VOLUME 3

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

OF THE

Roosevelt Wild Life Forest Experiment Station

OF

The New York State College of Forestry
AT Syracuse University

THE BIRDS OF YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK
By MILTON P. SKINNER

CONTENTS OF ROOSEVELT WILD LIFE BULLETIN

(To obtain these publications see announcement on back of title page.)

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. i, No. i. December, 192 1.

1. Foreword Dr. George Bird Grinnell

2. Roosevelt Wild Life State Memorial Dr. Charles C. Adams

3. Appropriateness and Appreciation of the Roosevelt Wild Life

Memorial Dr. Oiarles C. Adams

4. Suggestions for Research on North American Big Game and

Fur-Bearing Animals Dr. Charles C. Adams

5. Theodore Roosevelt Sir Harry H. Johnston

6. Roosevelt's Part in Forestry Dr. GiflFord Pinchot

7. Roosevelt and Wild Life Mr. Edmund Heller

8. The Present Economic and Social Conditions as Results of Ap-

plied Science and Invention Hon. George W. Perkins

9. Suggestions for Management of Forest Wild Life in the Allegany

State Park, New York Dr. Charles C. Adams

10. Aims and Status of Plant and Animal Preserve Work in Europe,

with Special Reference to Germanj', Including a List of the Most
Important Publications on These Preserv es. .Dr. Theodor G. Ahrcns

11. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. i, No. 2. August, 1922.

(Out of print)

1. An Opportunity for Great Public Service Col. Henrj- S. Graves

2. An Investigation of the Beaver in Herkimer and Hamilton Coun-

ties of the Adirondacks Dr. Charles E. Johnson

3. The Life of the Yellowstone Beaver Mr. Edward R. Warren

4. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. 1, No. 3. March, 1923.

1. The Summer Birds of the Allegany State Park. . . Aretas A. Saunders

2. The Ruffed Grouse, with Special Reference to its Drumming.

Edmund J. Sawyer

3. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. i. No. 4. March, 1923.

1. Relation of Summer Birds to the Western Adirondack Forest.

Perley M. Silloway

2. Notes on the Relation of Birds to Adirondack Forest Vegetation.

Dr. Charles C. Adams

3. The Summer Birds of the Adirondacks in Franklin County, N. Y.

Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., and H. D. Minot
(Reprinted: original date of publication, 1877)

4. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor

Syracuse Univ. Bull.

FEBRUARY. 192 5

Vol. 24, No. 24

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

VOLUME 3, NUMBER I
OF THE

Roosevelt Wild Life Forest Experiment Station

OF

The New York State College of Forestry
AT Syracuse University

ANNOUNCEMENT

The serial publications of the RooseveU Wild Life Forest
Experiment Station consist of the following:

1. Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin.

2. Roosevelt Wild Life Annals.

The BuUetin is intended to include papers of general and popular
interest on the various phases of forest wild life, and the Annals
those of a more technical nature or having a less widespread
interest.

These publications are edited in cooperation with the College
Committee on Publications.

The editions of these publications are limited and do not permit
of general free distribution. Exchanges are invited. The subscrip-
tion price of the Bulletin is $4.00 per Vokune of four Numbers,
or $1.00 per single Number. The price of the Annals is $5.00 per
Volume of four Numbers, or $1.25 per single Number. All com-
munications concerning publications should be addressed to

Dr. Charles C. Adams, Director and Editor,

Roosevelt Wild Life Forest Experiment .'~^tation.
Syracuse, New York.

[2]

Copyright, 1925, by
Roosevelt W'ii.u Life Forest Experiment Statiom

Entered at the Post Otilice at Syracuse, N. Y., as second-class matter

TRUSTEES OF

THE NEW YORK STATE COLLEGE OF FORESTRY

Ex Officio

Dr. Charles W. Flixt, Cluuiccllor Syracuse University

Dr. Frank P. Graves, Commissioner of Education... Albany, N. Y.

Hon. Alexander Macdonald, Conservation Comm'r. . Albany, N. Y.

Hon. Seymour Lowman, Lieutenant-Governor Albany, N. Y.

Appointed by the Governor

Hon. Alexander T. Brown Syracuse, N. Y.

Hon. John R. Clancy Syracuse, N. Y.

Hon. Harold D. Cornwall Glenfield. N. Y.

Hon. George VV. Driscoll Syracuse, N. Y.

Hon. Louis Marshall X'ew York City

Hon. William H. Kelley Syracuse, N. Y.

Hon. Edward H. O'Hara Syracuse, N. Y.

Hon. J. Henry Walters New York City

Officers of the Bo.\rd

Hon. Louis Marshall President

Hon. John R. Clancy Vice-President

[3]

HONORARY ADVISORY COUNCIL OF THE ROOSEVELT
WILD LIFE STATION

Amf.kican Mk.mi!i;us

Mrs. (.'oKiXNE RoosiiN Ei.T I'ioiiiNSOX Xcw York C ity

Hon. Thkodore Roosevelt Washington, U. C.

Mr. Kermit Roosevelt Xew York Cily

Dr. George Bird Grixxeli New York City

Hon. GiFFORD PiNCHOT Harrisburg, Pa.

Mr. CuAuxcEY J. Hamlix Buffalo, X. Y.

]Jr. (iEORCE Shiras, 3rd Washington, D. C.

Dr. Fraxk M. Chai'Max X'ew York Cily

Dc.in I^KXKV S. Gra\ks Xcw Haven, ConiL

Eruoi'KAN Mk.mi;lus

Vjscount Grey Fallodon, England

Sir Harry H. Johnston Amndel, England

[4l

ROOSEVELT WILD LIFE STATION STAFF

Fraxki.ix Muox, M. F Dean of tlie College

Charles C. Adams, Ph.D., Sc. D Director of the Station

Alvix G. Whitxey, a. B Assistant Director

William Coxverse Kendall, A.M., M. D Ichthyologist

WiLFORD A. Dexce, B. S Assistant Ichthyologist

TeMPORAKV .\l'l'0IXTMEXrS*

Thomas L. Haxkixsox, B. S Ichthyologistt

Perley M. Silloway, M. S Roosevelt Field Ornithologist

Charles E. Johnsox, Ph. D Roosevelt Fur Naturalist

Aretas a. Sauxders, Ph. B Roosevelt Field Ornithologist

MiLTOx P. Skinner, B. S Roosevelt Field Naturalist

Bradford A. Scudder Roosevelt Game Naturalist

Alfred O. Gross, Ph. D Roosevelt Field Ornithologist

Collaborators*

Edward R. Warrex', B. S Roosevelt Game Naturalist

Richard A. Muttkowski, Ph. D Roosevelt Field Naturalist

Gilbert M. Smith, Ph. D Roosevelt Field Naturalist

Edmund Heller, A. B Roosevelt Game Naturalist

Milton P. Skixxer, B. S Roosevelt Field Naturalist

* Including only those who have made field investigations and whose reports
are now in preparation,
t Resigned as Station Ichthyologist Octohcr i, 19JI.

