the central valleys of the Cascades may be called _morphna_ and those
from the Palouse country _montana_, at pleasure.
Authorities.—_M. fasciata guttata_, Brewster, Bull. Nutt. Orn. Club,
VII. 1882, 227, 229. D¹. Ss¹. J.
Specimens.—P¹.
This, the connecting link between _montana_ and _morphna_, is the
characteristic Song Sparrow of eastern Washington, and abounds along
timbered water courses and in all cultivated districts. While closely
resembling the Rusty Song Sparrow of the West-side, it may be
distinguished from it by the sharper color pattern of its plumage; and
the points of divergence from _montana_ are maintained with substantial
uniformity, at least along the eastern slopes of the Cascades, and in
the northern tier of counties.
Altho subjected to considerable rigors in winter, this species is
partially resident, being largely confined during the cold season to the
shelter of tule beds, wild rose thickets, clematis bowers, and the like.
Nesting begins about the second week in April and continues with
undiminished ardor till July or August. Incubation requires twelve days,
and the young are ready to fly in as many more, so that a devoted pair
is able to raise three and sometimes four broods in a season.
At this rate we should be overrun with Song Sparrows if there were not
so many agencies to hold the species in check. A young Song Sparrow is
the choice morsel of everything that preys,—cats, skunks, weasels,
chipmunks, Sharp-shinned Hawks, Crows, Magpies, Black-headed Jays, and
garter snakes. How would this motley company fare were it not for the
annual crop of Song Sparrows? And the wonder of it is that the brave
heart holds out and sings its song of trust and love with the ruins of
three nests behind it and the harvest not yet past.
[Illustration: _Taken in Oregon._ _Photo by A. W. Anthony._
A PROFESSIONAL OOLOGIST.]
A little glimpse of Nature’s prodigality in this regard was afforded by
a pair which nested on my grounds in the Ahtanum Valley. On the 4th of
June I came upon a nest in a rose bush, containing four young just
hatched, and these almost immediately disappeared—a second, or possibly
a third, attempt for the season. On July 4th in an adjoining clump the
same pair was discovered with three well-fledged young, which, for aught
I know, reached days of self-dependence. On July 24th a nest was found
some twenty feet away containing four eggs, which I knew, both by the
familiar notes and by elimination, to belong to this pair; but the nest
was empty on the day following.
At the beginning of the season nests are frequently made upon the ground
under cover of old vegetation, or at the base of protecting bush clumps
in swamps. Occasional ground nests may also be found thruout the season.
One seen at Stehekin on August 3d was nestled loosely in a recumbent
potato vine. At other times any situation in bush or tree, up to twenty
feet, is acceptable, if only within convenient reach of water. A
favorite building site is amid the debris of last year’s flood water,
caught in the willow clumps of creek or lagoon. With high boots one may
wade the bed of a brushy creek near Yakima and count certainly on
finding a Merrill Song Sparrow’s nest every five or ten rods.
No. 57.
RUSTY SONG SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 581 e. Melospiza melodia morphna Oberholser.
Description.—_Adults_: Somewhat like _M. m. montana_ but coloration
much more rufescent, general color of upperparts rich rusty brown,
ashy gray of _M. m. montana_ represented by rusty olive and this
reduced or (in some plumages) almost wanting; black mesial streaks of
scapulars, etc., much reduced, indistinct or sometimes wanting;
underparts heavily and broadly streaked with chestnut usually without
black shaft lines; sides and flanks washed with olivaceous. “_Young_,
slightly rufescent bister brown above, the back streaked with
blackish, beneath dull whitish or very pale buffy grayish, the chest,
sides and flanks more or less tinged with buffy or pale fulvous and
streaked with sooty brownish” (Ridgway). Length about 6.40 (162.5);
wing 2.60 (66); tail 2.56 (65); bill .50 (12.7); tarsus .67 (17).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; rusty brown coloration; heavily
spotting of underparts distinctive save for the _Passerella iliaca_
group from which it is further distinguished by smaller size and
varied head markings.
Nesting.—_Nest_: As in preceding. _Eggs_: usually 4, averaging darker
in coloration and larger than in _M. m. merrilli_. Av. size, .87 × .63
(22.1 × 16). _Season_: second week in April to July; two or three
broods.
General Range.—“Breeding from extreme southern portion of Alaska
through British Columbia (including Vancouver Island) to western
Oregon (north of Rogue River Mountains); in winter, south to southern
California (Fort Tejon, etc.)” (Ridgway).
Range in Washington.—Common resident west of the Cascades; found
chiefly in vicinity of water.
Authorities.—? Audubon, Orn. Biog. V. 1839, 22. _M. rufina_, Baird,
Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, p. 481. (T). C&S. L¹. Rh. Kb. Ra. Kk.
B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. B. BN. E.
If one were to write a book about the blessings of common things, an
early chapter must needs be devoted to the Song Sparrow. How blessed a
thing it is that we do not all of us have to go to greenhouses for our
flowers, nor to foreign shores for birds. Why, there is more lavish
loveliness in a dandelion than there is in an imported orchid; and I
fancy we should tire of the Nightingale, if we had to exchange for him
our sweet poet of common day, the Song Sparrow.
Familiar he certainly is; for while he has none of the vulgar
obtrusiveness of _Passer domesticus_, nor confesses any love for mere
bricks and mortar, there is not a weedy back lot outside of the fire
limits which he has not gladdened with his presence, nor a disordered
wood-pile or brush-heap which he has not explored. Much lurking under
cover in time of rain has darkened his plumage beyond that of the
eastern bird, and close association with the fallen monarchs of the
forest has reddened it, until he himself looks like a rusty fragment of
a mouldering fir log.
It is as a songster, however, that we know this sparrow best.
Silver-tongue’s melody is like sunshine, bountiful and free and ever
grateful. Mounting some bush or upturned root, he greets his childish
listeners with “_Peace, peace, peace be unto you, my children._” And
that is his message to all the world, “Peace, and good-will.” Once we
sat stormbound at the mouth of our tent, and, mindful of the unused
cameras, grumbled at the eternal drizzle. Whereupon the local poet
flitted to a favorite perch on a stump hard by, and, throwing back his
head, sang, with sympathetic earnestness, “Cheer up! Cheer up! Count
your many mercies _now_.” Of course he did say exactly that, and the
childish emphasis he put upon the last word set us to laughing, my
partner and me, until there was no more thought of complaint.
[Illustration: SONG SPARROW ASLEEP.]
Even in winter the brave-hearted bird avails himself of the slightest
pretext—an hour of sunlight or a rise of temperature—to mount a bush and
rehearse his cheerful lay. The song is not continuous, but it is
frequently repeated thru periods of several minutes, and is followed by
little intervals of placid contemplation.
But no matter how gentle a bird’s disposition may be, there is ample
use, alack! for the note of warning and distrust. When, therefore, the
Song Sparrow’s nesting haunts are invaded, the bird emits a _chip_ or
_chirp_, still musical, indeed, but very anxious. In winter the resident
birds deny themselves even this characteristic cry; and, except for the
occasional outbursts of full song, they are limited to a high nasal
_tss_, which seems to serve the purpose of a flocking, or recognition,
call. Song Sparrows are not really gregarious birds; nor are they even
seen in close proximity save in mating time; but they like to assure
themselves, nevertheless, that a dozen of their fellows are within call
against a time of need.
Silver-tongue is a bird of the ground and contiguous levels. When
hiding, he does not seek the depths of the foliage in trees, but skulks
among the dead leaves on the ground, or even threads his way thru log
heaps. If driven from one covert, the bird dashes to another with an odd
jerking flight, working its tail like a pump-handle, as tho to assist
progress. Ordinarily the bird is not fearful, altho retiring in
disposition. Apart from the haunts of men the Song Sparrow of western
Washington is closely attached to the water; and is not to be looked for
save in damp woods, in swamps, in the vicinity of open water, whether of
lake or ocean, or along the brushy margins of streams. Indeed, its
habits are beginning to assume a slightly aquatic character. Not only
does it plash about carelessly in shallow water, but it sometimes seizes
and devours small minnows.
Save in favored localities, such as the margins of a tule swamp, nests
of the Rusty Song Sparrow are not obtrusively common. “Back East,” in a
season of all around nesting, about one-fifth of the nests found would
be those of the Song Sparrow. Not so on Puget Sound; for, altho the
birds are common, heavy cover is ten times more common, and I would
sooner undertake to find a dozen Warblers’ nests than as many Song
Sparrows’. Nesting begins about April 1st, at which time nests are
commonly built upon the ground or in a tussock of grass or tules. The
end of a log, overshadowed by growing ferns, is a favorite place later
in the season; while brush-heaps, bushes, fir saplings, trees, or
clambering vines, such as ivy and clematis, are not despised.
The eggs, Mr. Bowles finds, are almost invariably four in number, as in
a very large number of sets examined only one contained five eggs. They
are of a light greenish blue in ground color, and are spotted and
blotched heavily and irregularly with reddish browns, especially about
the larger end. Several broods are raised each season.
The Rusty Song Sparrow, because of its abundance in winter, affords the
impression of being strictly a resident bird in western Washington. Such
may be the case with a majority of the individuals, but there is still
evidence of a southward movement of the race, the place of local birds
being supplied in winter partly by British Columbia birds, which show a
heavier and more uniformly blended type of plumage, approaching that of
_M. c. rufina_.
No. 58.
SOOTY SONG SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 581 f. Melospiza melodia rufina (Bonap.).
Description.—Similar to _M. m. morphna_ but larger and with coloration
darker, more blended; general color of upperparts deep sooty brown or
bister, brightening on greater wing-coverts and tertials; back
obscurely streaked with darker; median crown-stripe obsolete or at
least indistinct; streaking of underparts dark brown. Length 6.50
(165) or over; wing 2.75 (70); tail 2.64 (67); bill .48 (12.3); tarsus
.92 (23.5).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; dark brown coloration; plumage of
upperparts blended, almost uniform. Requires careful distinction from
_Passerella_ but is smaller and variegation of head still traceable.
Nesting.—As in preceding. Does not breed in Washington.
General Range.—“Southern Alaska (islands and coast); north to Cross
Sound, Glacier Bay, Lynn Canal, etc.; south to north side of Dixon
Entrance, in winter to coast of British Columbia, Vancouver Island,
and northwestern Washington (Olympic Mountains)” (Ridgway).
Range in Washington.—Winter resident in northwestern portion of
State—not common.
Authorities.—_M. cinerea rufina_ (Brandt), Ridgway, Birds of North and
Middle America, Vol I. p. 374. E.
Specimens.—Prov. E.
These larger and darker birds reach our northern borders in winter only,
having retired thus far from their home in southern Alaska. Their
demeanor while with us is even more modest than that of the local
Silver-tongue; and when one is stalking the dank woods of Whatcom County
on the _qui vive_ for varieties, it requires a second glance to
distinguish this Song Sparrow, with its softly blended plumage, from a
winter Fox Sparrow.
No. 59.
LINCOLN’S SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 583. Melospiza lincolnii (Aud.).
Synonyms.—Lincoln’s Song Sparrow. Lincoln Finch.
