The Birds of Washington (Volume 1 of 2) / A complete, scientific and popular account of the 372 species of birds found in the state

Again, the Rough-winged Swallow has a steadier, rather more labored flight than that of its foil. Its aerial course is more dignified, leisurely, less impulsive and erratic. In nesting, altho it may include the range of the Sand Martin, or even nest side by side with it, it has a wider latitude for choice and is not hampered by local tradition. If it burrows in a bank it is quite as likely to dig near the bottom as the top. Crevices in masonry or stone quarries, crannies and abutments of bridges or even holes in trees, are utilized. In Lincoln County where cover is scarce and the food supply attractive, I found them nesting along irrigating ditches with banks not over two feet high. One guileless pair I knew excavated a nest in the gravelly bank of an ungraded lot only three feet above the sidewalk of a prominent street, Denny Way, in Seattle. These birds were unsuccessful, but another pair, which enjoyed the protection of some sturdy fir roots below ground, brought off a brood on Fifty-fifth Street, near my home.

Unlike the Bank Swallows, the Rough-wings do not colonize to any great extent, but are rather solitary. Favorable conditions may attract several pairs to a given spot, as a gravel pit, but when together they are little given to community functions.

These Swallows are pretty evenly distributed thruout the length and breadth of the State, save that they do not venture into high altitudes. Since they are so catholic in taste, it would seem that they are destined to flourish. They are possibly now to be considered, after the Cliff Swallow, the most numerous species. I found them regularly along the west Olympic Coast in the summer of 1906; and, with Mr. Edson, of Bellingham, in June, 1905, found a single pair nesting in characteristic isolation on Bare Island, off Waldron.

Further than this, the bird under consideration resembles the other bird quite closely in notes, in habits, and in general appearance, and requires sharp distinction in accordance with the suggestions given above under “Recognition Marks.”

No. 129.
BANK SWALLOW.

A. O. U. No. 616. Riparia riparia (Linn).

Synonym.—Sand Martin.

Description.—Adult: Upperparts plain, brownish gray; wings fuscous; throat and belly white; a brownish gray band across the breast; a tiny tuft of feathers above the hind toe. There is some variation in the extent of the pectoral band; it is sometimes produced indistinctly backward, and sometimes even interrupted. Length 5.00-5.25 (127-133.3); wing 3.95 (100.3); tail 1.97 (50); bill from nostril .20 (5.1).

Recognition Marks.—Smallest of the Swallows; throat white; brownish gray pectoral band on white ground.

Nesting.—Nest, at end of tunnels in banks, two or three feet in; a frail mat of straws and grasses and occasionally feathers. Breeds usually in colonies. Eggs, 4-6, sometimes 7, pure white. Av. size, .70 × .49 (17.8 × 12.5). Season: June; one brood.

General Range.—Northern Hemisphere; in America south to West Indies, Central America, and northern South America; breeding from the middle districts of the United States northward to about the limit of trees.

Range in Washington.—Summer resident; not common. A few large colonies are known east of the Cascades; westerly they are rare or wanting.

Migrations.—Spring: May 11, 1896, Chelan.

Authorities.—Clivicola riparia, Dawson, Auk, Vol. XIV. April, 1897, p. 179. T. [L¹.] D¹. Kb. D². Kk. B. E. (H).

Specimens.—Prov. C.

Those who know, conceive a regard for this plain-colored bird which is quite out of keeping with its humble garb and its confessedly prosy ways. The fact is, we have no other bird so nearly cosmopolitan, and we of the West, who are being eternally reminded of our newness, and who are, indeed, upon the alert for some new shade of color upon the feather of a bird for each added degree of longitude, take comfort in the fact that here at least is an unchangeable type, a visible link between Stumptown-on-Swinomish and Florence on the Arno. Birds of precisely this feather are summering on the Lena, or else hawking at flies on the sunny Gaudalquivir, or tunneling the sacred banks of the Jordan; and the flattery is not lost upon us of such as still prefer the Nespilem and the Pilchuck.

The life of a Swallow is so largely spent a-wing, that our interest in it centers even more than in the case of other birds upon the time when it is bound to earth by family ties. We are scarcely conscious of the presence of the Bank Swallow until one day we see a great company of them fluttering about a sand-bank which overlooks the river, all busily engaged in digging the tunnels which are to shelter their young for that season. These birds are regularly gregarious, and a nesting colony frequently numbers hundreds.

The birds usually select a spot well up within a foot or two of the top of a nearly perpendicular bank of soil or sand, and dig a straight, round tunnel three or four feet long. If, however, the soil contains stones, a greater length and many turns may be required to reach a safe spot for the slight enlargement where the nest proper is placed. The bird appears to loosen the earth with its closed beak, swaying from side to side the while; and, of course, fallen dirt or sand is carried out in the mouth. Sometimes the little miner finds a lens-shaped tunnel more convenient, and I have seen them as much as seven inches in width and only two in height. While the members of a colony, especially if it be a small one, usually occupy a straggling, horizontal line of holes, their burrows are not infrequently to be seen in loose tiers, so that the bank presents a honey-combed appearance.