[5]

NATIONAL PARKS POLICY AND WILD LIFE

"The service thus established shall promote and regulate the use of the
Federal areas known as national parks, monuments, and reservations herein-
after specified, by such means and measures as conform to the fundamental
purpose of the said parks, monuments, and reservations, which purpose is to
conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and the wild life
therein and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by
such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future gen-
erations."

An act lo establish a National Park Service,
and for other purposes. Public — No.
235 — 64th Congress; (H. R. 15522);
1916.

"For the information of the public an outline of the administrative polic>'
to which the new Ser\ ice will adhere may now be announced. This policy is
based on three broad principles :

'first, that the national parks must be maintained in absolute unim-
paired form for the use of future generations as well as those
of our own time ;
second, that they are set apart for the use, observation, health, and

pleasure of the people; and
tliird, that the national interest must dictate all decisions affecting
public or private enterprise in the parks'."

Franklin K. Lane.
Third Annual Report, U. S. National Park
Service, p. 361 ; 1919.

RELATION OF BIRDS TO FORESTS

"Birds are not only essential to the welfare of the tree, but the tree is
necessary to the life of the bird. Consequently, there has been established
what is termed 'a balance of life' wherein there is the most delicate adjust-
ment between the tree, the insect, the bird and the sum total of the condi-
tions which go lo make up their environment. . . Birds are of value
to the forest, however, not only as the destro)-ers of their insect foes, but
the birds with the squirrels, help plant the forest by distributing seeds. The
seeds which are encased in a pulpy covering, those of the berry or fruit-
bearing trees, are voided unharmed by the birds often at a point far distant
from the parent tree, the bird thus acting as their distributor. .Scorns,
beech-nuts, and chestnuts are frc(iuently dropped or hidden by birds, and
the seeds of pines are released and scattered by the birds that seek them
in their cones. In short, we believe it can be clearly demonstrated that if
we should lose our birds we should also lose our forests."

Frank M. Chapman.
Seventh Report N. Y. Forest, Fish and Game
Commission, pp. 117, 120; 1901.

16]

CONTENTS

PAGE

1. The Birds of the Yellowstone National Park.

Milton P. Skinner, ii

2. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor. 191

ILLUSTRATIONS
PLATES

Plate I. Birds of the Yellowstone Park Forests

I, 2, Western Tanager (female, male) ; 3, 4, Rocky Moun-
tain Pine Grosbeak (female, male); 5, Rocky Mountain
Jay; 6, 7, Williamson Sapsucker (male, female) ; 8, Rocky
Mountain Nuthatch; q. Mountain Chickadee; 10, Nut-
cracker. Drawing by Edmtuid J. Sawyer Facing 11

Plate 2. Birds of Yellowstone Lake

1, Canada Goose; 2, Osprey ; 3, Bald Eagle; 4, 5, White
Pelican; 6, Caspian Tern; 7, 8, Mallard (female, male);
9, 10, Green-winged Teal (male, female). Drawing by
Edmund J. Sawyer Facing 60

Plate 3. Birds of the Open Country

I, Western Vesper Sparrow; 2, Western Meadowlark; 3, 4,
Mountain Bluebird (male, female) ; 5, Western Rfd-tailed
Hawk; 6, 7, Sparrow Hawk (male, female) ; 8, o. Brewer
Blackbird (male, female); 10, Richardson Grouse; 11,
Desert Horned Lark. Drawing by Edmund J. Sawyer.

Facing no

Plate 4. Birds of the Wooded Streams

I, Gray RufYed Grouse ; 2, 3, Pink-sided Junco (male, fe-
male) ; 4, 5, Audubon Warbler (female, male) ; 6, Town-
send Solitaire ; 7, Audubon Hermit Thrush ; 8, Water
Ouzel. Drawing by Edmund J. Sawyer Facing 130

FIGURES

The figures are from photographs by the author except where otherwise
stated.

Figure i. The home of the Osprey, "Eagle Nest Rock", beside the Gar-
diner River and near the North Entrance to the Park. An
adaptation to the Yellowstone environment, for the usual
nesting site is the top of a tree 17

F"igure 2. Nest of a Water Ouzel or Dipper on the lower side of a
boulder in midstream. Almost always the opening is over
the water on the downstream side. In this case grass soon
sprouted on the nest and helped to conceal it 18

Figure 3. This grassy meadow spangled with beautiful iris, beside the
Gardiner River, uikKt the cliffs of Mount Evarts, is a favor-
ite haunt of the Meadowlark 23

Figure 4. The MouiUain Chickadee can be readily distinguished from
other chickadees by the white bar above each eye. Photo by
E. R. Warren 24

17]

8 Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

PAGE

Figure 5. Mountain BIuel)irds nesting in the siding of a Iiuilding. In
the Park they sometimes nest under the eaves of log cabins.
Photo by R. B. Rockwell 29

Figure 6. The Western Robins build the same kind of nests on the same
kind of sites as the eastern robins ; in this case, under the
edge of a thatched roof. Photo by R. B. Rockwell 29

Figure 7. The Clark Crow, or Nutcracker, shows its characteristic bold
disposition in most of its attitudes. It is conspicuous in color
and in its habit of perching on the most commanding points. 30

Figure 8. Nutcrackers arc given to foraging aI)out the kitchen doors at
Mammoth Hot Springs, especial!}' in severe winter weather.
In this instance one bird is tearing a piece of raw meat from
a bone while the other two await their chance 30

Figure f). A nest of the White-crowned Sparrow. These nests are the
most frequent of all, especially in brushy parks and mead-
ows. Photo In- E. R. Warren 37

Figure 10. A Broad-tailed Hummingbird on its tiny nest in a rose bush.