Description.—_Adults_: Above, much like _M. melodia montana_, but
crown brighter rufous, and with more decided black markings: back
browner and more broadly and smartly streaked with black; the gray of
back sometimes with a bluish and sometimes with an olivaceous tinge;
below, throat and belly white, the former never quite immaculate, but
with small arrow-shaped black marks; sides of head and neck and
remaining underparts creamy buff, everywhere marked by elongated and
sharply defined black streaks; usually an abrupt dusky spot on center
of breast; bill blackish above, lighter below, feet brownish. Length
about 5.75 (146.1); av. of six specimens; wing 2.48 (63); tail 2.11
(53.6); bill .40 (10.2).
Recognition Marks.—Warbler size; bears general resemblance to Song
Sparrow, from which it is clearly distinguished by buffy chest-band,
and by narrow, sharp streaks of breast and sides.
Nesting.—_Nest_: much like that of Rusty Song Sparrow, of dried
grasses, etc., usually on ground, rarely in bushes. _Eggs_: 3 or 4,
greenish white spotted and blotched with chestnut and grayish. Av.
size, .80 × .58 (20.3 × 14.7). _Season_: June, July; two (?) broods.
General Range.—North America at large breeding chiefly north of the
United States (at least as far as the Yukon Valley) and in the higher
parts of the Rocky Mountains and the Cascade-Sierras; south in winter
to Panama.
Range in Washington.—Imperfectly made out—probably not rare spring and
fall migrant, at least west of the Cascades; found breeding in the
Rainier National Park.
Authorities.—[“Lincoln’s Finch,” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T. 1884 (1885),
22.] Bowles and Dawson, Auk, XXV. Oct. 1908, p. 483.
Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. B.
Modesty is a beautiful trait, and, I suppose, if we had always to choose
between the brazen arrogance of the English Sparrow and the shy
timorousness of this bird-afraid-of-his-shadow, we should feel obliged
to accept the latter. But why should a bird of such inconspicuous color
steal silently thru our forests and slink along our streams with bated
breath as if in mortal dread of the human eye? Are we then such
hobgloblins?
Thrice only have I seen this bird, and then in northern Ohio. On the
first occasion two of us followed a twinkling suspicion along a shadowy
woodland stream for upwards of a hundred yards. Finally we neared the
edge of the woods. There was light! exposure! recognition! With an
inward groan the flitting shape quitted the last brush-pile and rose
twenty feet to a tree-limb. Just an instant—but enough for our
purpose—and he had whisked over our heads, hot-wing upon the dusky back
trail. That same May day we came upon a little company of these Sparrows
halted by the forbidding aspect of Lake Erie, and dallying for the nonce
in the dense thickets which skirted a sluggish tributary. Here they
skulked like moles, and it was only by patient endeavor that we were
able to cut out a single bird and constrain it to intermittent exposure
at the edge of the stream. Here, at intervals, from the opposite bank,
we eagerly took note of its head-stripes, pale streaked breast, and very
demure airs, and listened to snatches of a sweet but very weak song,
with which the bird favored us in spite of our “persecution.” Is it any
wonder that the Lincoln Sparrow is so little known to fame?
While rated a regular summer resident of British America and Alaska,
Lincoln’s Sparrow has also been found breeding in the mountains of
eastern Oregon, California, Utah, and Colorado. It ought, therefore to
occur in Washington; but we have only to shrug our shoulders and say
with the lawyer, _non est inventus_. Indeed, the only positive record we
have of the bird’s occurrence at any season is that of a specimen taken
by A. Gordon Bowles, Jr., in Wright’s Park, Tacoma, May 22, 1906.
So much penned in good faith in April, 1908. In June of the same year
the good fairy of the bird-man piloted him to a spot where the Lincoln
Sparrows were so numerously and so thoroly at home, that he began to
wonder whether he might not have been dreaming after all for the past
quarter of a century. Ten or a dozen pairs were found occupying the
well-known swamp at Longmire’s Springs. On the 30th of June they were
much more in evidence than the Rusty Song Sparrows, which occupied the
same grassy fastnesses; and altho the females were not done waiting on
overgrown babies, the males were loudly urging their second suits.
[Illustration: _Taken at Longmire’s Springs._
LINCOLN’S SONG SPARROW.
ALLAN BROOKS AFTER PHOTO BY THE AUTHOR.]
The song of the Lincoln Sparrow is of a distinctly musical order, being
gushing, vivacious, and wren-like in quality, rather than lisping and
wooden, like so many of our sparrow songs. Indeed, the bird shows a much
stronger relationship in song to the Purple Finch than to its immediate
congeners, the Song Sparrows. The principal strain is gurgling, rolling,
and spontaneous, and the bird has ever the trick of adding two or three
inconsequential notes at the end of his ditty, quite in approved Purple
Finch fashion. “_Linkup, tinkup perly werly willie willie weeee_ (dim.)”
said one; “_Riggle, jiggle, eet eet eet eer oor_,” another. “_Che willy
willy willy che quill_”; “_Lee lee lee quilly willy willy_,” and other
such, came with full force and freshness at a hundred yards to the
listeners on the back porch at Longmire’s.
When studied in the swamp, the Lincoln Finches were found to be more
reluctant than Song Sparrows to expose themselves, but one pair, anxious
for their young, sat out against a clear sky again and again. The bird
was seen occasionally to erect its crown feathers in inquiry or
excitement, as do Chipping Sparrow, Nuttall Sparrow, _et al._ A Yellow
Warbler, stumbling into the manorial bush, was set upon furiously; but
she made off philosophically, knowing that her punishment was after the
accepted code. A Rusty Song Sparrow, however, was allowed to sit quietly
at a foot’s remove, not, apparently, because he was so much bigger, nor
even because nearer of kin, but rather because of common parental
anxiety. The contrast here was instructive; the Lincoln Sparrow being
not only smaller but more lightly colored and with a sharp-cut
streakiness of plumage. A comparison of many examples showed the
similarity of head pattern between the two Sparrows to be very
noticeable, while the buffy tinge of the Lincoln’s breast would appear
to be one of its least constant marks.
An alleged sub-species, Forbush’s Sparrow, _M. l. striata_, “Similar to
_M. lincolni_ but superciliary stripes and upperparts more strongly
olivaceous, and dark streaks especially on back and upper tail-coverts,
coarser, blacker, and more numerous,” has been ascribed to British
Columbia and western Washington, but the material at hand is meager and
inconclusive, and the proposed form has been passed upon adversely by
Ridgway.
No. 60.
KADIAK FOX SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 585 a (part). Passerella iliaca insularis Ridgway.
[_Description of Passerella iliaca unalaschensis_ (Shumagin Fox
Sparrow).—_Adults_: “Pileum and hindneck brownish gray or grayish
brown (nearly hair brown) passing into clear gray (mouse gray or smoke
gray) on superciliary region and sides of neck; auricular region
brownish gray, with narrow and indistinct shaft streaks of whitish;
back, scapulars, and rump plain hair brown; greater wing-coverts,
tertials and upper tail-coverts dull cinnamon brown, the rest of wings
intermediate between the last named color and color of back, except
edges of outermost primaries, which are pale hair brown; underparts
white, the foreneck, sides of throat (submalar region), chest, and
sides of breast marked with triangular spots of deep grayish brown or
drab; the flanks broadly streaked or striped with the same (both sides
and flanks mostly grayish brown laterally); malar region white flecked
with grayish brown; under tail-coverts grayish brown centrally,
broadly margined with white or buffy white; middle of throat and
breast usually with a few small spots of brown; maxilla dusky on
culmen, paler on tomia; mandible pale colored (yellowish in winter,
pinkish or liliaceous in summer); iris brown; legs and feet brown”
(Ridgway).]
Description.—“Similar to _P. i. unalaschensis_ but much browner and
more uniform in color above (back, etc., warm sepia brown instead of
grayish brown or brownish gray); spots on chest, etc., larger and
deeper brown; under tail coverts more strongly tipped with buff”
(Ridgway). Length of adult male (skins): 6.78 (172.5); wing 3.30
(83.8); tail 2.92 (74.1); bill .50 (12.7); tarsus 1.02 (25.9).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; uniform brownish coloration of back;
underparts heavily spotted with brown; _browner_ than _unalaschensis_
but duller than _townsendi_; larger than _annectens_; color of crown
unbroken as compared with Rusty Song Sparrow (_Melospiza melodia
morphna_), also bird larger.
General Range.—“Kadiak Island, Alaska, in summer; in winter south
along the coast slope to southern California.”
Range in Washington.—Winter resident and migrant west of Cascades.
Authorities.—_Passerella townsendii_ Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX.
1858. p. 489 part (Whitbeys Id., winter).—_Fide_ Ridgway.
A singular fatality (or, more strictly, _want_ of fatality) has
attended our efforts to secure a representative series of migrating
Fox Sparrows on Puget Sound. The birds have only revealed themselves
in city parks or otherwise in the absence of a gun. It is practically
certain that all the Alaskan forms described by Mr. Ridgway occur here
regularly in winter and during migrations but so unobtrusive are the
birds and so dense the cover afforded that we have been completely
baffled in our attempts, and find ourselves obliged, at the last
moment, to fall back upon Mr. Ridgway’s original descriptions in Birds
of North and Middle America, Vol. I. (p. 389 ff), and for the use of
these we desire again to express our grateful obligations.
For additional remarks on the Shumagin Fox Sparrow (_P. i.
unalaschensis_) and the Yakutat Fox Sparrow (_P. is annectens_) see
Hypothetical List in Volume II. of this work.
Field identification of the Fox Sparrows by means of binoculars may not
command the respect of precise scientists. But there he sat, placid, at
twenty feet, in a well-lighted grove on the Nisqually Flats, on the 10th
day of February, 1906. See; twenty divided by eight (the magnifying
power of the glasses) equals two and a half. At arm’s length I held him,
while I noted that the upperparts were dull hair-brown thruout, not
noticeably brightening on wings and tail but perhaps a shade darker on
the crown; underparts heavily but _clearly_ spotted with a warmer
brown—so, obviously and indisputably, neither a Sooty nor a Townsend.
Shumagin (_P. i. unalaschensis_) perhaps; but Ridgway[20] enters all
Puget Sound winter records as Kadiaks, and we must follow the gleam
until we are able to perfect the light of our own little lanterns by the
flash of a shot-gun.
No. 61.
TOWNSEND’S SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 585 a (part). Passerella iliaca townsendi (Audubon).
[_Description of P. i. annectens_ (Yakutat Fox Sparrow).—“Similar to
_P. i. insularis_ but smaller (the bill especially) and coloration
slightly browner” (Ridgw.).]
Description.—_Adults_: Similar to _P. i. annectens_ but coloration
darker and richer (inclining to chestnut brown); spots on chest, etc.,
larger. “Above deep vandyke brown, duller (more sooty) on pileum, more
reddish (inclining to burnt umber or dark chestnut brown) on upper
tail-coverts and tail; sides of head deep sooty brown, the lores
dotted, the auricular region finely streaked, with dull whitish;
general color of underparts white, but everywhere spotted or streaked
with deep chestnut brown or vandyke brown, the spots mostly of
triangular (deltoid and cuneate) form, very heavy and more or less
confluent on chest, smaller on throat and breast; sides and flanks
almost uniform deep brown, the latter tinged with buffy or pale tawny,
under tail-coverts deep olive or olive-brown broadly margined with
buffy or pale fulvous.” Length of adult male (skins): 6.67 (169.4);
wing 3.17 (80.5); tail 2.78 (70.6); bill .47 (11.9); tarsus 1.00
(25.4).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; warm brown (nearly uniform)
coloration of upperparts; heavy spotting of chest, etc. Absence of
distinctive head markings will distinguish bird from local Song
Sparrows, and robust form with conical beak from migrating Hermit
Thrushes.