Communal life seems a pleasant thing to these Swallows, and there is usually a considerable stir of activity about the quarters. A good deal of social twittering also attends the unending gyrations. The wonder is that the rapidly moving parts of this aerial kaleidoscope never collide, and that the cases of turning up at the wrong number are either so few or so amicably adjusted. The nesting season is, however, beset with dangers. Weasels and their ilk sometimes find entrance to the nesting burrows, and they are an easy prey to underbred small boys as well. The undermining of the nesting cliff by the swirling river sometimes precipitates an entire colony—at least its real and personal property—to destruction.

A certain populous bank near Chelan faced west, and whenever the west wind blew, the fine volcanic ash, which composed the cliff, was whirled into the mouths of the burrows, so rapidly, indeed, that the inmates required to be frequently at work in order to maintain an exit. A few dessicated carcasses, which I came across in old, filled-up burrows, I attributed to misfortune in this regard.

Bank Swallows are the least musical of the Swallow kind,—unless, perhaps, we except the Rough-winged species, which is naturally associated in mind with this. They have, nevertheless, a characteristic twitter, an unmelodious sound like the rubbing together of two pebbles. An odd effect is produced when the excited birds are describing remonstrant parabolas at an intruder’s head. The heightened pitch in the tones of the rapidly approaching bird, followed instantly by the lower tone of full retreat, is enough to startle a slumbering conscience in one who meditates mischief on a Swallow’s home.

No. 130.
AMERICAN BARN SWALLOW.

A. O. U. No. 613. Hirundo erythrogastra Bodd.

Synonyms.—American Barn Swallow. Fork-tailed Swallow.

Description.—Adult: Above lustrous steel-blue; in front an imperfect collar of the same hue; forehead chestnut; lores black; throat and breast rufous; the remaining underparts, including lining of wings, more or less tinged with the same, according to age and season; wings and tail blackish, with purplish or greenish reflections; tail deeply forked, the outer pair of feathers being from one to two inches longer, and the rest graduated; white blotches on inner webs (except on middle pair) follow the bifurcation. Immature: Forehead and throat paler; duller or brownish above; lateral tail-feathers not so long. Length about 7.00 (177.8); wing 4.75 (120.6); tail 3.00-4.50 (76.2-114.3); bill from nostril .24 (6.1).

Recognition Marks.—Aerial habit; rufous of throat and underparts; forked tail; nest usually inside the barn.

Nesting.—Nest: a neat bracket or half-bowl of mud, luxuriously lined with grass and feathers, and cemented to a beam of barn or bridge. In Washington still nests occasionally in original haunts, viz., cliffs, caves, and crannied sea-walls. Eggs: 3-6, of variable shape,—oval or elongated; white or pinkish white and spotted with cinnamon or umber. Av. size .76 × .55 (19.3 × 14). Season: last week in May and first week in July; two broods. Stehekin, Aug. 10, 1896, 4 eggs.

General Range.—North America at large. Perhaps the most widely and generally distributed of any American bird. Winters in Central and South America.

Range in Washington.—Summer resident of regular occurrence at lower levels thruout the State, less common west of the Cascades, more common elsewhere in the older settled valleys.

Migrations.—Spring: c. May 1st; Yakima County, April 27, 1907; May 3, 1908. Fall: c. September 10th; Seattle, September 20, 1907.

Authorities.—Hirundo horeorum Benton, Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. XII., pt. II., 1860, p. 184. T. C&S. L. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². Ss¹. Ss². J. B. E.

Specimens.—Prov. P¹. C. E.

One hardly knows what quality to admire most in this boyhood’s and life-long friend, the Barn Swallow. All the dear associations of life at the old farm come thronging up at sight of him. You think of him somehow as a part of the sacred past; yet here he is today as young and as fresh as ever, bubbling over with springtime laughter, ready for a frolic over the bee-haunted meadows, or willing to settle down on the nearest fence-wire and recount to you with sparkling eyes and eloquent gesture the adventures of that glorious trip up from Mexico.

Perhaps it is his childlike enthusiasm which stirs us. He has come many a league this morning, yet he dashes in thru the open doors and shouts like a boisterous schoolboy, “Here we are, you dear old barn; ar’n’t we glad to get back again!” Then it’s out to see the horse-pond; and down the lane where the cattle go, with a dip under the bridge and a few turns over the orchard—a new purpose, or none, every second—life one full measure of abounding joy!