Most of these birds breed at much higher altitudes, l)ut
occasionally a pair prefer the rose bush zone at about 6000
feet. Photo by R. B. Rockwell 37

Figure II. Here the Western Mourning Doves construct rather flimsy
nests, just like other doves elsewhere. Photo by R. B. Rock-
well ' 3S

Figure 12. The Killdccr is alwa\s a conspicuous feature of its chosen
home, especially because of its piercing cry, uttered almost
incessantly. Photo by R. B. Rockwell 38

Figure 13. The Rocky Mountain Screech Owl is rather scarce in the
Park. It verv much resembles its cousins elsew'here. Photo
by R. B. Rockwell 4-(

Figure 14. A young Western Horned Owl. Fortunately for the young
grouse and ducks these owls arc not numerous in the Yellow-
stone Park. Photo by R. B. Rockwell 44

Figure 15. A Great Blue Heron. Wherever met with this bird is a pic-
turesque addition to the scener>-, although its long, dagger
bill is deadly to small fishes and frogs. Photo by R. B. Rock-
well 50

Figure 16. A Red-shafted Flicker and its >oung. While this flicker will
frequently cross with the Yellow-shafted or Northern
Flicker — hybrids being seen in the Park — a typical North-
ern Flicker has not yet been reported. Photo b\' R. B. Rock-
well ." 53

Figure 17. When a family of Red-shafted Flickers is encountered, the
birds arc often as thickly clustered as this picture shows
them. Photo by Frank N. Irving 54

Figure iS. The Western Nighthawk nests on the geyserite formations
near the celebrated geysers, laying her two eggs on the bare
rock. Photo by E. R. W'arren 58

Figure 19. The Osprey nest near the Park highway between Gardiner and
Mammoth Hot Springs. The nests are conspicuous, as they
are perched on rock pinnacles or on the tops of trees. In the
Yellowstone the Ospreys ha\ e I)cen miscalled Eagles. Photo
by Haynes 65

FigiTre 20. In some localities in the Park the Clit? Swallows stick their
mud retort-shaped nests against a cliff or under a ledge like
their ancestors. More up-to-date birds nest under the eaves
o[ bpildings. Photo by E. R. Warren 69

Birds of the Yelloivstoiie Park

0

l'"iglirc2I. 'I'ln' l\(>i-l<\ Mdimlain or "('am|) KulilHr" is lamiliar to

liiiiulii'ds oi loiirisls wilh whom he makes friends at their

various camping places. Photo by R. B. Rockwell 70

Figure 22. A friendly Rocky Mountain Jay. A few crumbs scattered on
the ground near a camp will usually attract these birds within
range of the camera. Photo by E. R. Warren 70

Figure 23. Young Magpies. The Yellowstone Park lies at too high an
elevation to harbor many Magpie nests, but occasionally one
is found in the top of a thick chunp of willow bushes. Photo
by Albert Haansted 77

Figure 24. Sometimes a very tame but alert Richardson Grouse is seen

in the grass as one's automobile passes within a few feet... 77

Figure 25. The male Williamson Sapsucker, one of the handsomest and
most conspicuous birds of the Yellowstone forests. It is
most freciuently found in the aspen and Douglas fir groves.
Photo by Clark Blickensdurfer 78

Figure 26. A female Williamson Sapsucker. When first discovered, the
female was described as a separate species, its brown, barred
plumage being so very different from that of the male. Photo
by R. B. Rockwell 78

Figure 27. The Warljling Vireo, while not very common in Yellowstone
Park, is a pleasing and conspicuous singer in early summer
about Camp Roosevelt and Tower Fall 91

l-igiue 28. A nest of the California Gull, with young in the down, on
Molly Island in Yellowstone Lake. This shows a typical
nesting site on the low, stony shores 91

Figure 29. A California Gull. Gulls with snow-white under parts and
black-tipped wings are a frequent sight, always reminiscent
of the ocean a thousand miles from Yellowstone Park.
Photo by California Academy of Sciences 92

I'igure 30, The young California Gulls, in mottled, juvenile plumage, are
able to forage for themselves before August 15. Photo by
California Academy of Sciences 92

Figure 31. Young White Pelicans. When the young on Molly Island
are disturbed before they can fly, they enter the water and
try to escape by swimming 95

l-igure 32. Wilson Phalarope on nest. Although the female lays the eggs,
the male of this species, contrary to usual bird custom, does
the brooding and lakes care of the young, i'holo by R. B.
Rockwell 96

Figure 33, Canada Geese, contrary to popular belief, are among the wisest
and most iiUertsting of birds. In the Yellowstone they are
common and fjuite fearless. Photo by Milton J. Ray 96

Figure 34. Nest of Canada Goose on a beaver lodge, in a pond at Yan-
ceys. Here, where predatory animals are rather numerous,
the geese always select some small elevation surrounded by
water. Occupied or abandoned beaver houses are favorite
nesting sites 100

Figure 35. The Western House Wren. These birds are not mmierous in
Yellowstone Park, and while occasionally seen, are more
often heard. Photo by R. B. Rockwell 105

F'igure 36. Although the nesting cavities of the Mountain Chickadee are
to be found usually in dead trunks or limbs at a considerable
height, they are sometimes quite low, or even in stumps.
Photo by R. B. Rockwell 105

10 Roosevelt IVild Life Bulletin

PAGE

Figure 37. A Rocky Mountain Nulhalch at its lust in a ircc cavity. The
nuthatch nests appear fo l)e placed lower, as a rule, than
those of the Mountain Chickadee. Photo by F. C. Willard.. 106

Figure 38. The Sparrow Hawks are small and handsomely mottled. They
commonly select conspicuous perches along the roads, and as
they are not molested in the Park, soon become very bold.