Nesting.—As next. Does not breed in Washington.
General Range.—“Coast district of southern Alaska (islands and coast
of mainland from southern side of Cross Sound, Lynn Canal, etc., to
north side of Dixon Entrance); in winter, south to northern
California” (Ridgway).
Range in Washington.—Common migrant and (possibly) winter resident
west of Cascades.
Authorities.—? _Fringilla townsendi_ Audubon, Orn. Biog. V. 1839, 236,
pl. 424, fig. 7 (Columbia River). Townsend, Narrative (1839), p. 345.
_Passerella townsendii_, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, p.
489. C&S. Ra. Kk. B. E(H).
Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. B. C.
Time was when all the various Fox Sparrows of the Pacific Northwest were
lumped together under the name Townsend’s Sparrow. A more critical age,
however, under the leadership of Professor Ridgway, has resolved the
bewildering array of shifting browns into five forms, or subspecies,
assigning to each summer quarters according to the dullness or
brightness of its coat. The end is not yet, of course, but the
distinctions already made are sufficiently attenuated to cause the
public to yawn. Suffice it to say, that this is one of the plastic
species long resident on the Pacific Coast; and that the varying
conditions of rainfall and temperature, to which the birds have been
subjected thruout the greater portion of the year, have given rise to
five recognizable forms of the Townsend Sparrow.
Probably all forms are migratory, but the northernmost member of the
group, the Shumagin Fox Sparrow (_P. i. unalaschensis_) has not been
taken except in its summer home, the Alaska Peninsula, Unalaska, and the
Shumagins. The remaining four are known to retire in winter as far south
as California; but whether they preserve the 2, 3, 4, 5, arrangement in
winter, or whether the order is roughly reversed (as is true in the case
of certain other species), so that number 2 goes farthest south, while
number 5, less anxious as to the severities of winter, migrates, as it
were, half-heartedly, and becomes for a time the northernmost form, we
cannot tell. However this may be, Townsend’s Sparrow proper (_P. i.
townsendi_) appears to outnumber any of the remoter forms during at
least the spring migrations; and because it is our next neighbor on the
north, should be entitled to more consideration than plain heathen
birds.
At no time does the absorptive power of our matchless Puget Sound cover
appear to greater advantage than during the migration of the Fox
Sparrows. However they may choose to move at night, by day they frequent
the dense tangles of salal and salmon brush, or skulk about in cedar
swamps. To search for them is useless, but if you are much out-of-doors
the time will come, while you are footing it softly along some woodland
path, that a demure brown bird will hop out in front of you and look
unconcernedly for tid-bits before your very eyes. The bird is a little
larger than a Song Sparrow, but you will require a second glance to note
that the colors of the upperparts are smoothly blended, that the head
lacks the vague stripiness of _Melospiza_, and that the underparts are
spotted instead of streaked. Or, it may be, that you chance upon him as
he is busily scratching among the fallen alder leaves. Scratching is
hardly the word tho, for the bird leaps forward and executes an
extravagant double kick backward, landing invariably at the edge of the
cleared space. Here, without a moment’s delay, he proceeds to glean
busily, whereas you rather expected him to pause at the end of his
stunt, like the acrobat, awaiting the conventional burst of applause. If
you must needs pursue the path, he hops back into the thicket and you
have seen, perhaps, your last Fox Sparrow for this year, altho his
migrating kinsmen must number millions.
No. 62.
SOOTY FOX SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 585 a (part). Passerella iliaca fuliginosa Ridgway.
Description.—_Adults_: Upperparts, sides of head, neck, and lateral
underparts nearly uniform dark brown (sepia brown—“sooty” not
inappropriate), warming slightly upon exposed surfaces of wings and
upon rump and outer edges of rectrices; below white save for under
tail-coverts, which have clear buffy wash, everywhere save on middle
belly heavily marked with large, chiefly triangular, spots of the
color of back or darker—spotting heaviest on breast where nearly
confluent. Bill black above shading on sides into yellow of lower
mandible; feet pale ruddy brown or wine-color. Length (of a single
fresh specimen) 7.45 (191.7); wing (av.) 3.21 (81.5); tail 2.91 (77);
bill .48 (12.2); tarsus 1.02 (25.9).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow to Chewink size; uniform sooty brown
coloration of head and upperparts; heavily spotted below with sepia or
blackish; darker above and more heavily spotted below than any migrant
form of the _P. i. unalaschensis_ group.
Nesting.—_Nest_: a bulky structure with a broad, flat brim, of mosses,
grasses, twigs, woody fibers, weed-stalks, often heavily lined with
fine dry grass of contrasting color and with an inner mat of fur, hair
or feathers; placed at moderate heights in thickets or saplings;
measures externally 6 inches across by 3 deep, internally 2⅛ across by
1⅝ deep. _Eggs_: 4, greenish blue, spotted, or spotted and clouded,
with reddish brown. Av. size, .94 × .68 (23.8 × 17.3). _Season_:
May-July; two broods.
General Range.—Summer resident in coast region of British Columbia and
northwestern Washington; in winter south along the coast to San
Francisco.
Range in Washington.—Breeding on the San Juan Islands and upon the
northern and western shores of the Olympic Peninsula; not uncommon
migrant on Puget Sound.
Authorities.—(?) Baird, Rep. Pac., etc., 489 part; (?) Cooper and
Suckley Rep. Pac., etc., 204 part; (?) Sclater Cat. Am. Birds, 1862,
119 part (Simiahmoo [sic]); Ridgway, Auk, XVI. Jan. 1899, 36 (Neah
Bay). Kb. E.
Specimens.—Prov. BN. E.
The mystery of the Fox Sparrow clears a little as we move northward on
Puget Sound, and may even resolve itself one day as we spend a lazy July
in camp on one of the San Juan islands. We are puzzled, as the tent pegs
are being driven, by certain sprightly songs bursting out now here, now
there, from the copse. We labor under a sense of avian surveillance as
we gather fuel from the beach, but the songs are too joyous and limpid
to make precise connections with anything in previous experience. It is
not till the cool of the evening, when we seek the spring, back in the
depths of the thicket, that we come upon a fair birdmaiden slyly
regaling herself upon a luscious salmon-berry, flushed to the wine-red
of perfection, while three of her suitors peal invitations to separate
bowers in the neighboring tangles. She flees guiltily on detection, but
the secret is out; we know now where these shy wood nymphs keep
themselves in summer.
The male bird is sometimes emboldened by the moment of song to venture
into the tops of willows or alders, but even here he hugs the screen of
leaves and is ready in a trice to dive into the more familiar element of
bushes. Once under cover of the protecting salal, or among the crowding
ferns, the Fox Sparrows are excelled by none in their ability to get
about with a modicum of disturbance; and the longest journeys, such as
are made necessary in the time of clamoring young, appear to be made by
slipping and sliding thru the maze of intersecting stems. The song is
varied and vivacious; but, save for the opening notes, is neither very
strong nor very brilliant. The opening phrase, however, _Pewit, heu_,
comes as a tiny bugle call into which is distilled the essence of all
dank hollows, of all rustling leaves, of all murmuring tides, and of all
free-blowing breezes. It is the authentic voice of the little wild.
[Illustration: _From a Photograph Copyright, 1907, by W. L. Dawson._
CARROLL ISLET—SOUTH EXPOSURE.
WHERE THE FIRST NEST OF THE SOOTY FOX SPARROW WAS FOUND.]
On a July day a trio of Indian boys, Quillayutes, were showing the
bird-man a round of belated nesters, while he was looking for
opportunities to photograph eggs, and also recording Quillayutan bird
names in passing. A Rusty Song Sparrow’s nest held only weanlings,
mildly hideous, and the leader, a lad of ten, expressed regret that he
could not show me the nest of another kind of Song Sparrow. With excess
of Caucasian pride I assured him that there was only one species of Song
Sparrow to be found locally, but my learned statements drew forth only
puzzled and unconvicted glances. Some days later when I had taken a set
of Sooty Fox Sparrow’s eggs from a neighboring islet, the boys clamored
in triumph, “That’s it; those are the eggs of _Tahbahlilchteh_, the
other Song Sparrow we told you about.” The boys were near enough right;
the Fox Sparrow is for all the ordinary world like a Song Sparrow; and I
venture that not a dozen white boys in Washington ever saw the bird
itself, let alone distinguishing it by name.
[Illustration: _Taken on Carroll Islet._ _Photo by the Author._
NEST OF SOOTY FOX SPARROW IN FERN CLUMP.
THE NEST ITSELF IS ALMOST INVISIBLE BECAUSE BURIED IN MOSS AND FERN
LEAVES.]
The eggs referred to were found amid most romantic surroundings, on a
sea-girt islet a mile or two out from the Pacific shore. The island is
given over to sea-birds, and these nest upon its precipitous sides to
the number of thousands; but the center of the rock is crowned with a
grove of spruce trees, which overshadow a dense growth of salmon-berry
bushes. In a clump of the latter at a height of six feet was placed a
very bulky but unusually handsome nest, which held, in the really tiny
cup which occupies the upper center of the structure, three eggs of a
greenish blue color heavily spotted and marbled with warm browns. The
nest measures externally eight and ten inches in width, internally two;
in depth four inches outside and only one and a half inside. It is
composed chiefly of green mosses set in dead spruce twigs with a few
twisted weed stalks; while the lining is of a light-colored, fine, dead
grass, very loosely arranged, and a few breast-feathers of the
Glaucous-winged Gull. A nest full of young Peregrine Falcons were
conversing in screams with their doting parents in the spruce trees
overhead, and terrorizing the island thereby; but the Sooty Fox Sparrows
stepped forward modestly to claim ownership in the nest which “Science”
unfortunately required. The date was July 21, 1906, and the eggs were
nearly upon the point of hatching.
Thus, the north and west slopes of the Olympic Mountains, together with
the islands of lower Puget Sound, appear to mark the southern breeding
range of the coastal Fox Sparrows. This form has not been reported
breeding upon the mainland east of Puget Sound, but it is difficult to
see why it should not do so. It is rather the commonest form during the
spring and fall migrations, and there is no evidence as yet that it
tarries with us in winter.
No. 63.
SLATE-COLORED SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 585 c. Passerella iliaca schistacea (Baird).
Synonym.—Slate-colored Fox Sparrow.
Description.—_Adults_: Upperparts slaty gray tinged with olivaceous,
changing abruptly to russet brown on upper tail-coverts, and tail;
wings brown brightening, more rusty, on edges of greater coverts and
secondaries; some white fleckings below eye, and supraloral spot dull
whitish; underparts white shaded with color of back on sides; the
sides of throat, chest, and sides of breast heavily and distinctly
marked with triangular spots of sepia; lower breast (and sometimes
middle of throat) flecked, and sides and flanks striped, with the same
shade; under tail-coverts grayish brown centrally edged broadly with
buffy. _Young birds_ are tinged with brown above and are duller white
below with less distinct markings. Length of adult male 7.00-7.50
(177.8-190.5); wing 3.15 (80); tail 3.15 (80); bill .47 (12); tarsus
.92 (23.3).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow to Chewink size; slaty gray and brown
coloration above with heavy spotting on breast distinctive; _gray_
instead of brown on back as compared with the five members of the
_unalaschensis_ group.