Or is it the apotheosis of motion which takes the eye? See them as they cast a magic spell over the glowing green of the young alfalfa, winding about in the dizzy patterns of a heavenly ballet, or vaulting at a thought to snatch an insect from the sky. Back again, in again, out again, away, anywhere, everywhere, with two-mile a minute speed and effortless grace.

But it is the sweet confidingness of this dainty Swallow which wins us. With all the face of Nature before him he yet prefers the vicinage of men, and comes out of his hilly fastnesses as soon as we provide him shelter. We all like to be trusted whether we deserve it or not. And if we don’t deserve it; well, we will, that’s all.

The Barn Swallow is not a common bird with us as it is east of the Rockies, nor is it evenly distributed thruout our State. Wherever the country is well settled it is likely, but not certain, to be found; while for the rest it is confined to such lower altitudes as afford it suitable shelter caves and nesting cliffs.

At the head of Lake Chelan in 1895 I found such a primitive nesting haunt. The shores of the lake near its head are very precipitous, since Castle Mountain rises to a height of over 8,000 feet within a distance of two miles. Along the shore-line in the side of the cliffs, which continue several hundred feet below the water, the waves have hollowed out crannies and caves. In one of these latter, which penetrates the granite wall to a depth of some twenty feet, I found four or five Barn Swallows’ nests, some containing young, and two, altho it was so late in the season (July 9, 1895), containing eggs. Other nests were found in neighboring crannies outside the cave. A visit paid to this same spot on August 10th, 1896, discovered one nest still occupied, and this contained four eggs.

Mr. F. S. Merrill, of Spokane, reports the Barn Swallow as nesting along the rocky walls of Hangman’s Creek, in just such situations as Cliff Swallows would choose; and back in ’89, I found a few associated with Violet-greens along the Natchez Cliffs, in Yakima County.

A colony of some twenty pairs may be found yearly nesting on Destruction Island, in the Pacific Ocean. A few of them still occupy wave-worn crannies in the sand-rock, overlooking the upper reaches of the tide, but most of the colony have taken refuge under the broad gables of the keepers’ houses.

The nest of the Barn Swallow is quadrispherical, or bracket-shaped, with an open top; and it usually depends for its position upon the adhesiveness of the mud used in construction. Dr. Brewer says of them: “The nests are constructed of distinct layers of mud, from ten to twelve in number, and each separated by strata of fine dry grasses. These layers are each made up of small pellets of mud, that have been worked over by the birds and placed one by one in juxtaposition until each layer is complete.” The mud walls thus composed are usually an inch in thickness, and the cavity left is first lined with fine soft grasses, then provided with abundant feathers, among which the speckled eggs lie buried and almost invisible.

Bringing off the brood is an event which may well arrest the attention of the human household. There is much stir of excitement about the barn. The anxious parents rush to and fro shouting tisic, tisic, now in encouragement, now in caution, while baby number one launches for the nearest beam. The pace is set, and babies number two to four follow hotly after, now lighting safely, now landing in the hay-mow, or compromising on a plow-handle. Upon the last-named the agonized parents urge another effort, for Tabby may appear at any moment. He tries, therefore, for old Nellie’s back, to the mild astonishment of that placid mare, who presently shakes him off. Number five tumbles outright and requires to be replaced by hand, if you will be so kind. And so the tragi-comedy wears on, duplicating human years in half as many days, until at last we see our Swallows among their twittering fellows strung like notes of music on the far-flung staff of Western Union.

If birds really mean anything more to us than so many Japanese kites flown without strings, we may surely join with Dr. Brewer in his whole-souled appreciation of these friendly Swallows: “Innocent and blameless in their lives, there is no evil blended with the many benefits they confer on man. They are his ever constant benefactor and friend, and are never known even indirectly to do an injury. For their daily food and for that of their offspring, they destroy the insects that annoy his cattle, injure his fruit trees, sting his fruit, or molest his person. Social, affectionate and kind in their intercourse with each other; faithful and devoted in the discharge of their conjugal and parental duties; exemplary, watchful, and tender alike to their own family and to all their race; sympathizing and benevolent when their fellows are in any trouble,—these lovely and beautiful birds are bright examples to all, in their blameless and useful lives.”

No. 131.
TREE SWALLOW.

A. O. U. No. 614. Iridoprocne bicolor (Vieill.).

Synonym.—White-bellied Swallow.

Description.—Adult male: Above, lustrous steel-blue or steel-green; below, pure white; lores black; wings and tail black, showing some bluish or greenish luster; tail slightly forked. Female: Similar to male, but duller. Immature: Upper parts mouse-gray instead of metallic; below whitish. Length about 6.00 (152.4); wing 4.57; (116.1) tail 2.19 (55.6); bill from nostril .25 (6.4).

Recognition Marks.—Aërial habits; steel-blue or greenish above; pure white below; a little larger than the next species.