Photo by R. B. Rockwell IIS

Figure 30. A juvenile Western Horned Owl. This owl nests so early in
the year that the eggs are sometimes frozen during a tempo-
rary absence of the brooding parent. Photo by R. E. Rock-
well 115

Figure 40. Nest, eggs and young of an American Coot. The fuzzy, black
youngsters do not usually number more than three to the
brood, although there may be as many as six eggs. Photo

by R. B. Rockwell 123

Figure 41. Mallard drakes preening on a small mud island in a beaver
pond near Lava Creek. For years the Mallards have nested

in this beaver pond beside the Park highway 123

Figure 42. The iloating nest and eggs of the American Eared Grebe. This
is the only grebe at all common in Yellowstone Park, and
the only one found nesting there as yet. Photo by R. B.

Rockwell 124

Figure 43. The Green-winged Teal. This beautifulK- mottled bird is the
smallest of the ducks found in the Park. Photo by R. B.

Rockwell 124

Figure 44. Young White Pelicans near Molly Island, Yellowstone Lake.

A pelican colony requires for its nesting site a remote island

near a good supply of fish 137

Figure 45. California Gulls attempting to rob the nests of the White Peli-
cans on Molly Island, Yellowstone Lake. Photo by George

Shiras, 3rd . '. ' 138

Figure 46. White Pelicans, mostly adults, on Molly Island. The nests
are constructed on the ground among the stumps and bould-
ers at the right. Photo by George Shiras, 3rd 145

Figure 47. Close-up view of White Pelicans on Molly Island. The young
birds are not able to fly for several months, but they are
excellent swimmers. Photo by George Shiras, 3rd 146

MAPS

Map I. Yellowstone National Park, showing the highways and the
localities mentioned in "The Birds of the Yellowstone
National Park" Facing 183

Map 2. The major faunal areas or "life zones" of Yellowstone

National Park" Facing 183

Diiiliit iy Edmund J. S,ii:;ifr

Plate 1. Birds of the kllowstone Park. Forests

1, 2: Western Tanag-er (female, malel. 6, 7 : Williamson Sapsucker{inale, female).

3, 4: Rockv Mountain Pine Grosbeak 8 : Rocky Mountain Nuthatch,

(female, male). 9: Mountain Chickadee.

5: Rocky Mountain Jay. 1 0 : Clark Nutcracker.

(All figure }^ life si/e")

THE BIRDS OF THE YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL

PARK

By Milton P. Skinner

Roosevelt Field Naturalist, Roosevelt IVild Life Forest Experimeni
Station, Syracuse, New York
Formerly Park Naturalist, Yellowstone National Park

CONTENTS

PAOE

1. Introduction 12

2. Getting .\cquainted with the Park Birds 13

3. The Bird Life at Mammoth Hot Springs 22

4. Birds from Mammoth Hot Springs to the Madison River. 34

5. Birds from W est Yellowstone. Montana, to ( )ld Faithful

Inn 47

6. Birds from Old Faithful to Yellowstone Lake and the

Grand Canyon 59

7. Birds from Grand Canyon to Mammoth Hot Springs, by

W ay of Tower Fall 71

8. The Birds of Mount Washburn 75

9. Influence of Warm Springs and Gas \'ents on Birds. . . . 85

10. The Birds of Yellowstone Lake 93

11. The Birds of the Forests 102

12. The Birds of the Open Country and Its .Small Ponds.. iio

13. The Birds of the Brooks and Rivers 118

14. The Birds of Beaver IMeadows 127

15. The White Pelicans of Yellowstone Lake 133

iT). The Mallard in Yellowstone Park Waters I-I4

17. The Trumpeter Swan in the Yellowstone Park 153

18. Notes for Field Identification of the Birds 155

19. List of Birds of the Yellowstone National Park 170

20. Acknowledgments 176

21. List of References 177

22. Index 183

INTRODUCTION

I am giving an account of a typical bird trip through the
Yellowstone Park. Starting from Gardiner, the Northern Entrance
to the Park, we go to Mammoth Hot Springs ; thence to Madison
Junction and the West Yellowstone Entrance ; thence back to Old
Faithful in the Upper Geyser Basin ; thence to Yellowstone Lake
and the Grand Canyon, returning over Mt. Washburn to Mammoth
Hot Springs. As the Southern and Eastern Entrances present no
unusual features in their bird life, I have not mentioned them
especially. This gives the Park visitor a sketch of the bird life of
the region that should be helpful on even the most hurried tour.

The chapters following give additional information about the
characteristic haunts of the birds in the Park and the conditions
under which they must live, including such representative localities
as those about the hot springs and the gas vents, Yellowstone Lake,
the forests, the open prairie country, along the brooks and rivers,
and in the beaver meadows. I have also added an account of the
White Pelicans at Yellowstone Lake and of the Mallards and
Trumpeter Swans in the Park waters. This brief guide concludes
with the suggestions for the identification of these various birds.

It will be found helpful to consult the two sketch maps at the
end of the book as one peruses the text. Map i indicates the
itinerary of the regular Park tourist and locates all of the principal
points mentioned. Map 2 is intended to show graphically the rela-
tive areas at different elevations, to be correlated with the discussion
of habitats of the various species of Yellowstone birds.

The authority for the scientific names of birds mentioned in this
paper is the "A. O. U. Check-List of North American Birds," 1910,
with revisions through 1923.

I 1^1

Birds of llic Yc}lmvsio)ic Park

13

GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE PARK BIRDS

The inducements to study the i^irds of the Yellowstone are many.
Here is a carefully protected tract of over three thousand square
miles, well watered by many swift streams and several large lakes,
with a surface well diversified into open range, meadows and forests,
all at an elevation ranging from 5300 feet above sea level to well
o\er 11,000 feet. With such varied conditions, the birds should
well repay a careful study, especially as the Park is seen to be the
borderland of the range of many species. The great elevation is
favorable for a number of hardy alpine species; the open areas
are suitable for those of the high plains; and the varied forest con-
ditions are congenial for many others. Furthermore, the region
can be easily reached, and transportation is readily secured to the
various points of interest within the Park. There are good hotels
at convenient intervals, and if hotel life palls, there are the perma-
nent camps ; or one can be still more independent and take his own
camping outfit. And then there are the beautiful scenery and many
wonders of nature to be enjoyed, should the birds cease to be of
interest or fail to appear so as to fit one's schedule. The birds of
the region had never been closely studied, although a few ornitholo-
gists had visited the Park and hastily noted the birds as they
passed along. It was practically an unknown territory awaiting
exploration by some bird enthusiast, and with a pioneer's joy I
accepted the challenge.

