the following animated description of the habits of this bird of the wilderness :-" His favourite residence is in the dark solitudes of deep swamps, covered with a growth of gigantic timber. Here, as soon as evening draws on, and mankind retire to rest, he sends forth such sounds, as seem scarcely to belong to this world, startling the solitary pilgrim as he slumbers by his forest fire, 'making night hideous.' Along the mountainous shores of the Ohio, and amidst the deep forests of Indiana, alone, and reposing in the woods, this ghostly watchman has frequently warned me of the approach of morning, and amused me with his singular exclamations. Sometimes sweeping down and around my fire, uttering a loud and sudden Waugh O! Waugh O! sufficient to have startled a whole garrison. He has other nocturnal solos no less melodious; one of which very strikingly resembles the half-suppressed screams of a person suffocating, and cannot fail of being exceeding entertaining to a lonely, benighted traveller, in the midst of an Indian wilderness."

THE VIRGINIAN OWL.

When wand'ring afar in the woods of the west,
The traveller pauses at night-fall to rest,

He kindles his fire, and the evening breeze
Sends the flickering light 'mid the forest-trees,
Cheered by the genial warmth it has shed,
He lies down to rest on his leafy bed;
And sweetly he sleeps, till a sudden scream
Breaks on his slumber, and chases his dream.
He wakes, and the note of the night-flying bird,
Waugh O! Waugh O! round his watch-fire is heard,
And he knows that the forest-warder is he,
Keeping his guard round the traveller's tree.
'Watchman, what of the night?" he cries,
And closes again his wearied eyes.

Children of luxury, come hither and see,
How the pilgrim can rest by the forest-tree;
Though the night-falling dews descend on his brows,
Yet sweetly he sleeps beneath the green boughs.
Calmly he rests, till the night-bird again,
Rouses him up with his far sounding strain.
Notes of deep omen, that well might affright,
The wanderer that rests by that lonely light.
He wakes, and the voice of the night-flying bird,
Waugh O! Waugh O! round his watch-fire, is heard.
But he knows that the forest-warder is he,
Keeping his guard round the traveller's tree.
"Watchman, what of the night ?" he cries,
And closes again his wearied eyes.

33

THE SECOND ORDER.

PASSERES.

The order Passeres is the most numerous of the entire class. It embraces all the birds which are neither swimmers, nor waders, nor climbers, nor rapacious, nor gallinaceous. The Passeres have neither the violent character of the birds of prey, nor the fixed regimen of the Gallinacea, or of the water-fowl. Their food consists of insects, fruits, and grains. It is more exclusively graniverous in proportion to the thickness of the bill; and more exclusively insectivorous as the latter is more attenuated. Some, which possess a very strong bill, are even found to pursue small birds.—Cuvier.

[It will be observed, that in arranging the Passeres, we have followed the order of the French naturalist, though it has not been thought necessary to notice his numerous divisions of genus and sub-genus.]

ORDER PASSERES.

The Bell-Bird. Campanero.

Ampelis Carunculata.

THIS is another of the beautiful and curious birds found in the forests of South America ; and rarely seen or heard, save by those

travellers whose wanderings have led them into the deep recesses of the transatlantic wilderness. One such wanderer has given to the world an animated narrative of his singular and interesting pilgrimage and we quote from his amusing work the following account of the campanero.

"The celebrated campanero of the Spaniards, is called Dara by the Indians, and Bell-bird by the English. He is about the size of a jay. His plumage is as white as snow. On his forehead rises a spiral tube, nearly three inches long. It is jet black, dotted all over with small white feathers. It has a communication with the palate, and when filled with air, looks like a spire; when empty, it becomes pendulous. His note is loud and clear, like the sound of a bell, and may be heard at the distance of three miles.

"In the midst of the extensive wilds, generally on the dried top of an aged mora, almost out of gun-reach, you will see the campanero. No sound or song from any of the winged inhabitants of the forest, not even the clearly pronounced, "Whip-poor-Will," from the goatsucker, cause such astonishment as the toll of the campanero. With many of the feathered race he pays the common tribute of a morning and an evening song: and even when the meridian sun has shut in silence the mouths of

v.p24 per con

See p25

of Natural History, for May, 1830; and in the Architecture of Birds.

THE SONG OF THE THRUSH.

Ere the morning light

Had chased the night,

Oh! did ye not hear a wild trilling song,
Floating the op'ning vallies among ?
From dawn of day,

That warbling lay

Seem'd as though it would charm the darkness away

Hark, how the air rings!
"Tis the mavis sings;

And merrily, merrily sounds her voice,
Calling on vallies and hills to rejoice;
For winter is past,

And the stormy blast

Is hastening away to the northward at last.

Awake! land and sea,

And rejoice with me;

Awake! she cries, from your winter's repose,
Awake! for the south wind softly blows;

Wake, birds of the bowers,

The moments are ours,

Wake! wake! and welcome the season of flowers.

Awake! and sing,

For the joyous spring,

Is hanging green wreaths on the forest-trees,
And shedding sweet odours on every breeze.
Wake, birds of song!

Why linger so long?

Wake! wake! and rejoice with our merry throng.