Nesting.—Nest: in holes in trees or, latterly, in bird houses, plentifully lined with soft materials, especially feathers. Eggs: 4-6, pure white,—pinkish white before removal of contents. Av. size .75 × .54 (19.1 × 13.7). Season: last week in May, first week in July; two broods.

General Range.—North America at large, breeding from the Fur Countries south to New Jersey, the Ohio Valley, Kansas, Colorado, California, etc.; wintering from South Carolina and the Gulf States southward to the West Indies and Guatemala.

Range in Washington.—Summer resident; abundant on West-side; not common east of the Cascade Mountains.

Migrations.—Spring: First week in March or earlier; Seattle, March 4, 1889; March 7, 1890; Tacoma, March 2, 1907; March 3, 1908; Bellingham (Edson), Tacoma (Bowles), Steilacoom (Dawson), February 25, 1905; Skagit Marshes near Fir (L. R. Reynolds), February 1, 1906; Seattle (Dr. Clinton T. Cooke), January 21, 1906.

Authorities.—Hirundo bicolor Vieillot, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX., pt. II., 1858, p. 311. T. C&S. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². J. B. E.

Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. C.

One Swallow does not make a summer, but a little twittering company of them faring northward makes the heart glad, and fills it with a sense of exaltation as it responds to the call of these care-free children of the air. The remark applies to Swallows in general, but particularly to Tree Swallows, for in their immaculate garb of dark blue and white, they seem like crystallizations of sky and templed cloud, grown animate with the all-compelling breath of spring. They have about them the marks of high-born quality, which we cannot but admire as they spurn with a wing-stroke the lower strata, and rise to accept we know not what dainties of the upper air.

While not so hardy as Robin and Bluebird, since it must maintain an exclusive diet of insects, Tree Swallow is, occasionally, very venturesome as to the season of its northward flight. Indeed a succession of mild winters might induce it to become a permanent resident of the Puget Sound country, and it is not certain that it has not already done so in some instances. It often reaches Seattle during the first week in March; while it was simultaneously observed at Tacoma (Bowles), and Bellingham (Edson) on the 24th day of February, 1905. In 1906 Mr. L. R. Reynolds reported seeing it in numbers on the Skagit marshes near Fir, on the 1st of February; and Dr. Clinton T. Cooke, looking from his office window in the Alaska Building, saw a large specimen, apparently an adult male, soaring about over the Grand Opera House, in Seattle, on the 21st day of January.

The Tree Swallow is a lover of the water and is seldom to be found at a great distance from it. It is close to the surface of ponds and lakes that the earliest insects are to be found in spring, and it is here that the bird may maintain the spotlessness of its plumage by frequent dips. Hence a favorite nesting site for these birds is one of the partially submerged forests which are so characteristic of western Washington lakes. The birds are not themselves able to make excavations in the wood, but they have no difficulty in possessing themselves of the results of other birds’ labors. Old holes will do if not too old, but I once knew a pair of these Swallows to drive away a pair of Northwest Flickers from a brand new nesting-hole, on the banks of Lake Union, and to occupy it themselves.

The nesting cavity is copiously lined with dead grass and feathers; and sometime during the last week of May from four to six white eggs are deposited. The female sits very closely and it is sometimes necessary to remove her by hand in order to examine the nest. Both parents are very solicitous on such occasions, and should a feather from the nest be tossed into the air, one of them will at once catch it and fly about awaiting a chance to replace it. Or if there are other Swallows about, some neighbor will snatch it first and make off with it to add to her own collection.

Tree Swallows are slowly availing themselves of artificial nesting sites. In fact, several species of our birds have become quite civilized, so that nowadays no carefully constructed and quietly situated bird-box need be without its spring tenant. A pair once built their nest in a sort of tower attic, just inside a hole which a Flicker had pierced in the ceiling of an open belfry of a country church in Yakima. When in service the mouth of the swinging bell came within two feet of the brooding bird. One would suppose that the Swallows would have been crazed with fright to find themselves in the midst of such a tumult of sound; but their enterprise fared successfully, as I can testify, for at the proper time I saw the youngsters ranged in a happy, twittering row along the upper rim of the bell-wheel.

No. 132.
VIOLET-GREEN SWALLOW.

A. O. U. No. 615. Tachycineta thalassina lepida (Mearns).

Synonym.—Northern Violet-green Swallow.

Description.—Adult male: Upperparts, including pileum, hind-neck, back, upper portion of rump, scapulars, and lesser wing-coverts, rich velvety bronze-green, occasionally tinged with purple, crown usually more or less contrasting with color of back, greenish-brown rather than bronze-green, and more strongly tinged with purple; a narrow cervical collar, lower rump, and upper tail-coverts, velvety violet-purple; wings (except lesser coverts) and tail blackish glossed with violet or purple; lores grayish; underparts, continuous with cheeks and area over and behind eye, and with conspicuous flank patch, nearly meeting fellow across rump, pure white; under wing-coverts pale gray, whitening on edge of wing. Bill black; feet brownish black; iris brown. Adult female: Like male but usually much duller, bronze-green of upperparts reduced to greenish brown, or brown with faint greenish reflections. Young birds are plain mouse-gray above and their inner secondaries are touched with white. Length 4.50-5.50 (114.3-139.7); wing 4.41 (112); tail 1.77 (45); bill .20 (5.2).