The middle of June found me descending from the train at Gardi-
ner, with expectations well whetted; for, from the train, I had
already seen several strange birds, while many others looked famil-
iar and yet were surely not those of my eastern home.

Stopping at the ranger station at the entrance and explaining my
purpose, I readily obtained permission to walk to Mammoth Hot
Springs, the headcjuarters of the Park. The keen, invigorating
breeze sweeping down from the mountains was an irresistible call
for me to begin w'ork.

Just inside the boundar}- of the Park was an alfalfa field where
the antelope range in winter, but across its dark green face were
now darting the many graceful forms of old and familiar friends,
the Cliflf Swallows, with their pale rufous rump patches, — just as
much at home amongst these magnificent mountains as over any

14

Roosevelt ]\'Ud Life Bulletin

eastern barnyard. But a moment later a stranger appeared; a Tree
Swallow, pure white below and glancing blue and green above; not
a rare bird in the eastern states, but far from as abundant as here
in the veiy center of its range. Two or three Bluebirds perched on
the telephone wire, their blue throats and breasts proving them to
be the Mountain Bluebird. As I looked out across the field, a move-
ment in the grass caught my eye, and after a few minutes out
stepped a Meadowlark. I thought I had found another old friend ;
but a second glance showed his upper plumage to be of an unfamil-
iar tone. When the bird flew to the top of a telephone pole and
began to sing, I was astonished and thrilled ! 1 his rapid outpour-
ing was not the song of our eastern Meadowlark, but far richer,
more melodious, flute-like, and varied. It was, in fact, the Western
IMeadowlark, a quite different species. On another pole was a
familiar-looking bird, but having just had an object lesson on the
difference between eastern and western forms, I was now more
cautious. The bird looked like one I knew and had a well remem-
bered pose. Just then an insect passed and out he dashed with
characteristic hovering flight that showed the white terminal tail
band, identifying the Kingbird — a species as much at home here
by this irrigated field as in an eastern apple orchard ! His nest, as
it proved, was in the brush bordering the irrigation ditch. Near it,
on the ground, was a nest of grass containing seven gray-blue egg.-,
blotched with brown and lavender, belonging to a pair of Brewer
Blackbirds. A bird with conspicuous yellow eyes, and walking
about on the ground like a grackle, it is not strange that a male
Brewer Blackbird is a bit difficult to name.

Another dweller by the ditch was a Song Sparrow, very similar
to the eastern bird, and having the same sweet, cheerful song.
During the latter part of March these tuneful little fellows arrive,
bringing, amid the snows, the assurance that summer is coming.
The Song Sparrow is well named and is among the singers who
seem to most heartily enjoy their own songs; he does not rtm up
and down or twitch himself about, but sits quite still and gives
himself up entirely to the business in hand. He usually picks out
for his perch a limb more or less bare of leaves and from ten to
fifteen feet from the ground; he does not go higher, for his nest
is either on the ground or at least very near it and his voice is not
strong enough to carry far. He throws his head back, puffs out
his little speckled breast, and pours forth his happy song. He does
not greatly care whether the weather is clear or not, although he
does like to have it warm. His song is one of the very first to be

Birds of flic YcUozi'stouc I'ark

15

heard in the sprinj;- and he keeps singin<;- until tlie \ery last of July,
when most of the other songsters have become silent. And now 1
felt that my fascinating work in this strange locality had begun;
for I had seen and heard the particular sub-species of Song Sparrow
that lives here! The bird itself is such a whole-souled little mite
and puts such vim into his singing that it is hard to resist such
winsomeness.

Going on up the road I discovered many strange birds and a few
familiar ones. A Crow flew over, calling "caw, caw," and seemed
curiously tame; a few minutes later another one came still closer,
but this one gave a hoarse croak, seemed much larger than the first,
and often extended his wings for a short glide like a hawk! It was,
in fact, a Raven, a species that proved to be much more common
among the mountains than the smaller Crow. A few Western
Robins were running over a little meadow beside the road, and on
the top of a dead pole of a tree was a Desert Sparrow Hawk watch-
ing the ground beneath for a possible grasshopper. After having
been so nearly deceived on the Brewer Blackbird, I was a little
cautious about naming the next birds I found, but they were really
Red-winged Blackbirds, so nearly like our eastern bird of the
marshes that only a pair of calipers could measure the difference.
More Bluebirds, Robins, and Meadowlarks were seen, and just
before entering the Gardiner canyon, a large gray bird flapped
slowly across the river. I noted the heavy, crow-like flight and the
flash of black and white from wings and tail characteristic of the
Clark Nutcracker, a bird I had never seen before but with which
I was soon to become well acquainted.

At the entrance to the canyon, one of the greatest curiosities
among our mountain birds came flying downstream, and skimminf;
close to the rapids tried to alight on a slippery rock, slid off into
the water, unconcernedly swam ashore, and climbed briskly out.
It was a small bird, almost black, carrying its tail perked up like a
Wren. Indeed, the whole bird suggested a Wren. Although its
feet were of the usual perching bird type it had just paddled across
the pool, and a moment later it walked calmly down the stone into
the next pool below. To my greater astonishment, this wonderful
little bird not only walked into the water but continued right on
down under the surface and across the pool bottom, and as it went,
stopped an instant here and a moment there ! Then it shot up to
the surface with the buoyancy of a cork and swam to a nearby
stone, up which it walked, shook itself, courtesied once or twice,
and then proceeded to do the trick all over again. It was a Dipper,

i6

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

or Water Ouzel, a ])erching bird like a thrush and a fine singer
withal, althouf^h gathering its insect food from the bottom of a
brook or ri\er.

