Where plenty of
the berries of the red cedar can be had, the cedar-bird will pass
the winter in New York. The old ornithologists say the bluebird
migrates to Bermuda; but in the winter of 1874-75, severe as it
was, a pair of them wintered with me eighty miles north of New York
city. They seem to have been decided in their choice by the
attractions of my rustic porch and the fruit of a sugar-berry tree
(celtis--a kind of tree-lotus) that stood in front of it. They
lodged in the porch and took their meals in the tree. Indeed, they
became regular lotus-eaters. Punctually at dusk they were in their
places on a large laurel root in the top of the porch, whence,
however, they were frequently routed by an indignant broom that was
jealous of the neatness of the porch floor. But the pair would not
take any hints of this kind, and did not give up their quarters in
the porch or their lotus berries till spring.
Many times during the winter the sugar-berry tree was visited by a
flock of cedar-birds that also wintered in the vicinity. At such
times it was amusing to witness the pretty wrath of the bluebirds,
scolding and threatening the intruders, and begrudging them every
berry they ate. The bluebird cannot utter a harsh or unpleasing
note. Indeed, he seems to have but one language, one speech, for
both love and war, and the expression of his indignation is nearly
as musical as his song. The male frequently made hostile
demonstrations toward the cedar-birds, but did not openly attack
them, and, with his mate, appeared to experience great relief when
the poachers had gone.
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