Recognition Marks.—Smaller; green and violet above, white below; white-cheeked and white-rumped (apparently) as distinguished from the Tree Swallow.

Nesting.—Nest: of dried grasses with or without feathers, placed in crevice of cliff or at end of vapor hole in basalt walls; latterly in bird boxes and about buildings. Eggs: 4-6, pure white. Av. size .72 × .48 (18.3 × 12.2). Season: June.

General Range.—Western United States, from the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific, north to the Yukon Valley, south in winter to Costa Rica.

Range in Washington.—Summer resident, of regular occurrence in mountain valleys and among the foothills; rare or local elsewhere; becoming common in the larger cities.

Migrations.—Spring: “About the 10th of May” (Suckley)[49]; now at least March; Chelan, March 27, 1896; Seattle, March 24, 1906; Tacoma, March 16, 1907; March 14, 1908; Olympia, February 27(?), 1897.

Authorities.—?Ornith. Com. Ac. Nat. Sci. Phila., VII., 1837, 193 (Columbia River). Hirundo thalassina Swainson, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX., pt. II., 1858, p. 312. T. C&S. L¹. Rh. D¹. D². Ss¹. Kk. J. B. E.

Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. P¹. C. E.

To appear to the best advantage this dainty sky-child should be seen on a bright day, when the livid green of back and crown may reflect the glancing rays of the sun with a delicate golden sheen. At such a time, if one is clambering about the walls of some rugged granite cliff of the lower Cascades, he feels as if the dwellers of Olympus had come down in appropriate guise to inquire his business. Not, however, that these lovely creatures are either meddlesome or shrewish. Even when the nest is threatened by the strange presence, the birds seem unable to form any conception of harm, and pursue their way in sunny disregard. Especially pleasing to the eye is the pure white of the bird’s underparts, rising high on flanks and cheeks and sharply contrasting with the pattern of violet and green, in such fashion that, if Nature had invited us to “remold it nearer to the heart’s desire,” we must have declined the task.

Before the advent of the white man upon Puget Sound, these birds commonly nested in deserted woodpecker holes and in natural cavities of trees, while upon the East-side they nested (and still do to a large extent) upon the granite or lava cliffs. In the last-named situations they utilize the rocky clefts and inaccessible crannies, and are especially fond of the smaller vapor holes which characterize the basaltic formations. Favorable circumstances may attract a considerable colony, to the number of a hundred pairs or more, but even so it is not easy to find a getatable nest. If one is able to reach the actual nesting site, the mouth of the ancient gas-vent which the birds have chosen for a home may prove too small to admit the hand.

Thruout the State, however, and especially upon the West-side, these exquisite birds are forsaking their ancient haunts and claiming protection of men. Already they have become common in larger cities, where they occupy bird-boxes and crannies of buildings. South Tacoma, being nearest to their old oak nurseries, is quite given over to them, and it is a pretty sight on a sunny day in April to see them fluttering about the cottages inspecting knot-holes and recessed gables or, in default of such conveniences, daintily voicing their disapproval of such neglect on the part of careless humans.

In these birds and in the Barn Swallows, the well known twittering and creaking notes of Swallows most nearly approach the dignity of song. Indeed, Mr. Rathbun contends that the song heard at close quarters is a really creditable affair, varied, vivacious, and musical.

The Violet-greens are somewhat less hardy or venturesome than the Tree Swallows, arriving usually during the last week in March. Last year’s nesting site becomes at once the spring rendezvous, but the duties of maternity are not seriously undertaken until about the 1st of June. At the head of Lake Chelan some twenty pairs of these Swallows, having left the old nesting cliff a mile away, had engaged quarters at Field’s Hotel, being assigned to the boxed eaves of a second-story piazza in this pleasant caravanserai; but they had not yet deposited eggs on the 20th of June, 1906.

Altho not formerly so fastidious—I have found cliff nests composed entirely of dried grass—these birds have become connoisseurs in upholstery of feathers, and their unglossed white eggs, five or six in number, are invariably smothered in purloined down, until we begin to suspect that our fowls rather than our features have favored our adoption.

Ampelidæ—The Waxwings

No. 133.
BOHEMIAN WAXWING.

A. O. U. No. 618. Bombycilla garrula (Linn.).

Synonyms.—Northern Waxwing. Greater Waxwing.