While I was meditating on the adjustments in nature that always
provide for a bird a situation where food is to be had, a Kingfisher
flew upstream uttering his rattling call. Just then another "familiar
stranger" arri\ed; that is, he dropped onto a fir limb near the road
in woodpecker fashion. The general coloration of a Flicker was
apparent at a glance; but when he flew to his nest there was a flash
of red instead of the yellow on the eastern bird. The nest in an
ujjright dead limb of a fir on the bank of the river proved to be a
characteristic Flicker nest, while the seven white eggs that it con-
tained were e\idently Micker eggs. So this then was our Red-
shafted Flicker of the West.

On nearing a small group of cottonwoods beside the river, to my
delight I heard many warblers calling and singing. A familiar
"wee, chee, chee, chee" was followed by a flash of yellow from the
tree-tops, and down came a Yellow \\'arbler. It was pleasant to
find this old-time friend; indeed, this little warbler comes very close
to living in all parts of North America without having developed
those minute differences that cause the naturalists to split up Song
Sparrows into so many sub-species. Just then a "wreechity, wree-
chity, wreechity" came floating down the canyon and a few moments
later this singer, a Western Yellow-throat, flew out from a limb in
])ursuit of a nimble insect. Many other birds, such as Robins,
dickers. Chipping Sparrows, Bluebirds, and Song Sparrows were
seen and heard about this charming spot, where the bird songs made
a medley with the murmur of the river that swept beneath the trees.
A Western Tanager, with his head and neck as red as if he had
inadvertently thnrst them into a paint pot, darted across in a peculiar
corkscrew flight that proved the fly he was after to be a past master
in the art of dodging. But a past grand master was in pursuit and
the fly soon went the way of many others before him. Idly watch-
ing the performance I wondered if the Tanager ever tired of his
self-imposed task of fly catching, and, considering his gormandiz-
ing, if he ever had indigestion! Surely so active a bird, feeding on
such small insect prey, must consume a vast number daily. As if
to lend point to my musings, a flock of Tree Swallows appeared,
flying down the canyon and back again, snapping up insects as they
passed. Suddenly one of the flock that was flying low, so turned
in his flight as to disclose a bottle-green back with touches of pur-
plish iridescence. Never before had I seen his like, but later, upon

Birds of llic Ycllowslouc Park

19

looking into the matter, I found tliat lie was the Northern \'iolet-
green Swallow. These birds were afterwards found to be common
and almost always in company with the Tree Swallows.

As I walked on up the road under the walls of the canyon, I
searched for Eagle Nest Rock, so well advertised in the Park guide-
books (figs. I, 19). Soon I crossed a bridge, and there it loomed
immediately above me, high up on the left, with one bird perching on
it and the other hovering higher up, yet not as high as the canyon
rim. But instead of being Eagles, the birds were Ospreys, much com-
moner birds but none the less graceful and interesting on that
account. IMost well informed persons would agree in thinking the
Osjirey a nobler bird than the liald Eagle, robber and carrion eater
that he is. Before seeing the nest, I had hoped it might i)rove to
be that of the true hunter, the ("lolden Eagle, but soon realized that
the location was far too exposed for that denizen of the wilderness.

Fortunately, in watching the graceful evolutions of the Ospreys.
the possibilities of the lower plane (the roadway and the stream)
were not overlooked, — I was dimly conscious of seeing a Dipper fly
swiftly over the water and disappear! Eorgetting the Ospreys, I
scanned the water in bewilderment. No bird was on it or along the
shores. But when I was about to give up hunting, the bird came
out from a little patch of green moss and grass on a rock in mid-
stream (fig. 2). An examination revealed a domed nest of moss,
about nine inches across, with the nest proper inside on a little shelf;
the roofed entrance was hcloxv the level of the inner nest. The
house was cemented into a slight hollow in the rock with mud, a
little of which was also used on the inside walls of the nest ball.
While the outer nest was of soft, moist moss, the inner was woven
of a coarse, dry, wiry grass and contained four white eggs. The
opening was downstream and only two feet above the swiftl\- rush-
ing water. As the ball of moss was fresh and green, and a few
grass seeds on top had sprouted and were growing luxuriantly, it
was evident that the spray from the water helped the color conceal-
ment. Other Dipper nests were found later and all were similar,
although one was actually placed in the edge of the s]iray from a
waterfall, and another under an overhanging bank. In every case
the opening to these retort-.shaped nests was below the rim of the
nest proper and the nest was on the downstream side of the support.

About three miles from Gardiner and just before passing the
hotel company's market garden — which, by the way, is located at
the highest spot in the Park where vegetables will grow — a familiar
"me-ow, me-ow" sounded from the dense willow thicket between

20

RonscvcU JVild Life Bulletin

the road and tlie river. Sure enoujjh, a Catbird, and nearby was
tlie nest, a bulky mass of twigs and grasses, with a few leaves
inside. As yet there were only three rich greenish blue eggs, but
as the date was early, possibly another egg or two were added later.
It was a rare find for the mountains ; for this spot, fifty-six hundred
feet elevation, and Mammoth, seven hundred feet higher, are its
only known Park habitats, and this nest the only one I have ever
definitely located there. As I emerged frf)ni the bushes, I noted a
Spotted Sandpiper flying upstream, where it alighted, bobbing from
a stone as if to i)rove its common name of "Tip-up." Along the
road several Song Sparrows were singing their songs of welcome,
each one perched on the very tip of a willow twig with his spotted
breast turned toward the sun. A Kingfisher sitting on the rail of
a foot-bridge, made a sudden dive into the water and returned with
a two-inch trout held crosswise in his bill. A sudden jerk turned
the fish around so that its head pointed down the gaping throat,
the first gulji started it down, the second gulp swallowed it, and
the third carried it to its proper compartment. From the bridge an
Osprey was seen flying down the river, stopping now and then to
hover and circle and then pass on.

At this point the road left the Gardiner River and commenced
to climb up towards Mammoth Hot Springs. The country became
noticeably drier, with sagebrush covering the rolling hills and other
bushes growing in the moister gullies. A small blue bird, suggesti\ e
of an Indigo-bird, alighted on a sagebush ; but when it turned, dis-
closing a brown chest band between the blue of the neck and the
white of the belly, I recognized it as the dainty Lazuli Bunting!
While quite common on the plains below, this is as far as it ever
\entures into the mountains.

