They also now and then pick up the seed of the maize from the
fields.
     Whenever the sun shines warmly over the earth, the old males tune their
pipe, and enliven the neighbourhood with their song.  The young also begin to
sing; and, before they depart for the east, they have all become musical.  By
the 10th of April, the Robins have reached the Middle Districts; the blossoms of
the dogwood are then peeping forth in every part of the budding woods; the
fragrant sassafras, the red flowers of the maple, and hundreds of other plants,
have already banished the dismal appearance of winter.  The snows are all
melting away, and nature again, in all the beauty of spring, promises happiness
and abundance to the whole animal creation.  Then it is that the Robin, perched
on a fence-stake, or the top of some detached tree of the field, gives vent to
the warmth of his passion.  His lays are modest, lively, and ofttimes of
considerable power; and although his song cannot be compared with that of the
Thrasher, its vivacity and simplicity never fail to fill the breast of the
listener with pleasing sensations.  Every one knows the Robin and his song.
Excepting in the shooting season, he is cherished by old and young, and is
protected by all with anxious care.
     The nest of this bird is frequently placed on the horizontal branch of an
apple-tree, sometimes in the same situation on a forest-tree; now and then it is
found close to the house, and it is stated by NUTTALL that one was placed in the
ster