Description.—Adults: A conspicuous crest; body plumage soft, grayish-brown or fawn-color, shading by insensible degrees between the several parts; back darker, passing into bright cinnamon-rufous on forehead and crown, and thru dark ash of rump and upper tail-coverts into black of tail; tips of tail feathers abruptly yellow (gamboge); breast with a vinaceous cast, passing into cinnamon-rufous of cheeks; a narrow frontal line passing thru eye, and a short throat-patch velvety black; under tail-coverts deep cinnamon; wing blackish-ash, the tips of the primary coverts and the tips of the secondaries on outer webs white, tips of primaries on outer webs bright yellow, whitening outwardly; the shafts of the rectrices produced into peculiar flattened red “sealing-wax” tips; bill and feet black. Length about 8.00 (203.2); wing 4.61 (117.1); tail 2.56 (65); bill .47 (11.9).

Recognition Marks.—Chewink size; grayish-brown coloration. As distinguished from the much more common Cedar-bird; belly not yellow; white wing-bars; under tail-coverts cinnamon.

Nesting.—Not known to breed in Washington. Like that of next species. Eggs, larger. Av. size, .98 × .69 (24.9 × 17.5).

General Range.—Northern portions of northern hemisphere. In North America, south in winter irregularly to Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois, Kansas, southern Colorado, and northern California. Breeds north of United States; also, possibly, in the mountains of the West.

Range in Washington.—Winter resident, regular and sometimes abundant east of the Cascades, especially in the northern tier of counties; rare or casual on the West-side.

Authorities.—Ampelis garrulus, Brewster, B. N. O. C. VII. Oct. 1882, p. 227. D¹. J. E.

Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. P¹. C.

Nothing can exceed the refined elegance of these “gentlemen in feathers” who visit us yearly in winter, rarely on Puget Sound, but abundantly in the northeastern portion of the State. Demure, gentle, courteous to a fault, and guileless to the danger point, and beyond, these lovely creatures exceed in beauty, if possible, their more familiar cousin, the Cedarbird. They move about in flocks, sometimes to the number of hundreds, and as the rigors of winter come on they search the orchard and berry-patch for ungarnered fruit, or divide with hungry Robins the largess of rowan trees. Much time is spent in amiable converse, but it is not at all fair to call them “chatterers,” or garrulus, as tho they were monkeys. Dignity is of the very essence of their being, and, as fond as they are of good living, they would starve rather than do anything rude or unseemly.

An observer in Utah[50] relates how an ill-mannered Robin, jealous of the good behavior of a company of these visitors, in an apple tree, set about to abuse them. “He would bluster and scream out his denunciations till he seemed unable longer to restrain himself, when, to all appearances, absolutely beside himself with rage because the objects of his wrath paid no attention to his railings, he did the catapult act—hurling himself straight at the intruders. Several of the Waxwings, in order to avoid an actual collision, left the places where they were feeding, and alighting on twigs near by paused for a moment, as if to observe the antics of the furious Robin, when they would resume their feeding. Their indifference to the loud bullying protests of the Robin, and their persistence in remaining on the premises after he had ordered them off so exasperated Mr. Redbreast that with screams of defiance he dashed from group to group without stopping to alight, until, exhausted quite as much by the heat of anger as by the unusual exertions he was making, he was glad to drop to a branch and pant for breath”—while the Waxwings continued to ignore the churl, as gentlemen should.

Concerning the nesting range of this bird there has been much surmise. For many years the single eggs taken by Kennicott at Fort Yukon on July 4, 1861, remained unique; but latterly we are learning that it also nests much further south. Mr. Brooks took four sets, one from a Murray pine and three from Douglas firs, at 158-Mile House, B. C., in June, 1901[51]. Dr. C. S. Moody[52] reports the taking of a set of five eggs at Sandpoint, Idaho, July 5, 1904. On June 26, 1904, Robert G. Bee, of Provo City, found a nest near Sunnyside, Utah[53]. With such examples before us it is practically certain that the species will be found nesting in this State. Indeed, Mr. F. S. Merrill, of Spokane, believes that he once found a nest of the Bohemian Waxwing on the headwaters of the Little Spokane River near Milan. The nest he describes as having been placed in an alder at a height of eight feet, and it contained four eggs on the point of hatching. The brooding bird allowed a close approach while upon the nest, but was not seen again after being once flushed.

No. 134.
CEDAR WAXWING.

A. O. U. No. 619. Bombycilla cedrorum Vieill.

Synonyms.—Cedar-bird. Cherry-bird. Carolina Waxwing. Lesser Waxwing.