Nesting.—_Nest_: a bulky affair of twigs, weed-stalks, grasses, etc.,
placed on ground or low in bushes of thicket. _Eggs_: 3-5, usually 4,
greenish brown sharply spotted or (rarely) blotched with chestnut. Av.
size .85 × .65 (21.6 × 16.5). _Season_: May-July; two broods.
General Range.—Rocky Mountain district of United States and British
Columbia west to and including the Cascade Mountains, the White
Mountains of southeastern California, and the mountains of
northeastern California; south in winter to New Mexico, Arizona, etc.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident in the timbered districts of the
East-side and in the Cascade Mountains (west to Mt. Rainier).
Authorities.—[“Slate-colored sparrow,” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T. 1884
(1885), 22]. Bendire, Life Hist. N. A. Birds, Vol. II., p. 435.
The residents of Cannon Hill, in Spokane, are to be congratulated, not
alone for their wealth, for Nature is not curious as to bank accounts,
but for the rare good taste which has been displayed in utilizing the
largess of Nature. Instead of going in with axe and shovel and
fire-brand, first to obliterate the distinctive features of Nature and
then rear mocking platitudes in mortar and stone upon her pale ashes,
they have accepted the glory of her grim lava bastions and the grace of
her unhewn pines; nor have they even despised the tangles of wild
shrubbery, those decent draperies without which both tree and cliff
would be overstark. To be sure the landscape artist with consummate
skill has said to the piny sentinel, “Stand here!” and to the copse,
“Sit there!” but he has not forgotten withal the primeval rights of the
feathered aborigines. As a result _the birds approve_. What higher meed
could mortal ask? Or where is there a better criterion of taste? Taken
all in all I doubt if there is a more delightful spot in Washington in
which to study bird life, certainly not within municipal bounds, than
Cannon Hill affords.
Here, for instance, is this wood sprite, the very genius of the
unravished wild; no one would think of looking for him in a city, yet of
an early morning as the bird-man was passing along Seventh Avenue, he
was arrested by the crisp and hearty notes of a Slate-colored Sparrow,
coming from a bush in an artistically unkempt corner of the adjoining
yard. In the half light, nothing in the pose and appearance of this bird
would have induced an ornithologist to bestow a second glance upon the
evident Song Sparrow, had it not been for the sweet and powerful
challenge which poured from his earnest beak. _Ooree, rickit,
loopiteer_, it said, with varied cadence and minor change, which gave
evidence of no mean ability. There is something so forthright and
winsome about the song of this modest bird, that the listener promptly
surrenders “at discretion,” and begins to ask eager questions of his
dainty captor.
A few yards further on three of these Sparrows were seen feeding on a
well-kept lawn, but ready to skurry at a breath to the shelter of
bush-clumps, thoughtfully provided. And all this in the first week in
June, the very height of nesting time! With this as an example, what
need to speak of Hammond Flycatchers, Mountain Chickadees, Catbirds,
Pine Siskins, Audubon Warblers, Shufeldt Juncoes, Cassin Finches, Pygmy
Nuthatches, American Crossbills, Cassin Vireos, Louisiana Tanagers,
Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Olive-sided Flycatchers, Evening Grosbeaks,
Violet-green Swallows, Black-chinned Hummingbirds, Bobwhites, and a host
of commoner sorts, all residents of the same demesne? “Unto him that
hath shall be given.” Unto these who have shown appreciation and
consideration, has been given the friendship of the birds, and they
deserve their good fortune.
On the 5th of June we visited a nest which had been located a few days
before in a little aspen grove beyond Garden Springs. The nest was
placed upon the ground at the base of a small tree, and it sat so high,
without pretense of concealment, that it was plainly visible with all
its contents two rods away.
The female was brooding, but upon our approach she slipped quietly off
and left her three callow young to the tender mercies of the bird-man
and his big glass eye, set at four feet, while she began searching for
food upon the ground a yard or two away.
[Illustration: _Taken in Rainier National Park._ _From a Photograph
Copyright, 1908, by W. L. Dawson._
WITH UNCLOUDED BROW.
A HAUNT OF THE SLATE-COLORED SPARROW.]
The male bird appeared, once, upon a bush some twenty feet away, making
no hostile demonstration but beaming rather a hearty confidence, as who
should say, “Well, I see you are getting along nicely at home; that’s
right, enjoy yourselves, and I’ll finish up this bit of hoeing before
supper.”
The mother bird, meanwhile, was uttering no complaint of the strange
presence, preferring instead to glean food industriously from under the
carpet of green leaves. Soon she returned, hopping up daintily. Standing
upon the elevated brim of her nest she carefully surveyed her brood
without proffer of food, as tho merely to assure herself of their
welfare. I “snapped” and she retreated, not hastily, as tho frightened,
but quietly as matter of reasonable prudence. Again and again during the
hour I had her under fire, she returned to her brood. Each time she
retired before the mild roar of the curtain shutter, never hastily or
nervously, but deliberately and demurely. Thrice she fed her brood,
thrusting her beak, which bore no external signs of food, deep down into
the upturned gullets of the three children. Thrice she attempted to
brood her babes, and very handsome and very motherly she looked, with
fluffed feathers and mildly inquisitive eye; but the necessary movement
following an exposure sent her away for a season.
When absent she neither moped nor scolded, but discreetly set about
scratching for food, always within a range of ten or fifteen feet of the
nest. At such times she would look up trustfully and unabashed. Upon the
return she never flew, and there was nothing to advise the waiting
camerist of her approach, save the rustle of leaves as she came hop,
hopping, until she stood upon the familiar brim.
The opportunities for picture-making were simply unlimited, save for the
weakness of the leaf-diluted light. Seldom have I been stirred to such
admiration as in the case of this gentle mother _Schistacea_. So demure,
so even-tempered, and so kindly a bird-person, with such a preserving
air of gentle breeding, I have not often seen. It was an hour to be long
remembered.
No. 64.
GREEN-TAILED TOWHEE.
A. O. U. No. 592.1. Oreospiza chlorura (Aud.).
Synonyms.—Green-tailed Finch. Blanding’s Finch.
Description.—_Adults_: Crown and occiput rich chestnut; forehead
blackish gray with whitish loral spot on each side; remaining
upperparts olive-gray tinged more or less with bright olive-green;
wings and tail with brighter greenish edgings; bend of wing,
axillaries and under coverts yellow; chin and throat white bordered by
dusky submaxillary stripe; sides of head and neck and remaining
underparts ashy gray, clearing to white on abdomen, tinged with buffy
or brownish on sides, flanks and crissum. Bill blackish above, paler
below; legs brown, toes darker; irides cinnamon. _Young birds_ are
brown above tinged with greenish and streaked with dusky but with
wings and tail much as in adult. Length of adult about 7.00 (177.8);
wing 3.15 (80); tail 3.30 (84); bill .50 (12.7); tarsus .94 (24).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; rufous crown, white throat; greenish
coloration of upperparts.
Nesting.—“_Nest_: in bush or on the ground. _Eggs_: .90 × .68 (22.8 ×
17.2); pale greenish or grayish white, freckled all over with bright
reddish brown, usually aggregating or wreathing at the larger end”
(Coues).
General Range.—“Mountain districts of western United States, from more
eastern Rocky Mountain ranges to coast range of California; north to
central Montana and Idaho and eastern Washington” (Ridgway). South in
winter to Mexico and Lower California.
Range in Washington.—Presumably summer resident in the Blue Mountains.
Authorities.—[“Green-tailed towhee,” Johnson, Rep. Gov. W. T. 1884
(1885), 22]. Ridgway, Birds of North and Middle America, Part I, 401.
T(?).
Not having ourselves encountered this species we are not able to comment
on Prof. Ridgway’s inclusion[21] of eastern Washington in the bird’s
breeding range. The Green-tailed Towhee appears to be essentially a
mountain-loving species, and if it occurs within our borders, will be
nearly confined to the Blue Mountains of the southeastern corner.
Mr. Trippe, writing from Idaho Springs, Colorado, says of this bird[22]:
“It arrives at Idaho early in May, and soon becomes abundant, remaining
till the close of September or early part of October. It is a sprightly,
active little bird with something wren-like in its movements and
appearance. It is equally at home among the loose stones and rocks of a
hill-side (where it hops about with all the agility of the Rock Wren),
and the densest thickets of brambles and willows in the valleys, amidst
which it loves to hide. It is rather shy, and prefers to keep at a good
distance from any suspicious object; and if a cat or dog approaches its
nest, makes a great scolding, like the Cat-bird, and calls all the
neighbors to its assistance; but if a person walks by, it steals away
very quietly and remains silent till the danger is passed. It has a
variety of notes which it is fond of uttering; one sounds like the mew
of a kitten, but thinner and more wiry; its song is very fine, quite
different from the Towhee’s and vastly superior to it. It builds its
nests in dense clumps of brambles, and raises two broods each season,
the first being hatched about the middle of June.”
No. 65.
SPURRED TOWHEE.
A. O. U. No. 588 a. Pipilo maculatus montanus Swarth.
Synonyms.—Chewink. “Catbird.”
Description.—_Adult male_: Head and neck all around, chest and
upperparts black, glossy anteriorly, duller on back; elongated white
spots on scapulars, on tips of middle and greater coverts and on outer
web of exposed tertials; edge of wing white and succeeding primaries
white on outer web; outermost pair of rectrices edged with white on
outer web; the three outermost pairs terminally blotched with white on
inner web and the fourth pair touched with same near tip; breast and
belly white; sides, flanks and crissum light cinnamon rufous,
bleaching on under tail-coverts to light tawny. Bill black; feet
brownish; iris red. _Adult female_: Similar to male but duller; black
of male replaced by slaty with an olivaceous cast. Length of adult
males: 7.50-8.50 (190.5-215.9); wing 3.17 (86); tail 3.93 (100); bill
.53 (13.5); tarsus 1.07 (27.7); hind claw .48 (12.2). Female a little
less.
Recognition Marks.—Standard of “Chewink” size; black, white and
cinnamon-rufous unmistakable; _heavily_ spotted with white on
scapulars and wing as compared with _P. m. oregonus_.
Nesting.—_Nest_: on the ground in thicket or at base of small sapling,
a bulky collection of bark-strips, pine needles, coarse dead grass,
etc., carefully lined with fine dry grass; measures 5 inches in width
and 3 in depth externally by 2½ wide and 1½ deep inside. _Eggs_: 3-5,
usually 4, grayish white or pinkish white as to ground, heavily and
uniformly dotted with light reddish brown. Av. size, .93 × .70 (23.6 ×
17.8). _Season_: last week in April, last week in May and first week
in June; two broods.
General Range.—Breeding in Upper Sonoran and Transition zones from the
Rocky Mountains to the Cascade-Sierras and in the Pacific coast
district of central California, and from Lower California and Northern
Mexico north into British Columbia; retiring from northern portion of
range in winter.
Range in Washington.—Common summer resident east of the Cascades,
found in foothills and mountain valleys up to 3,000 feet; casually
resident in winter.
Authorities.—_P. m. megalonyx_, Brewster, B. N. O. C. VII. Oct. 1892,
p. 227. D². Ss¹. Ss². J.
