Page:Ornithological biography, or an account of the habits of the birds of the United States of America, vol 2.djvu/374

338 During winter the Cardinal Grosbeak frequently shews itself in the farm-yard, among Turtle-Doves, Jays, Mocking-Birds, and various species of Sparrows, picking up its food from the store daily supplied to the poultry. It now and then seeks refuge at night in the lee of some haystack, or throws itself with many other birds among the thickest branches of the nearest evergreen tree.

The flight of this species is strong and rapid, although seldom continued to any great distance. It is performed by glidings and jerks of the tail. When the bird is alighted it also frequently juts its tail with grace. Like all birds of the genus it hops, bvit does not walk.

Its song is at first loud and clear, resembling the finest sounds produced by the flageolet, and gradually descends into more marked and continued cadences, until it dies away in the air around. During the love-season the song is emitted with increased emphasis by this proud musician, who, as if aware of his powers, swells his throat, spreads his rosy tail, droops his wings, and leans alternately to the right and left, as if on the eve of expiring with delight at the delicious sounds of his own voice. Again and again are those melodies repeated, the bird resting only at intervals to breathe. They may be heard from long before the sun gilds the eastern horizon, to the period when the blazing orb pours down its noonday floods of heat and light, driving the birds to the coverts to seek repose for a while. Nature again invigorated, the musician recommences his song, when, as if he had never strained his throat before, he makes the whole neighbourhood resound, nor ceases until the shades of evening close around him. Day after day the song of the Red Bird beguiles the weariness of his mate as she assidously warms her eggs ; and at times she also assists with the modesty of her gentler sex. Few individuals of our own race refuse their homage of admiration to the sweet songster. How pleasing is it, when, by a clouded sky, the woods are rendered so dark, that were it not for an occasional glimpse of clearer light falling between the trees, you might imagine night at hand, while you are yet far distant from your home — how pleasing to have your ear suddenly saluted by the well known notes of this favourite bird, assuring you of peace around, and of the full hour that still remains for you to pursue your walk in security ! How often have I enjoyed this pleasure, and how often, in due humbleness of hope, do I trust that I may enjoy it again!