Description.—Adults: A conspicuous crest; extreme forehead, lores, and line thru eye velvety-black; chin blackish, fading rapidly into the rich grayish-brown of remaining fore-parts and head; a narrow whitish line bordering the black on the forehead and the blackish of the chin; back darker, shading thru ash of rump to blackish-ash of tail; tail-feathers abruptly tipped with gamboge yellow; belly sordid yellow; under tail-coverts white; wings slaty-gray, primaries narrowly edged with whitish; secondaries and inner quills without white markings, but bearing tips of red “sealing-wax”; the tail-feathers are occasionally found with the same curious, horny appendages; bill black; feet plumbeous. Sexes alike, but considerable individual variation in number and size of waxen tips. Young, streaked everywhere with whitish, and usually without red tips. Length 6.50-7.50 (165.1-190.5); wing 3.70 (94); tail 2.31 (58.7); bill .40 (10.2).

Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; soft grayish-brown plumage; crest; red sealing-wax tips on secondaries; belly yellow; wings without white bars or spots, as distinguished from preceding species.

Nesting.—Nest, a bulky affair of leaves, grasses, bark-strips and trash, well lined with rootlets and soft materials; placed in crotch or horizontally saddled on limb of orchard or evergreen tree. Eggs, 3-6, dull grayish blue or putty-color, marked sparingly with deep-set, rounded spots of umber or black. Av. size, .86 × .61 (21.8 × 15.5). Season: June, July; two broods.

General Range.—North America at large, from the Fur Countries southward. In winter from the northern border of the United States south to the West Indies and Costa Rica. Breeds from Virginia, Kansas, Oregon, etc., northward.

Range in Washington.—Of regular occurrence in the State, but irregular or variable locally. Resident, but less common in winter.

Authorities.—Ampelis cedrorum Baird, Cooper and Suckley, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. XII. pt. II. 1860, p. 187. T. C&S. Rh. D¹. Kb. Ra. D². Ss². Kk. B. E.

Specimens.—(U. of W.) Prov. P. B. E.

One does not care to commit himself in precise language upon the range of the Cedarbird, or to predict that it will be found at any given spot in a given season. The fact is, Cedarbirds are gypsies of the feathered kind. There are always some of them about somewhere, but their comings and goings are not according to any fixed law. A company of Cedarbirds may throng the rowan trees in your front yard some bleak day in December; they may nest in your orchard the following July; and you may not see them on your premises again for years—unless you keep cherry trees. It must be confessed (since the shade of the cherry tree is ever sacred to Truth) that the Cedarbird, or “Cherrybird,” has a single passion, a consuming desire for cherries. But don’t kill him for that. You like cherries yourself. All the more reason, then, why you should be charitable toward a brother’s weakness. Besides, he is so handsome,—handsomer himself than a luscious cherry even. Feast your eyes upon him, those marvelous melting browns, those shifting saffrons and Quaker drabs, those red sealing-wax tips on the wing-quills (he is canning cherries, you see, and comes provided). Feast your eyes, I say, and carry the vision to the table with you—and a few less cherries. Or, if there are not enough for you both, draw a decent breadth of mosquito-netting over the tree, and absolve your soul of murderous intent. Remember, too, if you require self-justification, that earlier in the season he diligently devoured noxious worms and insect pests, so that he has a clear right to a share in the fruit of his labors.

Cherries are by no means the only kind of fruit eaten by these birds. Like most orchard-haunting species, they are very fond of mulberries, while the red berries of the mountain ash are a staple ration in fall and winter. Truth to tell, these beauties are sad gluttons, and they will gorge themselves at times till the very effort of swallowing becomes a delicious pain.

The Cedarbird, being so singularly endowed with the gift of beauty, is denied the gift of song. He is, in fact, the most nearly voiceless of any of the American Oscines, his sole note being a high-pitched sibilant squeak. Indeed, so high-pitched is this extraordinary note that many people, and they trained bird-men, cannot hear them at all, even when the Waxwings are squeaking all about them. It is an almost uncanny spectacle, that of a company of Waxwings sitting aloft in some leafless tree early in spring, erect, immovable, like soldiers on parade, but complaining to each other in that faint, penetrating monotone. It is as tho you had come upon a company of the Immortals, high-removed, conversing of matters too recondite for human ken, and surveying you the while with Olympian disdain. You steal away from the foot of the tree with a chastened sense of having encountered something not quite understandable.

The dilatory habits of these birds are well shown in their nesting, which they put off until late June or July, for no apparent reason. In constructing the nest the birds use anything soft and pliable which happens to catch the eye. Some specimens are composed entirely of the green hanging mosses, while others are a complicated mixture of twigs, leaves, rootlets, fibers, grasses, rags, string, paper, and what not. The nest may be placed at any moderate height up to fifty feet, and a great variety of trees are used altho orchard trees are favorites. The birds are half gregarious, even in the nesting season, so that a small orchard may contain a dozen nests, while another as good, a little way removed, has none. In the Nooksack Valley, near Glacier, Mr. Brown showed me a tiny pasture carved out of the woods, where he had found, during the previous season, six nests of the Cedarbird, placed at heights ranging from three to six feet above the ground in small clumps of vine maple or alder saplings. In Chelan we found them nesting in the tops of the solitary pine trees which line the stream.