Specimens.—(U. of W.) P¹. Prov. C.
Altho of Mexican stock, our western Towhee does not differ greatly in
appearance from the familiar bird (_P. erythrophthalmus_) of the East;
and its habits so closely resemble that of the eastern bird as hardly to
require special description. The Spurred Towhee is a lover of green,
thickety hillsides and brushy draws, such cover, in short, as is lumped
together under the term “chaparral” further south. It is, therefore,
narrowly confined to the vicinity of streams in the more open country,
but it abounds along the foothills and follows up the deeper valleys of
the Cascades nearly to the divide.
[Illustration: SPURRED TOWHEE, MALE.]
Tow’hee, as a name, is a manifest corruption of _tow heé_, or _to-hwi′_,
an imitative word, after the bird’s most familiar note. Chewink′ is an
attempt along the same line, but _Marié_ is what the bird seems to me to
say. It is on this account alone that the bird is said to “mew” and is
called “Catbird.” The true Catbird, however, always says _Ma-á ry_, and
there is no cause for confusion. During excitement or alarm the Towhee’s
note is always shortened and sharpened to _Mrie_, with a flirt and jet,
and a flash of the eye. The song variously rendered as “_Chee-terr,
pilly, willy, willy_,” “_Chip, ah, tow-hee-ee_” and “_Yang, kit-er-er_,”
is delivered from the top of a bush or the low limb of a tree; and while
monotonous and very simple, it retains the pleasing quality of that of
the eastern bird. The singer will not stand for close inspection, for,
as Jones says of its cousin[23]: “He is a nervous fellow, emphasizing
his disturbance at your intrusion with a nervous _fluff, fluff_ of the
short wings, and a jerk and quick spreading of the long, rounded tail,
as if he hoped that the flash of white at its end would startle the
intruder away.”
[Illustration: _Taken in Oregon._ _Photo by A. W. Anthony._
NEST AND EGGS OF THE SPURRED TOWHEE.]
For a nest the Spurred Towhee scratches a hollow at the base of a bush
or clump in some dry situation, and lines this carefully, first with
leaves, bark-strips and plant stems, then with fine grasses or rootlets.
The eggs, commonly four in number, are deposited the last week in April
or first in May, and the female clings to her treasures until the
crushing footstep is very imminent. Once flushed, however, she keeps to
the background, scolding intermittently, and she will not return until
long after the excitement has died down.
Two broods are raised each season, and the first one, at least, must
early learn to shift for itself. The young birds are obscure,
dun-colored creatures, quite unlike their parents in appearance, and by
July they infest the buck-brush of the more open mountain sides in such
numbers and apparent variety as to start a dozen false hopes in the
ornithologist’s breast each day.
No. 66.
OREGON TOWHEE.
A. O. U. No. 588 b. Pipilo maculatus oregonus (Bell).
Synonyms.—“Catbird.” Chewink.
Description.—_Adult male_: Similar to _P. m. montanus_ but darker, the
white spotting of wing and blotches on tail much reduced; two outer
pairs of rectrices blotched and the third touched with white near tip;
cinnamon-rufous of sides, etc., richer and deeper. _Adult female_:
Like male but black veiled by deep reddish brown (clove brown)
skirtings of feathers. Length about 8.50 (216); wing 3.33 (84.6); tail
3.69 (93.7); bill .57 (14.5); tarsus 1.10 (27.9); hind claw .43
(10.9). Female a little smaller.
Recognition Marks.—“Chewink” size; black (with white spotting on
wings) above; white of breast; deep reddish brown of sides; mewing
cry.
Nesting.—Like that of preceding species. _Eggs_ a little larger: Av.
size, 1.04 × .74 (26.4 × 18.8).
General Range.—Pacific coast district from British Columbia (including
Vancouver Id.) south to central California; chiefly resident thruout
its range.
Range in Washington.—Of general occurrence, save at higher levels,
west of the Cascades; resident.
Authorities.—? _Fringilla arctica_, Aud. Orn. Biog. V. 1839, 49; pl.
394. _P. oregonus_, Bell, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, pp.
513, 514. (T). C&S. L². Rh. Kb. Ra. Kk. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. B. BN. E.
Perhaps no bird is better known by voice and less by plumage than this
shy recluse of the under forest. Swampy thickets, brush-piles,
log-heaps, and the edges of clearings are his special delight. Hence it
is that the newcomer, taking up quarters at the edge of town, hears this
mysterious, questioning voice, _me-a**error(yacute)? mea**error(yacute)
uh_? rising from the depths of the brush-lot opposite. He reports the
sound under the name of “Catbird,” and asks the bird-man’s opinion. Or,
if the newcomer has been persistent enough, he has a glowing account to
give of a handsome black bird with red on its sides, “like a Robin,” and
some white below. The bird would only show himself for a moment at a
time, and then he flitted and flirted restlessly before he dived into
cover again, so that the fine points of white spotting on the wing and
white tips on the outer tail feathers were lost out of account.
Of course it is the Oregon Towhee, and the half pleasant, half
complaining notes will insure him notice forever after. The bird is
strictly resident wherever found, and the unmistakable blackness of his
plumage is due rather to the age-long endurance of rain than to any
chance association with blackened logs and stumps, as might be supposed.
Towhee is prince of the underworld, not, of course, in the
Mephistophelian sense, but as the undoubted aristocrat among those
humble folk who skulk under dark ferns, thread marvelous mazes of
interlacing sticks and stalks, explore cavernous recesses of
moss-covered roots, and understand the foundations of things generally.
The handsome bird is a little impatient of the company of his own kind,
his faithful spouse always excepted; but he quite appreciates the mild
deference of Rusty Song Sparrows, the bustling sociability of Western
Winter Wrens, or even the intermittent homage of Seattle Wrens. In
winter the Fox Sparrows attach themselves to this humble itinerant
court, but they are a dozen times more bashful than their chief even.
Only at mating time does Towhee throw caution to the winds. Then he
mounts a sapling and drones away by the hour. The damps of ten thousand
winters have reduced his song to a pitiful wheeze, but he holds forth as
bravely as any of his kin, _whééééé whééééé_, and again, _whééééé_. In
winter the birds employ a peculiar hissing sound, _pssst_ or _bzzzt_,
not I believe, as a warning—rather as a keep-in-touch call. It was
rather heartening tho to hear the full song of Towhee on the 29th of
December at Blaine. Comparisons were unnecessary, and the homely trill
stood out like a benediction against the dripping silence.
In feeding, Towhees resort chiefly to the ground. They are not careful
to observe quiet, and one may follow their movements by the attendant
rustling of leaves. Scratching for food is a favorite employment, and
this they pursue not by the methodical clutch and scrape of the old hen,
but by a succession of spirited backward kicks executed by both feet at
once, and assisted by the wings. By this method, not only fallen seeds
are laid bare but lurking insects of many sorts, which the bird swiftly
devours.
No. 67.
LAZULI BUNTING.
A. O. U. No. 599. Passerina amœna (Say).
Synonyms.—Lazuli Finch.
Description.—_Adult male_: Head and neck all around cerulean blue;
this color carried over upperparts but pure only on rump, elsewhere
appearing as skirting of feathers; middle coverts broadly and greater
coverts narrowly tipped with white; wings and tail otherwise black;
some skirting of ochraceous on back, scapulars and tertials; lores
black; chest ochraceous sharply defined from blue above but shading
gradually into white of remaining underparts; sides and flanks with
outcropping bluish dusky. Bill black above, pale bluish below; feet
brownish dusky; iris brown. _Adult female_: Above grayish brown, the
color of male recalled by dull greenish blue of rump and upper
tail-coverts and by skirtings of wing- and tail-feathers; middle and
greater coverts tipped with light buffy; underparts washed with buffy,
most strongly on chest and sides, fading to whitish on belly and under
tail-coverts. _Young_ birds resemble the female but lack the
bluish-gray of rump and skirtings, and are usually more or less
streaked below on chest and sides. Length of adult male: 5.25-5.50
(133.3-139.7); wing 2.87 (73); tail 2.08 (53); bill .39 (9.9); tarsus
.67 (17). Female smaller.
Recognition Marks.—Warbler size; color pattern of male
distinctive,—female not so easy; in general distinguishable by a
softness and uniformity of the grayish brown.
Nesting.—_Nest_: a loosely constructed, bulky structure made chiefly
of dead grasses and strips of soft bark, with a heavy inner lining of
hair; placed about three feet up in fork of weed, bush or sapling;
measures, outside, 4¼ inches across by 3 in depth, inside, 2½ wide by
1½ deep. _Eggs_: 4, very pale blue unmarked or, rarely, dotted with
reddish brown. Av. size .76 × .56 (19.3 × 14.2). _Season_: first week
in June; one brood.
General Range.—Western United States from eastern border of Great
Plains to the Pacific (less common on Pacific slope) north to southern
British Columbia (chiefly east of the Cascades); south, in winter, to
Cape St. Lucas and the Valley of Mexico.
Range in Washington.—Common summer resident east of Cascade Mountains;
less common and of irregular distribution in the Puget Sound region;
breeds in Cascades up to 3,000 feet.
Migrations.—_Spring_: Yakima County May 5, 1906; Chelan May 21, 1896.
Authorities.—_? Fringilla amœna_, Audubon, Orn. Biog. V. 1839, 64,
230; plates 398, 424. _Cyanospiza amœna_ Baird, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R.
Surv. IX. 1858, p. 505. T. C&S. D¹. Ra. D². Ss¹. Ss². J. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P¹. Prov. B. E.
One can scarcely believe his eyes as this jewel flashes from a thicket,
crosses a space of common air, and disappears again all in a trice.
Either there has been some optical illusion, or Nature has grown
careless to fling her turquoises about in such fashion. We must
investigate. Upon arrival, somewhere about the 10th of May, and before
the return of his dun-colored mate, the male Lazuli is quite conscious
of his prominence in the landscape. He avoids notice and goes bounding
away if closely pressed; but love soon makes him bold, and he will
pursue the object of his affections into the very thicket where you
stand. Then, while the female lurks timidly within, he mounts a spray
and yields an outburst of music, piercing and earnest, if not too sweet.
We see that his blue is deep azure, or turquoise, rather than that of
the _lapis lazuli_ from which he is named. The red of his breast is
nearly that of the Robin’s, while the pure white of the remaining
underparts completes a patriotic study in red, white, and blue. The
female shows something of the color pattern of her mate, with the
important exception that dull brown supplants the royal blue of head and
back. After all, then, they are fitted for separate spheres: she to
skulk and hide and escape the hostile eye in the discharge of her
maternal duties; he to lose himself against the blue of heaven, as he
sings reassuringly from a tree-top, or sends down notes of warning upon
the approach of danger.
The song of the Lazuli Bunting is a rambling warble, not unlike that of
the Indigo Bunting (_C. cyanea_), but somewhat less energetic. Its brief
course rises and falls in short cadences and ends with a hasty jumble of
unfinished notes, as tho the singer were out of breath. Moreover, the
bird does not take his task very seriously, and he does not burden the
mid-day air with incessant song, as does his tireless cousin.
