National Geographic Magazine/Volume 31/Number 4/Friends of Our Forests
|←A Tribute to America||The National Geographic Magazine
Volume 31, No. 4 [April 1917]
|The Burden France Has Borne→|
Friends of Our Forests
By Henry W. Henshaw, with illustrations by Louis Agassiz Fuertes
At every stage of their growth, from the seed to the adult tree, our forest, shade, and orchard trees are subject to the attacks of hordes of insect enemies, which, if unchecked, would soon utterly destroy them.
What the loss of our forest and shade trees would mean to us can better be imagined than described. Wood enters into so many products that it is difficult to think of civilized man without it, while the fruits of our orchards also are of the greatest importance. Aside from the economic loss, which can hardly be imagined, much less estimated, how barren the world would seem shorn of our forests and beautiful shade trees!
Fortunately, the insect foes of trees are not without their own persistent enemies, and among them are many species of birds whose equipment and habits specially fit them to deal with insects and whose entire lives are spent in pursuit of them. Many insects at one or another stage of their existence burrow deeply into the bark or even into the living wood of trees, and so are quite safe from ordinary bird enemies. Woodpeckers, however, being among the most highly specialized of birds, are wonderfully equipped to dig into wood and to expose and destroy these hidden foes.
Certain insects that largely confine their attacks to the smaller branches and terminal twigs are sought out and preyed upon by nuthatches, creepers, titmice, and warblers. Others, and their number is legion, attack the blossoms and foliage, and here the nimble and sharp-eyed warblers render supreme service, the number of plant lice and lepidopterous larvæ they destroy in a single day almost challenging belief.
Thus our woodland songsters are among the most important of all our birds, and in their own field render man unequaled service. Moreover, very few have any injurious habits, and the little harm they do, if any, weighs as nothing in the balance when compared with the good. By reason of their numbers and their activity in hunting insects, our warblers take first place as preservers of the forest, and the following account, which treats of about half the total number, is devoted to the more conspicuous, the more important, and the commoner species.
The warbler family
Our wood warblers are assembled in a rather loosely defined family (the Mniotiltidæ), embracing in all about 140 species, of which more than a third are visitors to the United States. They are fairly well distributed over the country at large, although more species make their summer homes in the eastern half of the United States than in the western.
A number of notable species, however, summer in the West, as they do also in the Southern States. Our New World warblers are quite unlike their Old World relatives, the Sylviidæ, or true warblers, whose family includes some 75 genera and between 500 and 600 species.
Not only do our American species differ structurally in many particulars from their Old World representatives, especially in possessing nine instead of ten primaries, but they differ markedly also in appearance and habits. It may be said in passing that while our warblers are brilliantly colored and many of them sexually dissimilar, those of the Old World are not only small, but plainly plumaged; moreover, the sexes are generally alike in coloration.
The larger number of our warblers, as well as the most characteristic, are included in the one genus Dendroica, which is notable, since it includes more species than any other genus of North American birds.
Haunts of wood warblers
Fortunately for the bird lover, our wood warblers are not recluses. They are creatures of light and sunshine. Some of them, it is true, retire to the mountain fastnesses or the depths of coniferous forests during the nesting period; but the number of these is small and their withdrawal for only a comparatively short time, while the majority at all times of the year favor the edges of the forest, open woods, or brushy clearings.
Their preference for such situations brings many within the bounds of civilization and renders it comparatively easy for any one so inclined to make their acquaintance. As during migration they assemble in flocks, they are, on the whole, pretty well known; and since, as a rule, they are not shy, they have long been favorite objects of observation and study.
Warblers as songsters
Despite their name, which would seem to imply musical ability of no mean order, our wood warblers, with few exceptions, occupy no very high place in the musical galaxy. All sing, however, after a fashion, and the musical efforts of some are pleasing, even according to human standards. While most warblers are prodigal enough with their music and sing early and often, especially prior to and during the nesting season, their music is frequently so faint as to be audible only to the trained ear of the bird lover.
As if aware of their musical inferiority, few display much enthusiasm in their vocal efforts, but sing while they work, or while pausing for a brief moment as they move among the foliage hunting for food. With them, singing appears to be an audible expression of general content and well being, and, no doubt, an effort to please and attract their mates.
Certain members of the thrush and thrasher families, on the contrary, which contain in their ranks the prima donnas of our bird world, as if conscious of their supremacy, are wont to mount a commanding perch when about to sing, and to pour out their melody for all the world to hear. With them, singing is not merely incidental to the day's work. It is a conscious and supreme effort, and is much too important to be slighted or shared with any other function. Apparently they appreciate to a great extent and enjoy their own outpourings, and, if we may interpret their feelings by human standards, are conscious that their musical offerings entitle them to an audience.