Halfway up to Mammoth, near a spring where a Yellow-throat
or two were seen, my ear cauglit a song so surpassingly lovely as to
command instant attention and search. It was melodious and very
expressive, and the bird certainly had a wonderful vocal control
to give all those delightful little trills and variations, each more
beautiful than the last. A rather small bird he proved to be, with
erect chestnut crest and gray-green back, sitting a-top of a sage
bush and giving all attention to his singing, no doubt for the benefit
of a demure little wife on her nest on the ground nearby. It was
the Green-tailed Towhee. I was nearly misled by the name, for I
had read much about this bird and its song, and was looking for a
dull-colored bird with a bright green tail. The tail is green, to be

Birds of ilic YcUoivstone Park

21

sure, iiiiich less conspicuous than the beautiful chestnut crest.
Not only was I pleased w ith this sweetest of all Yellow stone singers
but I found him so delightfully tame as to admit of very close obser-
vation — one happy result of the "Rules and Regulations" that
protect all wild life within the Park limits.

Having just enjoyed the strains of this mountain songster, I was
treated next to the music of the master singer of the plains and
meadows, the \\'estern ^^leadowlark, which is more plentiful here
than in any other place along the Park's tourist route. I now had
the opportunity to compare the song of this westerner with that
from the East; and what a difference! That of the western bird
is remarkably line, less shrill, more plaintive, and richer. This
seemed to be exactly counter to the usual order of things, for it
more frecjuently appears as if the eastern birds excel in song.
Perhaps it happens that in the strenuous life of the West the birds
do not find time to develop the singing powers of the easterners !
This assumption may well be questioned, for we need not apply our
human reactions to wild birds; but it was true, nevertheless, that I
had formed little idea of the surpassing beauty and charming variety
of the Western INIeadowlark's song. On a number of occasions I
have heard five and even six different tunes following one after
the other.

The Meadowlarks, as I discovered when revisiting this avian
concert hall in the early morning — the time to hear birds at their
best — had made their nests amid the tufts of long grass. Several
pairs of birds were present, and their nests, well separated, were
scattered over a tract several acres in extent. The nests were con-
structed of coarse, wiry grasses and lined with finer and softer mate-
rial of various kinds, and were placed on the ground in a position
where it was possible to have a hidden, winding path leading away
under the arched grasses. Usually a nest contained four white eggs,
dotted with reddish-brown, and some sets were almost ready to hatch.
It was a matter for surprise to find that while spring came late in the
mountains and frosty nights were frequent through May, June, and
even July, still, the majority of the birds nested as early and rai.sed
their young as soon as they would under what we might consider
far more favorable conditions. Possibly the secret lies in the fact
that where the summer season is so short, the insect life is more
hardy and reaches the zenith of its abundance at an earlier period.
Be that as it may, it is often amazing to see the quantity of insect
life to be found in Yellowstone Park even before the last snows of

22

Roosevelt Wild Life Bnllctm

spiin<( ha\e disappeared. Indeed, these disappearing snowbanks
provide a veritable feast for the passing birds ; insects chilled and
held In- the snow, warmed to life in the midday sun. Xor are the
birds and insects alone in their early development, for the meadows
through May and June are spangled with many beautiful flowers,
cinquefoil and iris (fig. 3) and shooting star, even when there was
a heavy frost every night. The blooms of the mountain plants are
so well inured to the cold that the morning sun is able to thaw out,
unharmed, the blossoms that had been stiff with frost at dawn.

After my first visit to the IMeadowlarks' nesting ground, and
following up the road, a Raven and then a couple of Crows passed,
the former being distinguished by its short stretches of soaring at
intervals. Covering the slope of the last hill below Mammoth is
a growth of limber pine mixed with cedar. Occasionally a Flicker
or a Nutcracker (fig. 7) was seen in this grove. Beyond it a
brilliant \\'estem Tanager flitted by near the hospital; and just as
I reached the bench on which the village at Mammoth is situated,
a Yellow \\'arbler flew up into one of the shade trees.

THE BIRD LIFE AT MAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS

I had been told that there were few birds in the Yellowstone,
but as I soon discovered, the visitors were too much interested in
the larger wonders to pay much attention to the birds. Then, too,
they looked for them in the heavy timber which birds avoid, instead
of about the numerous openings, in the meadows, and along the
streams, all of which they frequent in numbers.

My first afternoon at Mammoth was given ui) to the examination
of the hot springs and variegated terraces that makes this one of
the show ])laces of the Park. TUit even while making my "tour"
of the Hot Si)rings terraces with a crowd of visitors, T was aware
of the presence of many birds. Occasionally a shadow would drift
across the formation and a Ked-tail Hawk or a Swainson Hawk
would be seen circling high overhead. Again and again a chirp
in the evergreens beside me or a flutter of wings through the trees
lured me away from the party. Once I found a splash of blood
and a little wad of hair beside it, and shortly afterwards a Great
Horned Owl disappeared on noiseless wings into the dark screen
of trees. At one point, a member of the party discovered a large
bluish bird walking sedately up the hillside (see fig. 24). The
guide was appealed to, and his group seemed very interested to

24

Roosevelt Wild Life BnUethi

Photo hy E. R. VTanen

Fig. 4. The Moiinlaiii Chiikadee can l)e readily distinguished from other
chickadees by tlie wliite bar above each eye.

Birds of the Ycllozvsfoiie Park

25

hear: "It is a grouse that hves in the forests of western America.
The varying cHmate that it inhabits has led to certain variations
in its color so that four geographical varieties are recognized. The
Dusky Grouse is the southern variety and is found throughout the
southern Rocky ^Mountains. The Richardson Grouse is the northern
variety, extending \vell up into the Canadian provinces. The
Pacific coast has a third form, the Sooty Grouse; and the interior
of Oregon and California the fourth, the Sierra Grouse. The four
different forms can be readily recognized only by the scientists
Here we are in the borderland between the southern and the north-
ern forms and this particular bird shows the characteristic marks
of both. It might be called either a Dusky or a Richardson Grouse,
but it has been decided that the grou.se here shall be considered the
Richardson."