Somewhere in the shrubbery and tangle, whether of saplings,
berry-bushes, roses, ferns, or weeds, a rather bulky nest is built about
an upright fork, at a height of two or three feet from the ground. A
nest observed in Yakima County was begun on the 19th of June and
practically completed by the afternoon of the following day,—this altho
the first egg was not laid until the 26th. “Hemp,” milkweed fibers, and
dried grasses were used in construction, and there was an elaborate
lining of horse-hair (poor dears; what _will_ they do when the
automobile has fully supplanted the horse?).
[Illustration: _Taken near Spokane._ _Photo by Fred S. Merrill._
A LAZULI BUNTING’S NEST.]
_Amœna_ means pleasant, but the female amenity is anything else, when
her fancied rights of maternity are assailed. Her vocabulary is limited,
to be sure, to a single note, but her repeated _chip_ is expressive of
all words in _dis_ from distrust to distress and violent disapprobation.
No. 68.
BLACK-HEADED GROSBEAK.
[Illustration: _Taken in Oregon._ _Photo by Finley and Bohlman._
ANTICIPATION.]
A. O. U. No. 596. Zamelodia melanocephala (Swains).
Description.—_Adult male_: General coloration black and tawny varied
with white and yellow; head glossy black, narrowly on chin, and with
irregular invasion of tawny behind; back, scapulars, wings, and tail
chiefly black; middle of back with much admixture of tawny; scapulars
narrowly tipped with yellowish buffy or white, two conspicuous white
wing patches formed by tips of middle coverts and basal portion of
primaries; touches of white on tips of greater coverts and
secondaries, and on outer edge of primaries; touches of yellow (in
highest plumage) bordering white of wing-coverts, etc.; terminal third
of two outer pairs of rectrices white on inner webs; lining of wings
and breast centrally rich lemon yellow; remaining plumage tawny,
brightest on throat and chest, with admixture of black on sides of
neck; nearly as bright on rump, but veiled by lighter tips of
feathers; lightening posteriorly on remaining underparts; nearly white
on under tail-coverts; bill bluish gray, darker above; feet plumbeous.
_Adult female_: Like male, but tawny of underparts paler; upperparts
dark olivaceous brown with admixture of white and pale tawny; head
blackish with white or brownish median and superciliary stripes; wings
and tail fuscous, white markings restricted, those on tail reduced or
wanting; sides and flanks streaked with dusky. Length 7.75-8.50
(196.85-215.90); wing 3.9 (99); tail 3.15 (80); bill .71 (18); depth
of bill at base .59 (15); tarsus .95 (24).
Recognition Marks.—Chewink size; black head and variegated plumage of
male; large beak, with haunts, distinctive.
Nesting.—_Nest_: a careless but often bulky collection of twigs or
weed-stalks, lined, or not, with fine dead grasses; set loosely in
branches of bush or sapling, 6 to 20 feet up. _Eggs_: 4, greenish
blue, boldly spotted or blotched with reddish brown, dusky brown and
lavender, most heavily about larger end. Av. size 1.00 × .68 (25.4 ×
17.27). _Season_: East-side, May 20; West-side, May 25; one brood.
Authorities.—? “_Fringilla melanocephala_, Audubon, Orn. Biog. IV.
1838, 519; pl. 373 (Col. Riv.)”: Baird, 499. Cooper and Suckley, Rep.
Pac. R. R. Surv. XII. pt. II. 1860, 206. T(?). C&S. Rh. D¹. Ra. D².
Ss². J. B. E.
Specimens.—P. B. E.
Those who complain of our lack of song-birds should make the
acquaintance of this really skilled musician. He will not often be found
in the city parks, nor yet in the fir forests; but wherever there are
deciduous trees, not too dense, or tall thickets of willow and alder
beside some lake or sluggish stream, there will this minstrel hold
forth. The Grosbeak’s song is not unlike the longer lay of the Robin,
but it is richer and rounder as well as more subdued. There is about it
all a lingering languor of the Southland; and if the gentleman addressed
you, you would expect him to say “Sah,” with a soft cadence.
[Illustration: _Taken in Clallam County._ _Photo by the Author._
THE GROSBEAK’S CONCERT HALL.]
The bird’s carol has the rolling quality which serves to connect it with
that of the eastern Rose-breasted Grosbeak, but it is sweeter, more
varied, and shows, if anything, a still more strongly marked undertone
of liquid harmonics.
The male Grosbeak is, moreover, an indefatigable singer, choosing for
his purpose the topmost sprays of alder or cottonwood, and taking pains
to give all intruders a wide berth during the concert hours. His
attachment to a given locality becomes apparent only after he has been
pursued from tree to tree in a wide circuit which brings up at the
original station. And yet his shyness is not inspired by caution, for he
will sing upon the nest when he spells his wife at the hopeful task of
incubation.
The more matter-of-fact female has no word of greeting for the stranger
beyond a sharp _kimp_, a beak-clearing note, not unlike that of a
chicken with a crumb in its throat. This the male repeats also, with all
shades of emphasis when the home is beset, or, as a last resort, he
breaks into song at close quarters,—an ample price, surely, for the
fullest immunity.
It is the nest which confirms the southern origin of these gentle birds.
It is a flimsy affair of twigs, grass-stems, or weed-stalks carelessly
interlaced, and caught in the crotch of a sapling at a height of from
five to fifteen feet. The construction is so open, that the blue eggs
with their dark brown and lavender spottings may be counted from below.
The birds, you see, have been accustomed to a warmer climate, to a
tropical range, in fact, where warmth of bedding is no object.
If found upon the nest, the brooding bird cannot think ill of you; or,
if there is ground for misgiving, seeks to disarm hostility by a display
of gentle confidence. Instances are of record where the sitting bird has
been stroked with the hand, and a little discretion will usually insure
a lasting friendship.
[Illustration: _Taken in Oregon._ _Photo by Finley and Bohlman._
REALIZATION.]
This species enjoys a wide range in Washington, being found from
tide-water to the upper reaches of the deeper mountain valleys; but it
is nowhere common enough, let alone abundant.
_Tanagridæ_—The Tanagers
No. 69.
CRIMSON-HEADED TANAGER.
A. O. U. No. 607. Piranga ludoviciana (Wils.).
Synonyms.—Louisiana Tanager. Western Tanager.
Description.—_Adult male_: Back, wings, and tail black; middle coverts
and tips of greater coverts yellow; remaining plumage rich gamboge
yellow; clearest (lemon-yellow) on rump and upper tail-coverts,
darkest (live-yellow to wax-yellow) on breast, changing on head and
throat to bright carmine or poppy-red. The red increases both in
extent and intensity with age and is always brightest anteriorly. Bill
horn color; feet and legs bluish dusky; iris brown. _Adult female_:
General plumage dingy olive-yellow; darker, nearly olive, above;
lighter and clearer on under tail-coverts; wings and tail dusky with
olivaceous wing markings as in male but yellow paler. _Young males_
resemble the adult female and only gradually acquire the clearer
brighter plumage of maturity. Length about 7.00 (177.8); wing 3.75
(95); tail 2.80 (71); bill .59 (15); tarsus .80 (20.5).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; sedate ways; _pittic_ note. Black and
yellow with crimson head of male distinctive; dull olive of female not
likely to be confused when size is discriminated.
Nesting.—_Nest_: of rather rough, “tropical” construction, composed of
twigs, rootlets and moss, lined with horse- or cow-hair; measures
externally 7 inches across by 3 in depth, internally 2¾ wide by 1½
deep. _Eggs_: 3-5, usually 4, pale greenish blue to deep blue, dotted
and spotted sparingly with lavender and dark greenish slate, sometimes
in wreath about larger end; surface heavily glossed; long ovate in
shape. Av. size .92 × .64 (23.3 × 16.2). _Season_: June; one brood.
General Range.—Western United States from eastern base of Rocky
Mountains to Pacific Coast, northward to British Columbia and
Athabasca; south in winter to Mexico and Guatemala; straggling
eastward during migrations—has been several times taken in New
England.
Range in Washington.—Common summer resident in timbered sections,
migrant in open country of East-side.
Migrations.—_Spring_: East-side: Yakima, May 4, 1906, May 9, 1900;
Chelan, May 19, 1896, May 20, 1905; West-side: Tacoma, April 27, 1906.
Authorities.—_Piranga ludoviciana_ Bonap., Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R.
Surv. IX. 1858, p. 304. T. C&S. Rh. D¹. Ra. D². Ss¹. Ss². Kk. J. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P¹. Prov. B. E.
This handsome Tanager is one of the most characteristic birds of the
more open forest areas of Washington, whether east or west. It is one of
the three species discovered by the intrepid explorers, Lewis and Clark;
and since the Lewis Woodpecker bears the name of one, and the Clark
Nutcracker of the other, there was nothing for it but to call the
Tanager after the region “Louisiana,” whose further reaches they were
then exploring. But we are no longer a part of Louisiana, and we prefer
a color-name for one of our few brilliant birds of plumage.
In the hand, the bright yellow of the male Tanager, shading into the
bright crimson upon the head, would seem to assure a very conspicuous
bird, but afield it is not so. Seen against the changing green of
maples, pines, or fir trees, these brilliant colors are lost to any but
the most attentive eye. A resplendent male does not hesitate to stand
quietly upon the end of a branch and survey you until his curiosity is
fully satisfied. This quiet attitude of genteel curiosity seems to be
characteristic of all Tanagers. Apart from its psychological bearings,
sedateness would seem to play an effective part in modifying the
attractions of bright plumage.
The male birds precede the dull-colored females by several days, and at
such times only may be found in companies. One windy afternoon in May,
the 20th it was, while the Columbia River steamer doddered with its
freight, I took a turn ashore and explored a tiny oasis of willows which
lined a neighboring brook. I soon caught the _pitic_ or _pititic_ of
newly-arrived Tanagers. Judge of my delight upon beholding, not one, but
eight of these beauties, all old males, as they filed out of a willow
clump, where they had evidently taken refuge for the day. A week or so
later I saw Tanagers at home in the meager willow fringes of Crab Creek,
in Lincoln County; and while we were in camp at Brook Lake in Douglas
County, one came out thru the sage, hopping and flitting from bush to
bush, to bring me friendly greetings. It was like meeting a king in a
millet field.
The song of the Louisiana Tanager—pardon the lapse; habit is stronger
than reason—the song of the Crimson-headed Tanager is an étude in R. “It
is remotely comparable to that of the Robin, but it is more stereotyped
in form, briefer, and tittered at intervals rather than continuously
sustained. The notes are sharp-edged and rich in r’s, while the movement
of the whole, tho deliberate, is varied, and the tone cheerful”[24]. I
can detect no constant difference between the song of the Crimson-headed
Tanager and that of the Scarlet Tanager (_P. erythromelas_), save that
that of the former is oftener prefaced with the call note, thus:
_Piteric whew, we soor a-ary e-erie witooer_. This song, however, is
less frequently heard than that of the Scarlet Tanager, East. Its
perfect rendition, moreover, argues the near presence of a demure little
lady in olive, a person who looks like nobody in particular to our
undiscriminating gaze, but who exerts a strange fascination over our
brilliant squire. Young males of the second summer sing hopefully, but
they are less often successful in love than their ruddier rivals.
It behooves the Tanager maiden to be exacting in her choice, for all the
help she will get out of him at best will be sympathy and song. When it
comes to real work, like nest building, she must do it. He will
graciously advise as to the situation, some horizontal branch of fir or
pine, from six to fifty feet high, and from three to twenty feet out. He
will even accompany her on her laborious trips after nesting material,
cooing amiable nothings, and oozing approval at every joint,—but help
her—_nevaire_!
