The subject, whose habits we are about to introduce to our readers, has a wide range, and is variously distributed. It is found from Florida to Canada, and westward from the Atlantic to California. Audubon met with it along the Mississippi River, the upper branches of the Arkansas, and also in Upper Canada. Dr. Woodhouse found it quite common in New Mexico, Texas and the Indian Territory. In Nebraska it appears to be exceedingly rare, as it was only seen on two occasions by Ridgway in the summer of 1867. Wilson traced it north to Lake Ontario, from the Choctaw and Chickasaw nations. Outside of the United States, on the south, it has been observed by various parties: Newton, upon St. Croix Island; Gosse, in Jamaica; Salvin, in Central America; Lembeye, in Cuba; and even as far south as Buenos Ayres.

Respecting its eastern record of distribution, writers on ornithology are pretty generally agreed. West of the Rocky Mountains, its range is not so well made out. Early observers accredited it to Oregon, but, in recent times, there has not appeared any confirmation of their statements. Its presence, even in California, was for a long time doubted, and it was thought that, as the notes of the Burrowing Owl resembled those of the Cuckoo, many may have been deceived thereby. So close is the likeness, that Dr. Coues acknowledges that he would have been deluded himself, had he not been forewarned. According to Cooper the noise produced by the Spade-footed Toad exhibits marked similarity. But there is now no longer any hesitancy in including it in the avi-fauna of that State.

We are first apprised of the coming of this species into our midst by the peculiar notes which it emits. These sound like the syllables koo-koo-koo. As they are probably more frequently uttered on the approach of falling weather than at any other time, both it and its nearest relation—the Black-billed Cuckoo—have received the vulgar appellation of "Rain Crow" for the same uncouth guttural notes are uttered, in the same plaintive manner, and on similar occasions, by both birds, with this exception, however, that the Yellow-billed is noisier, and more forcible in its expressions.

From its first advent late in April, or early in May, until it takes up the line of flight southward in September, this bird startles us by its eccentric behavior. Though remarkably shy and unsociable, it is less so than its congener. In Eastern Pennsylvania, it seldom inhabits high, open woods, for which the latter has a fondness, but manifests a strong preference for low hedges along the borders of fields and public roads, or an isolated pine or apple tree in orchard or garden. In the latter place it is as often seen in the lower, as in the upper, branches. Places remote therefrom, in other States, show a marked change in this respect. Not only does it betray an instinctive dread of man, by seeking the summits of the tallest trees in loose woods, or those of large shade-trees in our city parks, but it also studies how best to conceal itself from his gaze. Though ordinarily hidden birds, but when in search of the various winged insects which contribute to their sustenance, they show rather conspicuously. But they are oftener heard than seen. When ready to change their position, they maintain a long silence, and being assured that the coast is clear, stealthily glide from their perches, and on rapid, noiseless pinions, wend their flight to the coveted spot. On attaining which, they stand like statues for a long time, utter their famous cry, and when surfeited with the sights about them, renew their flight. Thus they keep it up until called to desist therefrom by household duties.

Few species manifest more strongly the faculty of curiosity. When nestled in umbrageous security, so artfully concealed as to elude the keen gaze of detection, this bird is wont to eye everything with inquisitiveness and distrust. Peering down upon you through the dense foliage, there is nothing in its looks to command your pity; but you are reminded of one who has been guilty of wrong, and who fears the consequences. Where accustomed to man, a radical change seems to come over its demeanor. The eye looks out with a milder expression. When we remember that, like the Jays, these birds are abandoned thieves who pilfer the eggs of other and weaker birds, and even devour their helpless offspring, we are not surprised that they should be so sneaking in their actions, and cowardlike. But when the mating period arrives, one would think that the arousing of the hitherto dormant amatory forces into normal activity, would tend to soften their natures, and call into play a better state of feelings. So it does, but only so far as to reconcile the sexes to each other, and force them to forsake their selfish lives. Towards other species they still preserve the same unfriendly relations.

The male, who arrives ten days before the female, is the first to experience a desire for a change of life. Tired of aimless wanderings, he goes off in search of a companion. He is not long in finding one. A recital of his love, in his own peculiar fashion, soon gains a willing listener, and business is settled in an instant. There is none of that amusing frivolity which is known to mark the actions of many of our feathered creatures. He proposes, she accepts, and the matrimonial knot is tied, at least, for another season. While the sexes do not manifest any apparent regard for each other for two or three weeks after their first arrival, being chiefly absorbed in the procurement of food, yet they do not wholly desert each other, but feed within calling distance. From long observations, continued through nearly two decades, we are led to believe that the same birds mate annually, unless prevented by the death of one or the other.

In the choice of a tree these birds are somewhat fastidious in some localities. A preference is often manifested for some species of evergreen, but not unfrequently are they tempted to nest in an osage orange, a barberry bush, a thorn, or an apple. The kind of a bush or tree will doubtless be found to vary with locality. While engaged in looking for a suitable nesting place, the male is very attentive to his partner, and cannot brook her absence. He watches with jealous eye her every movement, and follows her in all her journeyings. Though usually quite cowardly, he is at these times very brave, and will venture to attack any bird that happens near. But as his cowardice is proverbial, he rarely succeeds with birds of his own size, and is often compelled to retire from the battle discomfited.

