Birds, Illustrated by Color Photography, Vol. 2, No. 2: August, 1897

In Short

This volume serves as a mid-summer installment of a monthly serial dedicated to the popular study of bird life. By pairing lifelike color illustrations with biographical sketches, it provides a bridge between the rigorous world of ornithology and the curiosity of the general public and school-aged children. The work emphasizes observation over collection, championing the idea that a deeper knowledge of a bird’s habits, songs, and nesting patterns fosters a necessary respect for nature. It remains a charming, educational snapshot of late 19th-century American naturalism.

The Story

The text begins by reinforcing a mission of public education. It celebrates the success of the inaugural volume and reaffirms the goal of making bird identification accessible to everyone, from the casual wanderer to the classroom student. The narrative then shifts into a series of focused, bird-by-bird examinations. Each entry acts as a self-contained story, moving from the bird’s physical appearance and regional range to its unique nesting behaviors and dietary preferences.

The arc of the book is defined by its wide survey of species. It highlights the dramatic, aerial fishing of the Osprey, contrasting its life with that of the Bald Eagle. It moves into the marshlands to explore the elusive Sora Rail, whose presence is known more by its "ker-wee" call than by sight. From there, the text ventures into the woods to find the vibrant Kentucky Warbler, a songbird often overlooked due to its shy nature. The journey continues through the northern waters with the Red-Breasted Merganser, then touches upon the imported grace of the European Skylark, a bird included to satisfy the interests of English readers.

As the book progresses, the accounts become increasingly observational. The text details the scavenger habits of the Turkey Vulture in the South and the hardy, ground-dwelling nature of Gambel’s Partridge in the desert regions of the West. Throughout these descriptions, the book maintains a consistent argument: that birds are not merely specimens to be hunted or collected, but living entities with distinct languages, instincts, and rights. The prose often pauses to reflect on the "sentiment of feeling" evoked by these animals, noting how the cries of water-fowl might stir a sense of wildness in the listener.

The volume concludes with a technical summary, providing a concise reference guide to the range, nesting habits, and egg characteristics of each bird discussed in the issue. This structural ending transforms the book from a series of literary sketches into a functional, reliable tool for the field student. By the time the final species is accounted for, the reader has traveled from the marshy thickets of Illinois to the rocky coasts of the Atlantic and the arid expanses of Arizona, gaining a grounded, empathetic understanding of the feathered residents that share the North American landscape.

How It Unfolds

The call to observe The text opens by welcoming readers to the second volume, highlighting the educational impact of the previous installment in schools. It establishes the importance of photography in bringing accurate, life-like portrayals of birds to a wider audience.

The language of birds The narrative explores the idea that bird sounds are not just random noises but a meaningful language. It details how distinct vocalizations serve as warnings, food-calls, and social signals within avian families.

Biographies of the wild Each bird is treated as an individual subject with specific habits and challenges. The text chronicles the specific nesting quirks of the Osprey and the camouflage techniques of the Sora Rail, grounding the reader in the reality of their daily struggles.

The value of the scavenger The focus shifts to the Turkey Vulture, arguing for the ecological necessity of birds often viewed with disdain. It positions the Vulture as a dignified, graceful presence in the sky, vital to the cleanliness of the southern landscape.

Final reference The book concludes with a condensed summary table. This allows the reader to quickly verify the geographical range and nesting requirements for every bird featured in the August issue.

The People

The book features a diverse range of figures who act as conduits for nature study. The Nature Study Publishing Company editors serve as the primary guides, organizing the information and advocating for the ethical treatment of wildlife. They are the voice of the book, constantly directing the reader’s attention away from the cruelty of bird-nest robbing and toward the joy of identification.

Mabel Osgood Wright is introduced as a key observer whose field research brings the Osprey to life; her vivid account of a storm-wrecked nest, complete with discarded items like blue mosquito netting and bits of fishing rod, highlights the bird’s industrious, if messy, nature. Olive Thorne Miller acts as an anecdotal voice, sharing a poignant, slightly humorous story about her attempt to care for a caged Skylark. Her frustration with the bird’s lack of instinct to return to its own home serves to contrast the wild, untamable spirit of the creature against the limitations of domestic captivity.

Ornithologists like Dr. Elliott Coues, John Burroughs, and Frank M. Chapman are frequently cited as the bedrock of the book’s authority. Their observations provide the weight that justifies the magazine’s presence in classrooms. Finally, the city-bred boy appears as a cautionary figure—a student who, despite being surrounded by nature in a public park, fails to identify local birds, mistaking them all for common English Sparrows. He represents the very ignorance the publishers hope to dispel, serving as a reminder of why the book’s mission of public knowledge is so critical.

In Its Own Voice

"Strange that so many persons think only of making a collection of them, robbing the nests with heartless indifference to the suffering of the parents, to say nothing of the invasion which they make of the undoubted rights the birds have from nature to protection and perpetuation."

This statement sets the ethical tone for the entire volume, rejecting the era's common practice of egg collecting.

"The Sora Rail flies in a straight line for a short distance with dangling legs, and suddenly drops into the water."

This sentence captures the specific, slightly awkward physical mannerisms that the text encourages readers to look for in the field.

"He sails with a steady, even motion, with wings just above the horizontal position, with their tips slightly raised, rises from the ground with a single bound, gives a few flaps of the wings, and then proceeds with its peculiar soaring flight."

This description of the Turkey Vulture’s movement demonstrates the book’s commitment to capturing the grace and dignity of even the most misunderstood birds.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the cultivation of a conscious, respectful relationship with the natural world. The book argues that ignorance is the primary enemy of conservation; if one cannot name a bird or understand its behavior, one is more likely to view it as a mere object for a collection. The text asks the reader to look beyond the surface—to see the "pretty" warbler, the "scavenger" vulture, and the "solitary" water-fowl not as commodities, but as complex participants in a shared environment. It posits that the act of observation is, in itself, an act of protection, and that scientific literacy is essential for the healthy perpetuation of bird life in a developing America.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow, deliberate pace of classic nature writing will find a quiet beauty in these pages. The book feels like a historical artifact, preserving the mid-summer woods and marshes of 1897 through the eyes of early, enthusiastic naturalists. It is particularly rewarding for those interested in the history of science communication, as it captures a moment when photography was just beginning to revolutionize how we document the natural world.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific tone. The anthropomorphism—attributing human-like motives and "conversations" to birds—is prevalent and reflects the sentimental style of 19th-century nature writing. Additionally, while the book is progressive in its rejection of nest-robbing, it still operates within a framework of its time, occasionally using language that assumes a specific, colonial-era understanding of "wild" spaces. Despite these period attitudes, the warmth of the writing and the sheer curiosity on display make it a compelling read. It stays with you not just for its facts, but for its gentle insistence that the world is full of wonders, provided one is willing to stop, listen, and watch for the small flashes of color and movement hidden in the grass.