Tropical origin of warblers
Not only do their bright colors suggest a tropical origin of our warblers, but their whole makeup is in keeping with tropical surroundings. Warblers are thinly feathered and delicately organized and most of them incapable of withstanding any great degree of cold. They are also almost exclusively insect eaters, only a few of the family being at all vegetarian, and these only to a comparatively small extent.
Hence, with them, migration is not a matter of choice, but is imperative. They come to us on a particular errand for a few short months, and when family cares are at an end, back they hie to the tropics, the lands of warmth and sunshine, which lend them to us for a brief season. Thus the true home of our warblers is not where they nest, but where they spend three-fourths of their lives—not the north, but the south—not in the temperate, but in the tropical zones.
The spectacular migration of warblers
That wonderful phenomenon, bird migration, is illustrated by few birds so clearly and convincingly as by our wood warblers. Assuredly no other birds—unless it be the geese—migrate in such a spectacular manner. The stroller, in late August or September, finds himself in the woods, the silence being broken only by the drumming of a distant partridge, the chirping of insects, or other familiar sounds which only emphasize the general quiet that prevails.
Presto! The scene changes! The woods, apparently almost tenantless but a moment before, are now filled with life of the most animated and intense kind. Every shrub, every tree, has its feathered occupant. Our observer recognizes perhaps a dozen or twenty species, representing several distinct families; but prominent among them, by reason of numbers, variegated plumage, graceful forms, and active motions, are the wood warblers.
Every individual is alert and busy, gliding from one twig to another near by, or flying from one tree to the next, while from all sides come the soft calls and notes of individual members of the flock, whose friendly converse has the effect, if not the purpose, of keeping the individuals of the assemblage in touch with each other and with the flock as a unit. In a few moments silence again reigns where all was commotion and activity. The birds have passed on their seemingly aimless course.
If the observer would learn the solution of the mystery of the birds' evident hurry, he has only to follow them for a time, when he will find that, however erratic may seem the course of individual members of the flock, the flock as a whole is steering a tolerably straight course southward. In other words, he is in the midst of a flock of birds en route to their winter quarters and, in order to economize time, feeding as they go. This, however, is not the only way warblers migrate, nor is it the most important, since the greater part of the long journey of many is performed by night.
Any one with good ears has only to listen on a clear, frosty night in fall to hear hundreds of warblers and other birds as they flit by, a few hundred yards above the earth, the call notes coming incessantly out of the darkness. The route of these flying hosts often carries them above cities, and one cannot be insensible to the incongruity between his surroundings and the woodland scenes, so vividly brought to mind by the lisping notes coming from the darkness overhead. The subject of migration has not inspired our poets so often as might be expected, but Longfellow, in his “Birds of Passage,” gives us the following wonderfully suggestive lines:
But the night is fair, And everywhere A warm, soft vapor fills the air, And distant sounds seem near; And above, in the light Of the star-lit night, Swift birds of passage wing their flight, Through the dewy atmosphere. I hear the beat Of their pinions fleet, As from the land of snow and sleet They seek a southern lea. I hear the cry Of their voices high, Falling dreamily through the sky, But their forms I cannot see.
Probably because insects constitute such an important part of their food, warblers, as a rule, migrate early in fall and late in spring. It is true that in fall many linger till frosts nip the vegetation; but insects are abroad even later than this, and it is only necessary to watch these late migrants for a short time to learn that their search for insects is being well rewarded.
Only a few species come north early in spring, the great bulk of the warblers evidently having been taught by bitter experience that in spring, at least, it is not the early bird that finds most worms or finds them easiest.
Flocking of small birds
Just why small birds, when migrating, congregate in large flocks and troop through the woodlands has often been the subject of speculation. Juncos, several species of sparrows, woodpeckers, nuthatches, chickadees, creepers, and, above all, warblers, combine to swell the ranks of these migrating companies. As many as a dozen or more species of warblers may often be seen in one flock, which, in addition, may include 200 or 300 individuals, representing a number of families whose tastes and habits in every-day life differ very widely.
Yet here are these incongruous elements mingling together on terms of the utmost friendliness. Since birds are sociable beings, except during the short time when family cares prompt to jealous vigilance, sociability alone may be the bond of union; added, however, to the kindly feeling of companionship probably is a feeling of increased security which comes from numbers. Certainly no enemy can approach one of these bird assemblages without being spied by at least one pair of vigilant eyes, when the flock is immediately notified by a few sharp chirps—warning for every individual to seek safety in flight or to scurry to cover.