When a tree is chosen, the happy pair proceed to build their loose, rickety dwelling upon a forked or horizontal branch, at elevations varying from five to seldom more than twenty feet, according to our experience. The nest may be compared to a miniature Crow's. It is mainly composed of small sticks and some grasses, artlessly and loosely interlaced, and so unsubstantial, that it scarcely survives the season. The cavity is quite shallow. The dimensions vary somewhat with the locality, but a specimen before us measures seven inches in diameter, and about three in height. The cavity is nearly four inches wide, and less than one in depth. The construction of such a loose affair ordinarily requires but two days, and is the result of the united efforts of both birds, working with commendable patience and zeal, but not continuously.

As soon as the domicile is finished, the female, after a day spent in congratulating her lord upon their combined success, proceeds to furnish it. This business continues for many days, varying according to the number of eggs laid, and the irregularity in time of laying, eggs being frequently deposited about the time that others are hatching. Nests are often found with a single fresh egg in each, another partly incubated, a newly-hatched bird, and one or more young still further advanced. But, as a rule, only a single egg is daily deposited. Incubation, in the latitude of Philadelphia, often commences when only two eggs are deposited, but instances are recorded where such was the case after the first extrusion, the female depositing others as the process goes on. This seems like a strange fancy of hers, but evidently shows great forethought and prevision.

The rude house which is built for the accommodation of the eggs, being open and much exposed, and made of seemingly unsuitable materials, fails to provide the necessary protection, and thus is necessitated close and arduous sitting by both birds. The hatching of a few young birds at the time when eggs are being laid, secures the continued warmth necessary for development, and thus materially aids parental exertions. In many instances the eggs are deposited before the incubating process has commenced. The time required for hatching is about fourteen days.

While this business is progressing, the male, when not upon the nest, seldom forsakes his partner, save to provide himself and her with food. Perched upon a small limb close-by, he seems all vigilance, and is in constant readiness to reply to her calls. Feelings of the most devoted affection are mutually exchanged. If the eggs are handled, prior to the assumption of incubation, the birds are apt to desert the nest; but when this has commenced, the female is so attached to her young that she will almost permit herself to be captured rather than leave them. If forced to vacate, we have never known her to precipitate herself upon the ground, and seek, by her fluttering and personation of lameness, to draw the intruder away, as Nuttall affirms, but have always observed her to take a position upon a tree in the immediate vicinity, where she would sit silently and demurely contemplating the purposed desecration. Mr. Newton, in his paper on the habits of the birds of St. Croix Island, testifies to the conjugal affection which is evinced by these birds. On one occasion a male had been killed. The female, attracted by his shriek as he fell to the ground, appeared upon the scene, and showed the most intense anxiety.

In the summer of 1872, a nest of this species was placed upon a tree within full view of our window, from which the minutest details of the every-day life of these birds could be closely studied. Children in their plays would frequently pass under the tree while the birds were engaged in breeding, but the latter were so intent upon the work that their presence was unheeded. The nest was completed, eggs were deposited and hatched, and the young matured, the parent birds evidently feeling as secure as in more retired situations. On this occasion it was discovered that when the young were all hatched together, the duty of feeding devolved upon one or the other parent, both never being absent from the nest at the same time. But, on the other hand, where the young are hatched at irregular intervals, the non-incubating bird assumes the duty of providing nourishment both for his mate and early-hatched young, while the other is occupied with the cares of incubation. When the young are able to quit the nest, which they do in little more than a fortnight after hatching, the parents hail the event with great joy. Their efforts to induce them from the nest at first are rather amusing, and evince extreme patience and thorough good-will. But when the step is once taken, their odd, curious gestures betoken the highest pleasure and satisfaction. The young are now almost old enough to care for themselves.

Never more than a single brood is annually raised in Pennsylvania, although Mr. Nuttall affirms that several are brought out, according to his observations. His opinion appears to have been based upon the discovery of eggs as late as August 28. In some localities this may be so, but we cannot find any record thereof. The same distinguished writer has recorded the finding of a Cuckoo's egg in the nest of a Catbird, and another as late as the fifteenth of July, in a Robin's nest. These were considered at first as rare, if not incredible instances, but latterly, we have some well-authenticated cases of such parasitism. These observations, coupled with others equally as important which have been recorded, tend to show a close relationship between our American Cuckoo and their not very distant European brother.

The eggs of this bird are oblong-oval, less spherical than those of the Black-bill, and have an equal obtuseness at each end. They are of light bluish-green color, and, like those of the other, are quite apt to fade on exposure to light, thus rendering them difficult of distinction. The average measurement is 1.22 inches in length, and .94 in width, although specimens are occasionally found which show marked variations in size, some being smaller, but few exceeding these dimensions.

Original Size