The nest is quite a substantial affair tho rather roughly put together,
of fir twigs, rootlets, and moss, with a more or less heavy lining of
horse- or cow-hair, and other soft substances. The four eggs of greenish
blue, dotted and spotted with lavender and dark greenish slate, appear
especially handsome from above, when viewed against the dark brown nest.
But, as everybody knows, the red fir (_Pseudotsuga mucronata_) is a tree
of moods and tenses. You may dangle with impunity from the very tips of
the branches of some fir trees, while a step from the trunk is fatal in
others of the same general appearance. The Tanagers are quite as apt to
patronize the brittle kind.
_Mniotiltidæ_—The Wood Warblers
No. 70.
ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER.
A. O. U. No. 646. Helminthophila celata (Say).
Description.—_Adult male_: Above ashy olive-green, clearing and
brighter on rump; crown largely ochraceous but color partly veiled by
olive tips of feathers; wings and tail fuscous with some olive edging;
below greenish-yellow, dingy, or vaguely streaked with blue on breast
and sides. _Adult female_: Similar to male but duller, with ochraceous
crown-patch restricted or wanting. _Immature_: Without ochraceous
crown; more ashy above; duller below save that abdomen is white;
eyelids often whitish. Length about 5.00 (127); wing 2.40 (61); tail
1.95 (49.5); bill .42 (10.7); tarsus .70 (17.8).
Recognition Marks.—Small warbler size; ochraceous (“orange”)
crown-patch distinctive from all except _H. c. lutescens_, which is
the common bird; duller. See next (sub)species.
Nesting.—Not known to nest in Washington but may do so. As next.
General Range.—Summer resident in western British America and Alaska
(save in Pacific coast district), south thru Rocky Mountain district
to New Mexico; migrating across Central States and casually(?) New
England, Middle Atlantic States, Pacific States, etc., to Mexico.
Range in Washington.—Probably common migrant but passing
undistinguished among more abundant _lutescens_.
Authorities.—Bowles and Dawson, Auk, Vol. XXV., Oct. 1908, p. 483.
Specimens.—Bowles. Prov. P.
Most Alaskan species, even of those which retire in winter to South
Carolina, Florida, and the Antilles, may be expected to drift thru our
borders sooner or later. Typical _H. celata_ was first caught in the act
by Mr. Bowles in May, 1907, but we have no means of knowing that the
northern form is not a frequent trespasser. Kermode gives it as a common
summer resident east and west of the Cascades in British Columbia, and
it is not impossible that our northern Cascade records should be
referred to this type.
No. 71.
LUTESCENT WARBLER.
A. O. U. No. 646a. Helminthophila celata lutescens Ridgway.
Description.—_Adults_:—Similar to _H. celata_ but brighter. Above
bright olive-green; below definitely yellow—olive-yellow, gamboge, or
even canary (on under tail-coverts). _Immature_: Above plain
olive-green (not ashy, as in _H. celata_); below buffy yellow tinged
with olive on breast and sides. Measurements as in preceding.
Recognition Marks.—Small warbler size; perhaps the most abundant of
the eight or nine “yellow” warblers of the State; ochraceous
crown-patch, of course, distinctive; not so bright as the Pileolated
Warblers (_W. p. pileolata_ and _W. p. chryseola_).
Nesting.—_Nest_: on the ground sunk in bed of moss, under protection
of bush or weed, or in shelving bank, of coiled dry grasses, lined
with finer; 1¾ inches wide by 1 inch deep inside. _Eggs_: 4, rarely 5,
dull white marked with dots and a few small blotches of yellowish
brown and lavender; in shape long to short ovate, rarely oval. Av.
size .67 × .51 (17 × 12.9). _Season_: May 1 and June 1; two broods.
General Range.—Summer resident in Pacific Coast district from Cook
Inlet to southern California, east to western ranges of Rocky Mountain
System, where intergrading with _H. celata_; south in winter to
western Mexico and Guatemala.
Range in Washington.—Of general occurrence thruout the lower levels;
abundant in Puget Sound region.
Migrations.—_Spring_: April 3, 6, 7 (Seattle). April 24 (Chelan).
March 28, 1908 (Seattle).
Authorities.—(?) Townsend, Journ. Ac. Nat. Sci. Phila., VIII., 1839,
153 part (Columbia River). Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv.,
XII., pt. II., 1860, 178. (T.) C&S. L¹, Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². Kk. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. Prov. B. BN. E.
Yellow appears to be the prevailing color among our Washington Wood
Warblers; and even of those which are not frankly all over yellow, as
this one is, there are only two which do not boast a conspicuous area of
this fashionable shade. And of all yellows, yellow-green, as represented
by the back of this bird, is the commonest,—so common, indeed, as to
merit the facetious epithet “museum color.” It is all very well in the
case of the male, for he comes back (to Seattle) during the first week
in April, before the leaves are fully out; and he is so full of
confidence at this season that he poses quite demurely among the
swelling buds of alder, maple, and willow. He is proud of his full
crown-patch of pale orange, contrasting as it does with the dull
yellowish green of the upperparts and the bright greenish yellow of the
underparts,—and he lets you get a good view of it at twenty yards with
the glasses. Besides that, he must stop now and then to vent his
feelings in song. But the case of the female is almost hopeless—for the
novice.
[Illustration: _Taken in Oregon._ _Photo by Bohlman and Finley._
A HUNGRY CHICK.
LUTESCENT WARBLER, FEMALE AND YOUNG.]
The song of the Lutescent Warbler appears to have been very largely
overlooked, but it was not the bird’s fault. While waiting for his tardy
mate, he has rehearsed diligently from the taller bushes of the thicket,
or else from some higher vantage point of maple, dogwood, or fir tree.
The burden is intended for fairy ears, but he that hath ears to hear let
him hear a curious vowel scale, an inspirated rattle or trill, which
descends and ends in a simple warble of several notes. The trill, brief
as it is, has three qualities of change which make it quite unique. At
the opening the notes are full and slow, but in the instant necessary to
the entire recital the pace accelerates, the pitch rises slightly, and
the component notes decrease in volume, or size. At the climax the
tension breaks unexpectedly in the gentle, musical cadence of the
concluding phrases, whose notes much resemble certain of the Yellow
Warbler’s. The opening trill carries to a considerable distance, but the
sweetness of the closing warble is lost to any but near listeners. The
whole may be rendered graphically somewhat as follows;
_O-o-ā-ā-i-i-é-é-é-é-é-é wichy, wichy, wichy_.
In the brush and under alarm these birds utter a brusque, metallic
scolding note, which is perfectly distinctive locally, altho it much
resembles that of the _Oporornis_ group East. By this mark alone may the
mere greenish female be certainly discerned.
Lutescent Warblers abound thruout western Washington, and easterly, when
the Cascades are well passed, as upon the Pend d’Oreille. Jungle of any
kind suits them, whether it be a thicket of young firs at Tacoma, an
overgrown burn at Snoqualmie, a willow swamp in Yakima County, or a
salmon-berry tangle on Destruction Island. Nests are of dead grasses
well knitted and sunk flush with the ground, or below it, in some moss
bed, at the base of a bush, or on some sloping hillside. Rarely the
structure may be taken up into a bush. The female is a close sitter, but
once flushed shows implacable resentment. She summons her mate to assist
in the gentle art of exorcism, or else turns the tables and deserts
outright. The latter, you understand, is quite the subtlest and most
baffling form of revenge which a bird may compass in the case of an
oölogist anxious to identify his find.
[Illustration: _Taken near Tacoma._ _Photo by J. H. Bowles._
NEST AND EGGS OF LUTESCENT WARBLER.]
No. 72.
CALAVERAS WARBLER.
A. O. U. No. 645a. Helminthophila rubricapilla gutturalis (Ridgw.).
Description.—_Adult male_: Head above and on sides bluish ash with a
partially concealed crown-patch of bright chestnut; a whitish
eye-ring; remaining upperparts bright olive-green becoming yellowish
green on rump and upper tail-coverts; underparts including crissum,
bright yellow, but whitening on belly; bill small, short, acute,
blackish above, brownish below; feet brown. _Adult female_: Like male
but somewhat duller below; ashy of head less pure, glossed with
olivaceous and not so abruptly contrasting with yellow of throat;
chestnut crown-patch less conspicuous or wanting. _Immature_:
Olive-green of upperparts duller; head and neck grayish brown instead
of ashy; below dull olive-yellow, clearing on belly and crissum.
Length of male (skins) 4.05-4.75 (103-121); wing 2.35 (60); tail 1.75
(45); bill .38 (9.6); tarsus .63 (16). Female smaller.
Recognition Marks.—Smaller; bright yellow of throat (and underparts),
contrasting with ashy of head, distinctive.
Nesting.—_Nest_: usually sunk well into ground or moss at base of
bush-clump or rank herbage, well made of fine bark-strips and grasses,
lined with finer grasses, horse-hair and, occasionally, feathers;
outside, 3 in. wide by 2 in. deep; inside 1¾ wide by 1¼ deep. _Eggs_:
3-5, usually 4, dull white as to ground-color, but showing two
distinct types of markings: one heavily sprinkled with fine dots of
reddish brown, nearly uniform in distribution, or gathered more
thickly about larger end; the other sparingly dotted, and with large
blotches or “flowers” of the same pigment. Av. size .64 × .49 (16.3 ×
12.5). _Season_: May 20-July 20, according to altitude; two broods.
Chelan Co. July 22, 1900, 3 fresh eggs.
General Range.—The Pacific States and British Columbia south to
Calaveras County, California, and east (at least) to northern Idaho;
found chiefly in the higher mountains; in migrations to Lower
California and western Mexico.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident on brushy slopes and in timbered
valleys of the higher ranges thruout the State, and irregularly at
lower levels, at least on Puget Sound (Tacoma).
Migrations.—_Spring_: Wallula, April 23, 1905; Benton County, May 4,
1907; Chelan, May 21, 1896; Tacoma, April 24, 1897. _Fall_: Last week
in August (Blaine).
Authorities.—Dawson, Auk, XVIII. Oct. 1901, 463. (D¹). J. B.
Specimens.—B.
There is something distinct and well-bred about this demure exquisite,
and the day which discovers one searching the willow tops with genteel
aloofness is sure to be underscored in the note-book. The marks of the
spring male are as unmistakable as they are regal: a bright yellow
breast and throat contrasting with the ashy of cheeks and head, the
latter shade relieved by a white eye-ring, and surmounted by a chestnut
crown-patch. If you stumble upon a company of them at play among the
thorn bushes, you are seized, as like as not, with a sense of low birth,
and feel like retiring in confusion lest you offend royalty.
These gentle despots are bound for the mountains; and since their realms
are not prepared for them till June, they have ample leisure to discuss
the fare of wayside stations. They enter the State from the South during
the last week in April—Wallula, April 23d, is my earliest record; but
May 21st records an unanxious company at the foot of Lake Chelan. As the
season advances they take up quarters on brushy mountain sides, or in
the deciduous skirts of fierce mountain torrents. Here while the female
skurries about thru the buck-brush or vine-maple thickets in search of a
suitable nesting site, the male mounts a fir tree and occupies himself
with song.