What mysterious sense guides them in their long journeys?
In what manner warblers migrate—that is, how they are guided on their long journeys—is a moot question. Little mystery attaches to their ability to find their way north or south in daylight, since the recognizable landmarks are many and prominent. As most birds, especially the warblers, choose starlight and moonlight nights for their trips, perhaps they are similarly guided by night, and natural landmarks, as mountains, rivers, and the coastline may point out much, if not all, of their way.
However plausible this explanation may sound in the case of birds migrating over land, it utterly fails when applied to migrants whose journeys north and south necessitate flight over long stretches of ocean, in some instances at least 2,000 miles, quite out of sight of land and of all landmarks.
In seeking an explanation of the mystery of birds' ability to find their way under such circumstances, many are inclined to reject the one-time sufficient answer, “instinct,” in favor of the more recent theory, the possession by birds of another faculty, the so-called “sense of direction.” This added sense enables birds to return to a known locality with no other aid than an ever-present knowledge of the right direction.
But, in the case of our wood warblers, there is little need of appealing to another sense to guide them in migration, or, indeed, to anything out of the ordinary save excellent memory and good eyesight. The five-hundred-mile flight toward the tropics across the Gulf of Mexico is made by preference, and however it originated as a fly line, had it proved to be extra hazardous, it might have been abandoned at any time in favor of the apparently safer West Indian route.
But, after all, the Gulf trip involves few hazards other than those connected with storms, since the flight across the water, even at a slow rate, would necessitate a journey of less than 24 hours, and this, no doubt, is quite within the capacity of even the smallest and weakest of the family. Moreover, the South American Continent is too big a mark to be easily missed, and an error of a few hundred miles north or south would make little difference in the safety of the birds.
Why warblers migrate
It may be set down as an axiom that all birds which travel south in fall do so because they must migrate or freeze or starve. Why some of them leave early, when food in their summer home is seemingly so abundant, is indeed a puzzle. Once the nestlings are on the wing and ready for the journey, off they go, old and young.
Nevertheless, by an apparently premature start they only anticipate by a few weeks the time of scarcity when they must go, and perhaps the lesson of bitter experience in the history of the several species has taught them to go when all the conditions are favorable. It is true that every winter a few birds, often a few individuals of a given species, winter far north of the customary winter home. Some of these are evidently stragglers or wanderers which, for some unexplained reason, failed to accompany the rest of their kind on the southward migration. They in no wise affect the general statement, being exceptional in every way.
A few of our warblers in Florida and on other parts of our southern coast do not migrate; but the almost universal rule in the family is to abandon the summer home when the care of the young ceases and to go far southward ere they stop for the winter. Indeed, the males of many species do not trouble themselves much with the care of the nestlings, but prepare to migrate before the young are well on the wing.
A still more flagrant case is that of the hummingbirds. The male deserts the female when she is still on her eggs, shifting the responsibility of caring for the family entirely on her devoted head, while he disports himself among the flowers, leaving for the south long before his exemplary mate and the young are ready.
Some of our species, however, while migrating southward, are satisfied to remain all winter within our boundaries. Thus the pine and palm warblers winter in the Gulf States, while a greater or less number of individuals, representing several species, winter in southern Florida. The great majority, however, winter south of the United States, in Central and South America.
Thus Professor Cooke tells us: “The prairie, black-throated blue, Swainson's, Bachman's, Cape May, and Kirtland's warblers go only to the West Indies. The worm-eating, myrtle, magnolia, chestnut-sided, black-throated green, hooded, blue-winged, Nashville, orange-crowned, parula, palm, and Wilson's warblers, and the chat, go no farther than Central America, while many species spend the winter in South America, including some or all the individuals of the black and white, prothonotary, golden-winged, Tennessee, yellow, cerulean, bay-breasted, black-poll, Blackburnian, Kentucky, Connecticut, mourning, and Canada warblers, the redstart, oven-bird, and both the water-thrushes. Nearly all the warblers of the western United States spend the winter in Mexico and the contiguous portions of Central America.”
Vast numbers succumb
The northward journey in spring, away from the land of sunshine and plenty to the land of uncertain spring weather, is another matter. Probably if all birds that habitually abandon the north and winter in the south were to nest there, their quota, added to the number resident in the tropics, would be too great for the means of subsistence.
Nevertheless, birds are not forced away from their winter quarters by inclement weather or impending famine, but by the subtle physiological change which warns them of the approach of the mating season and fills them with new desires, among which is the compelling one of a return to the spot where they first saw the light, or where they reared last season's brood.
