Voices of a New England Marsh 55
one is near the spot where they are uttered, may be heard, under favorable conditions, at a distance of fully half a mile.
Another equally mysterious bird which we hear occasionally in May or June (but by no means every season) in the Fresh Pond marshes, and which we have some reasons for believing may be the King Rail, utters a grunting umfib, umpb, umpb, umpb, usually deep and guttural, but sometimes rather harsh and vibrant, and not unlike the quacking of a hoarse-voiced Duck. These notes are all on the same key and separated by rather wide but approximately regular intervals.
About the beginning of July the Robins, Song Sparrows and Swamp Sparrows enter on a second song period which lasts for several weeks. During the latter part of this month and most of August the marshes are enlivened by the presence of great flocks of young Red—wings and Bobo- links, which assemble to feed on the seeds of the wild rice and of various other semi-aquatic sedges or grasses, as well as by swarms of Swallows, most of which have come down from the north. The Redeings utter now a chattering [ha-[ha cry, the Bobolinks a liquid, resonant pin}. The latter sound is especially characteristic of this season, as is also the rapid, musical whistle of the Upla‘nd Plover which we occasionally hear about sunrise towards the end of August.
Early in summer the hull frogs and green frogs hold high revels in the marshes, especially at night. Every one, of course, is familiar with the deep, heavy bass of the bull frog, although it oftencr provokes ridicule than inspires the admiration which its fine sonorous quality really merits. The green frog utters an abrupt, incisive tung, lung- tung-tung, the last three notes being lower in the scale than the first and the general effect very like that produced by “strumming” slowly on the strings of a bass Viol. Both of these frogs may be heard as early as the latter part of l\’Iay and as late as September, but they are most vociferous in June and July.
Late in August or early in September the rank, fully-matured vege- tation of the marshes begins to show traces of russet, but the prevailing color is still green of various shades blended-with delicate tints of lavender and purple. The tall, graceful reeds which fringe the pools and ditches are now alive with Rails and Sparrows of several species. These birds vary greatly in numbers from day to day as the successive flights arrive from the north and pass on still further southward. The Sparrows are conspicuous enough, for they are constantly calling to one another and flying back and forth across the open spaces, but the presence of the Rails is not likely to be discovered, at least during the midday hours, unless they are startled by some sudden sound. If they are at all numerous the report of a gun or the splash of a stone thrown into the shallow water among the reeds will be instantly followed by a chorus of my.