If you are spying on this sacred function, the bird first peers down at
you uneasily, then throws his head back and sings with great animation:
_Choopy, choopy, choopy churr_ (tr). The trill is composed of a dozen or
so of large notes which the ear can easily distinguish, but which
because of the vivacious utterance one cannot quite count. The pitch of
the _finale_ is sustained, but there is a slight decrease in volume. If
forced to descend, the singer will join his mate in sharp _chips_ of
protest, somewhat similar to those of the Audubon Warbler, altho not
quite so clear-cut or inflexible.
While the Calaveras Warbler is a bird of the mountains and lives at any
height where suitable cover is afforded, it is a curious fact that it
sometimes prefers the timbered lowlands of Puget Sound, and may be found
in some seasons in considerable numbers about the southern prairies. Mr.
Bowles has found them commonly in scrub-oak patches which border the fir
groves and timbered lakes; and yet during some years they have been
unaccountably absent from the entire region.
Near Tacoma this Warbler places its nest at the base of a young oak or
fir tree, where the spreading branches have protected the grass and
gathered weeds. The nest is sunk well into the ground or moss, and is so
well concealed as to defy discovery unless the bird is flushed. When
frightened from the nest the female instantly disappears, and returns
only after some considerable interval. Then she approaches with the
greatest caution, ready to dart away again upon the first sign of
movement on the part of the intruder. The male, if he happens to be
about at all, neither joins the defense nor consoles his mate in
misfortune, but sets upon her furiously and drives her from bush to
bush, as tho she had wilfully deserted their treasures.
At sea-level two sets of eggs are laid in a season, one fresh about May
18th, the other about June 25th. In the mountains, however, the second
nesting, if indulged in at all, is thrown very late. I took a set of
three fresh eggs from a carelessly constructed nest placed in the top of
an elk-weed (_Echinopanax horridum_) at a height of three feet, on the
22d day of July, 1900.
No. 73.
YELLOW WARBLER.
A. O. U. No. 652. Dendroica æstiva (Gmel.).
Synonyms.—Summer Yellow-bird. Summer Warbler. Wild Canary.
Description.—_Adult male_: Forehead and fore-crown bright yellow with
an orange tinge; back bright olive-green; rump greenish yellow; wings
and tail blackish with greenish yellow edgings, the wing quills edged
on both webs, the tail-feathers—except middle pair—almost entirely
yellow on inner webs; sides of head and entire underparts golden
yellow, the breast and sides heavily streaked with chestnut; bill
black; feet pale. _Adult female_: Like male but duller; olive-green on
back, not brighter on forehead; paler yellow below, obscurely or not
at all streaked with chestnut. _Young males_ resemble the adult
female. _Young female_ still duller; dusky yellow below. Length
4.75-5.25 (120.6-133.3); wing 2.51 (63.8); tail 1.68 (42.7); bill .40
(10.2); tarsus .73 (18.61).
Recognition Marks.—Medium size; golden yellow coloration; chestnut
streaks on breast of male; after the Lutescent the commonest of the
resident Warblers; chiefly confined to the banks of streams and ponds.
Nesting.—_Nest_: a compact cup of woven “hemp” and fine grasses, lined
heavily with plant-down, grasses, and, occasionally, horse-hair,
fastened to upright branch in rose-thickets and the like. _Eggs_: 4 or
5, white, bluish-, creamy-, or grayish-white, speckled and marked with
largish spots of reddish brown, burnt umber, etc., often wreathed
about the larger end. Av. size, .70 × .50 (17.8 × 12.7). _Season_: May
20-June 20; one brood.
General Range.—North America at large, except southwestern part,
giving place to _D. æ. rubiginosa_ in extreme northwest. South in
winter to Central America and northern South America. Breeds nearly
thruout its North American range.
Range in Washington.—Summer resident in deciduous timber, and
shrubbery lining streams, thruout the State from sea-level to 4,000
feet.
Migrations.—_Spring_: Tacoma, April 24-30; Yakima, April 30, 1900;
Chelan, May 21, 1896. _Fall_: First week in September.
Authorities.—Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv., XII., pt. II.,
1860, p. 181. T. C&S. L¹. Rh. D¹. Ra. D². Ss¹. Ss². Kk. J. B. E.
Specimens.—B. BN. E. P¹.
The Summer Warbler’s gold is about as common as that of the dandelion,
but its trim little form has not achieved any such distinctness in the
public mind. Most people, if they take notice at all of anything so
tiny, dub the birds “Wild Canaries,” and are done. The name as applied
to the Goldfinch may be barely tolerated, but in the case of the Warbler
it is quite inappropriate, since the bird has nothing in common with the
Canary except littleness and yellowness. Its bill is longer and slimmer,
for it feeds exclusively on insects instead of seeds; and its pure
yellow and olive-green plumage knows no admixture, save for the tasty
but inconspicuous chestnut stripes on the breast of the adult male.
These stripes are lacking in males of the second year, whence Audubon
was once led to elaborate a supposed new species, which he called the
“Children’s Warbler.” The name is not ill-fitting, even tho we know that
it applies only to the Warbler’s children.
The Yellow Warbler is peculiarly a bird of sunshine, and is to be found
chiefly in open situations. It swarms thru the orchards and gardens,
frequents the wayside thickets, and in town takes possession of the
shrubbery in lawn or park. It is abundant in swampy places, and is
invariably present in season along the banks of streams which are lined
with willows, alders, and wild rose bushes.
[Illustration: _Taken in Oregon._ _Photo by Finley and Bohlman._
A CONTENTED BABY.]
The song is sunny, too, and while not elaborate, makes substantial
contribution to the good cheer of spring. Heard in the boskage it sounds
absurdly as if some wag were shaking an attic salt-cellar on a great
green salad. The notes are almost piercing, and sound better perhaps
from across the river than they do in the same tree. Individual
variation in song is considerable, but the high pitch and vigor of
delivery are distinctive. Certain common types may be syllabized as
follows: _Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweetie_; _tsee, tsee, tsit-a-wee, tsee_;
_wee-chee, chee, chee wee-i-u_; _tsu, tsu, tsu, tsu, tseéew_. From its
arrival sometime during the last week in April, until near the close of
its second nesting, late in July, the bird may be found singing thruout
the sunlit hours.
The date of this bird’s annual advent in Washington is far less nearly
fixed than in the East. April 19th is my earliest date, recorded in
Yakima County, but Dr. Cooper once saw large numbers (possibly _D. a.
rubiginosa_) “at the Straits of De Fuca,” on April 8. On the west side
of the mountains this Warbler may not often nest more than once in a
season, but on the East-side it usually raises two broods.
The nest of the Yellow Warbler is quite common, especially easterly,
where its cover is more restricted; and no special pains is taken at
concealment. Nests may be placed at any height in orchard trees, alders,
willows, or even fir saplings; but, without doubt, the most acceptable
site is that afforded by dense thickets of the wild rose (_Rosa
pisocarpa_) wherever found.
[Illustration: _Taken near Tacoma._ _Photo by the Author._
YELLOW WARBLER’S NEST.]
The cradle of this bird is of exquisite fabrication. The tough inner
bark of certain weeds—called indiscriminately “hemp”—together with
grasses and other fibrous materials in various proportions, is woven
into a compact cup around, or settled into, some stout horizontal or
ascending fork of bush or tree. As a result the bushes are full of
Warblers’ nests, two or more seasons old. A fleecy lining, or mat, of
plant-down is a more or less conspicuous feature of every nest. Upon
this as a background a scanty horse-hair lining may exhibit every one of
its strands; or again, as in the case of a nest taken on the Chelan
River, the eggs themselves may be thrown into high relief by a coiled
black mattress.
The male Yellow is very domestic in his tastes, insomuch that, quite
unlike other Warblers, he will often venture to sing from the very bush
in which his mate is sitting. Unless well accustomed to the presence of
humans, the female will not sit patiently under the threat of close
approach. She slips off quickly and her vigorous complaints serve to
summon her husband, when both flit about close to the intruder, and
scold roundly in fierce, accusing notes, which yet have a baby lisp
about them.
No. 74.
MYRTLE WARBLER.
A. O. U. No. 655. Dendroica coronata (Linn.).
Synonym.—Yellow-rumped Warbler.
Description.—_Adult male in spring_: Above slaty blue with black
streaks, smaller on sides of crown and nape, broader on back; below
white, with black on upper breast, sides of middle breast, and sides
in endless variety of patterns; a large patch on each side of breast,
a partially concealed patch in center of crown, and rump, bright
yellow (lemon or canary); superciliary line white; a deep black patch
on side of head; wings fuscous; tail darker; middle and greater
coverts narrowly tipped with white, forming two rather conspicuous
bars; three outer pairs of tail-feathers with white blotches on inner
webs, decreasing centrally; bill black; feet dark. _Female in spring,
and both sexes in fall_: Duller; the blue of upperparts overlaid with
brownish; a brownish wash on sides of breast and flanks; black of
breast obscure,—restricted to centers of feathers; yellow of
breast-spots pale or wanting. _Immature_: Brownish above; whitish
below with a few obscure dusky streaks. Length 5.25-5.75
(133.3-146.1); av. of five males: wing 2.98 (75.7); tail 2.22 (56.4);
bill .38 (9.7); tarsus .78 (20).
Recognition Marks.—Larger; _white_ throat as distinguished from _D.
auduboni_, which it otherwise closely resembles.
Nesting.—Not known to breed in Washington. _Nest_ as in next species.
_Eggs_ indistinguishable.
General Range.—“Eastern North America chiefly, straggling more or less
commonly to the Pacific; breeds from the northern United States
northward, and winters from southern New England and the Ohio Valley
southward to the West Indies, and through Mexico to Panama” (A. O. U.
’95). “An abundant summer resident on Vancouver Island and mainland
(B. C.), chiefly west of Cascades” (Kermode).
Range in Washington.—Spring and fall migrant, probably of regular
occurrence east and west of the Cascades.
Migrations.—_Spring_: Tacoma, Apr. 27, 1906, 1907; Seattle, May 3,
1908; Chelan, May 22, 1905; Yakima, Apr. 30, 1891.
Authorities.—Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. pt. II., 1858, 272, 273.
C&S. Rh. Ra. D². Kk. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. Prov. C.
While only a little less lovely than its local kinsman, the Audubon
Warbler, by as much as it has four patches of gold instead of five, this
beautiful migrant appears to have been very largely lost to sight in the
throng of its more brilliant relatives. Rathbun, writing from Seattle,
says of it: “A regular and not uncommon spring migrant, associating with
_D. auduboni_. Have no fall record.” Bowles from Tacoma says: “An
irregular fall migrant, very numerous some years, the fall of 1905 for
example. Have never seen it in spring.” Yakima, April 30, 1891; Chelan,
May 22, 1905; Tacoma, April 27, 1907, are some of my own records. Fannin
gives the species as “An abundant summer resident, chiefly west of the
Cascades,” in British Columbia, and it should occur regularly within our
borders during migration.
The _tchip_ note of the Myrtle Warbler is indistinguishable from that of
_D. auduboni_, but a single glimpse of the white throat is sufficient to
establish identity. Those seen have necessarily been at close quarters
and ranging low, in willow thickets, along the margins of ponds, etc.,
but it is altogether possible for a migrant troop to hold to the
tree-tops in passing and so elude observation from “Forty-nine” to the
Columbia.
No. 75.
AUDUBON’S WARBLER.