Whatever the cause, the birds are not discouraged by the many and great perils that attend migration, and vast numbers every year succumb to them. Storms, especially off-shore storms, constitute the gravest peril, and there is abundant evidence that millions of birds are annually blown out to sea to find watery graves. Perhaps no family suffers more in the aggregate than the warblers. Thinly feathered, delicately organized, highly insectivorous, they are exposed to unusual dangers while birds of passage to and from their nesting grounds.
It is a matter of common observation that every few years in some given locality, perhaps embracing a region of considerable size, a particular species of warbler or other bird suddenly becomes rare where before common. After a season or so, though sometimes not for years, the equilibrium is reëstablished and the numbers are as before. These changes very probably are the visible signs of migration catastrophes, the result of the sweeping away of a migration wave, composed of one or of many species, in the path of some sudden storm.
Again, many of us have witnessed the dire effects of a prolonged rain and sleet storm in spring, when thousands of luckless migrants find only too late that they have prematurely left the warmth and plenty of their tropical winter refuges. Under such circumstances thousands of migrants perish from the combined effects of cold and starvation, and among them are sure to be great numbers of warblers.
Economic value of warblers
From the esthetic point of view, our warblers, as a group, occupy a high and unique position. They also occupy no uncertain place in the list of our useful birds. Preëminently insectivorous, they spend their lives in the active pursuit of insects. They begin with the eggs, preying upon them whenever and wherever found, and continue the good work when the egg becomes the larva and when the larva becomes the perfect insect.
They are especially valuable in this respect because of the protection they lend to forest trees, the trunk, bark, and foliage of which they search with tireless energy. Their efficiency is vastly increased because the many different species pursue the quest for food in very different ways. While some confine their search chiefly to the trunks and large branches and examine each crack and crevice in the bark for eggs or larvæ, others devote their energies to the twigs and foliage, scanning each leaf and stem with eager eyes. Still others descend to the ground and examine the rubbish and grass for hidden prey, while nearly all are adept at catching insects on the wing.
Each species, however, has a method of its own, more or less unlike that of its fellows, and each excels in some specialty. Not only does the group as a whole specialize on insects, but each individual member of the group still further specializes, so as to leave no loophole for the escape of the enemy.
The quantity of animal food required to drive the avian engine at full speed is so very great that it is no exaggeration to say that practically all the waking hours of our warblers, from daylight to dark, are devoted to food-getting. What this never-ceasing industry means when translated into tons-weight of insects, it is impossible even to guess, but the practical result of the work of our warblers and other insectivorous birds is that we still have our forests, and shall continue to have them so long as we encourage and protect the birds.
In the case of orchards and shade trees, there are other means at our disposal of controlling the insect enemy, notably the use of sprays. Sprays are very important, since birds are too few in number immediately to control insect outbreaks, especially nowadays, when the number of destructive native insects has been so greatly increased by importations from all quarters of the globe. But for the preservation of our forests we must rely largely upon our birds, since the use of sprays or of other agencies over our vast woodland tracts would be too expensive, even were it not quite impracticable for many other reasons.
Means of increasing the number of warblers
Insects are very numerous, and there is reason to believe that much benefit would result if we could multiply the present number of their enemies—the birds. The erection of bird boxes and shelters is an easy way to increase the number of certain species of birds, like swallows and chickadees. Unfortunately, with few exceptions, our warblers do not build their nests in cavities, and hence can not be induced to occupy bird boxes.
Many of them, however, nest in bushes, vines, and shrubbery, and by planting clumps of these near houses something can be done toward increasing the numbers of certain species, as the yellow warbler and the redstart. Because our warblers are chiefly insectivorous, their food habits bar them from the usual bird lunch-counter in times of hard storms.
During migration, warblers are peculiarly exposed to the danger of prowling cats. Many species feed close to or even on the ground, and then they are so much concerned with their own business that any tabby, however old and lazy, is equal to catching one or more individuals daily. The bird lover can do good service by summarily disposing of vagrant cats, which, during migration, work havoc in the ranks of our small birds.
They can also restrain the pernicious activities of their own pets, for these, however well fed, are still subject to the predatory instincts of their wild ancestry, which impel them to stalk a live bird with all the zeal and cunning of their forebears.
Plumages of warblers
Little difficulty is experienced, even by the tyro, in distinguishing warblers from other birds, but to recognize the several species is not so easy, particularly as the adult males and females of many species are markedly dissimilar, while the young, both in the first and second plumages, often differ from the adults. So far as possible the various plumages are shown in the illustrations of the artist, which are so admirable as to do away with the need of descriptive text. All are approximately one-half life size.
The Warblers of North America
|This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1923.
The author died in 1930, so this work is also in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 80 years or less. This work may also be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.