The female sits closely upon her eggs, not infrequently remaining until forcibly removed. Once off, however, she makes away without complaint, and pays no further attention to the incident until the intruder has departed.

Always of a most gentle disposition, when the nesting season arrives, according to Mr. Bowles, these birds richly deserve the name of Love Birds. A leaf from his note-book supports the statement: “July 7, 1896. To-day I watched two Cedarbirds selecting a nesting site, first one location being tested, then another. Finally they decided upon a suitable place and commenced picking both dry and green leaves from the surrounding trees, placing them upon a horizontal limb where two or three twigs projected. Almost all of these leaves blew off as soon as placed, greatly to the surprise of the birds, who solemnly watched them drop to the ground. These fallen leaves were never replaced, fresh ones being gathered instead, and these were always secured from growing trees. Then one got a long strip of plant silk and, placing it on the leaf foundation flew a foot or two away and lit. The other bird promptly took away the silk and brought it to its mate, who very gently took it and put it back. This operation was repeated again and again. At times both held the silk, sitting only an inch or two apart, whereupon the bird who was the original finder would, very gently, pull it from the bill of its mate and replace it. At the end of fifteen minutes of this loving passage I was obliged to retire, and I shall never know whether the plant fiber was successfully placed or merely worn out.”

Laniidæ—The Shrikes

No. 135.
NORTHERN SHRIKE.

A. O. U. No. 621. Lanius borealis Vieill.

Synonyms.—Great Northern Shrike. Butcher-bird.

Description.—Adult: Upperparts clear, bluish gray, lightest—almost white—on upper tail-coverts; extreme forehead whitish; wings and tail black, the former with a conspicuous white spot at base of primaries, the latter with large, white terminal blotches on outer feathers, decreasing in size inwardly; a black band through eye, including auriculars; below grayish white, the feathers of the breast and sides narrowly tipped with dusky, producing a uniform, fine vermiculation which is always present; bill blackish, lightening at base of lower mandible; feet black. Young birds are barred or washed with grayish brown. The plumage of adult is sometimes overcast above with a faint olivaceous tinge. Length 9.25-10.75 (235-273.1); wing 4.50 (114.3); tail 4.19 (106.4); bill .72 (18.3); tarsus 1.07 (27.3).

Recognition Marks.—Robin size; gray and black coloring; sharply hooked bill; breast vermiculated with dusky, as distinguished from next species.

Nesting.—Does not breed in Washington. Nest: a well constructed bowl of sticks, thorn-twigs, grasses, and trash, heavily lined with plant-down and feathers; in bushes or low trees. Eggs: 3-7, dull white or greenish gray, thickly dotted and spotted with olive-green, brown, or lavender. Av. size, 1.07 × .78 (27.2 × 19.8).

General Range.—Northern North America; south in winter to the middle and southern portions of the United States. Breeds north of the United States except sparingly in northern New England.

Range in Washington.—Spring and fall migrant and not common winter resident thruout the State, chiefly at lower levels.

Authorities.—? Townsend, Journ. Ac. Nat. Sci. Phila. VIII. 1839, 152 (Columbia River). Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, 325. C&S. D¹. Ra. D². B. E.

Specimens.—(U. of W.) P¹. Prov. B. E.

Flitting like a gray ghost in the wake of the cheerful hosts of Juncoes and Redpolls, comes this butcher of the North in search of his accustomed prey. If it is his first visit south he posts himself upon the tip of a tree and rasps out an inquiry of the man with the gun. Those that survive these indiscretions are thereafter faintly descried in the distance, either in the act of diving from some anxious summit, or else winging swiftly over the inequalities of the ground.

All times are killing time for this bloodthirsty fellow, and even in winter he “jerks” the meat not necessary for present consumption—be it chilly-footed mouse or palpitating Sparrow—upon some convenient thorn or splinter. In spring the north-bound bird is somewhat more amiable, being better fed, and he pauses from time to time during the advance to sing a strange medley, which at a little remove sounds like a big electric buzz. This is meant for a love song, and is doubtless so accepted by the proper critics, but its rendition sometimes produces about the same effect upon a troop of Finches, which a cougar’s serenade does upon a cowering deer.

Experts try to make out that this creature is beneficial, on the whole, because of the insects he devours, but I have seen too much good red blood on this butcher’s beak myself. My gun is loaded!

Suckley writing in the Fifties remarks the scarcity of all Shrikes in Oregon or Washington “Territories,” and this is fortunately still true, especially west of the Cascades. The probable explanation is that the mild climate of the Pacific slope of Alaska retards or prevents the southward movement of the more hardy species.