The evergreens scattered over the formation and up the hillside
to the west were filled at times with the Mountain Chickadees
(fig. 4) — dainty little fellows that have all the fascinating and
confiding ways of the other members of the family. The song was
somewhat different, "phee, phe-e-e, phe, phe," with the second note
accented and slightly prolonged, and the whole having a dreamy
and rather sorrowful tone. Once in a while a Rocky ]\Iountain
Nuthatch or a Rocky jMountain Creeper was with the Chickadees.
Peculiar chirps and calls from the hillside beneath a big red fir
led me to discover a small flock of Pink-sided Juncos busily gather-
ing ants from the ground. As I was returning to the hotel a Spar-
row Hawk darted out of the evergreens with a Robin in hot pursuit,
a case of the hunter being hunted, ^^'hat could have roused the
Robin to such a fury? The hawk possibly had lost the usual good
manners of his species and taken to nest-robbing !

The Mammoth Hotel proved to be delightfully located for bird
study. At Gardiner and the North Entrance the elevation is 5300
feet ; here it is 6300 feet, and in less than five miles farther up the
road, at Swan Lake flats, it reaches 7300 feet, while the Bunsen
Peak road is a few hundred feet higher. Within a five-mile circle,
and hence within easy walking distance, rises Sepulcher Mountain
to a height of 9500 feet. Then too, the Mammoth Springs lie on
the borderland between the open country and the heavy forests,
and mixed in the white pine and cedar belts there are numerous
groves of cjuaking aspen. Hence the birds peculiar to each of
these habitats were easily found from this center ; indeed, I dis-
covered no other segtion that could boast of so many species within

26

Roosczrlf Wild Jjfe Bulletin

a limilcd area. To l)e stirc, the water l)ir(ls common to Yellowstone
Lake were not here nor was there the great ahimdance of indi-
viduals often seen in the Madison valley. Mammoth is further
blessed hy having its best bird areas so easil}' accessible that a few
minutes' walk suflices to reach some fine haunt. Many of the birds
that seek the i)rotecting neighborhood of man for their nests were
here, as the P)luebirds, Robins, Swallows, Blackbirds, and that
dainty little elf of the uKnintains, the White-crowned Sparrow. In
additi(jn, the formations and the marshy tracts below afforded nest-
ing sites for the Killdeers and the Spotted Sandpipers. The
marshes, especially the reedy ones bordered by f|uaking aspens, were
also a paradise for warblers. Frf)m the Hot Springs an old road,
used as a trail, led up through .Snow Pass and the fir and aspen
forests where the beautiful \\ illiamson Sapsuckers had their nests.

Iwen before reaching Mammoth 1 had seen many of the pretty
Mountain Bluebirds. I'nlike the eastern Bluebird, I found the
male pale blue w ith a curious greenish cast and lacking entirely the
chestnut vest (pi. 3). P)Ul in all his habits he was an exact replica
of the eastern species ; song, food, and nest were all similar,
although the eggs were a trifle larger. But the Yellowstone bird
was not quite so "humanized" as the Massachusetts one. Presum-
ably when the western states have been settled as long as the
Atlantic seaboard, the Mountain Bluebird will adopt the ways of
his doorj-ard relative and forsake his wilderness manners. It was
observed that the Mountain Bluebirds were more apt to select a
cavity in a tree for their nests; but like all bluebirds their bills are
too weak to excavate holes for themselves, so they are forced to
ajijiropriate old woodpecker or Tree Swallow nests found most com-
monly drilled in the trunks of small quaking aspens.

But although the edge of the forest is the natural home of this
mountaineer, there was generally a Bluebird nest or two somewhere
about each hotel or permanent camp (see fig. 5). One pair built
in a false rafter of the porch at Mammoth Hotel, and although
within a few feet of the tourists getting in and out of the auto-
stages, a brood of four was raised. It was a pretty sight to watch
the parents catch insects for their brood ; the wide, open lawn dotted
here and there with cedars was their hunting preserve; and they
were always busily at work in the clear, crisp mountain air of the
early mornings swooping down upon the caterpillars and grass-
hoppers. Both parents fed the young, and when I timed them, I
found that food was brought to the nest about every four minutes.

Birds of till' )'cll(m'sfoiic Park

27

To accomplish this thev had to lly two or tlirec liundred yards, catcli
the prey, return to the nest, and it to the always hungry

youngsters. To save time and trouhle they often hrought in two
or more bugs at a trip. Inasmuch as tlie diet consists mainly of
injurious insects, it was easy to imagine the appreciable value of a
pair of such birds on the premises of a rancher.

These lawns were shared with the Robins, known scientilically as
Western Robins, although it is practically im]K)ssible to tell the two
forms apart, llieir calls and songs all sound the same and their
habits are the same, but the Robins are like the I'luebirds in not
being as thoroughly domesticated as their eastern relatives and are
often found far from civilization. They made their nests in the
shade about Mammoth and their "cheerily, cheerily, cheer-up" was
frequently heard of a morning. Old birds and young spent their
time running nimbly over the lawns. Often one had a tug-of-war
with an earthworm that was both opponent and rope; but worms
were not to be found elsewhere in the Park and the Robins had to
depend mostly on insects.

Early in March, when tliis region is still in the grip of winter,
one is often surprised to hear a prophetic Robin or Bluebird singing
as gaily as though summer had already come. Of cour.se, such a
message from these spring heralds is as joyfully received by their
human friends as in other regions, but it sometimes does seem as if
they had been woefully mistaken, for the snow still lies deep and
much cold weather and many storms may yet come ; however, these
birds are true mountaineers and cheerfully face weather that might
easily daunt less venturescjme spirits. While they may often be seen
in spring looking as if they would enjoy a warm tire, it is doubtful
if many are actually hurt. In the fall, liowever, it is a dilYerent
matter, especially if a heavy snowstorm arrives early in the season
before the young birds have all left for their winter homes in New
Mexico and Arizona. In such storms hundreds of R(jbins and
Bluebirds, perhaps enervated by the warm summer weather, perish
miserably, though more from lack of food than from the cold itself.

While the Robins and Bluebirds preempted the lawns as a
foraging ground, the White-crowned .Sparrow, the handsome.st
sparrow of the mountains, was ecpially numerous in the low bushes
and shrubbery at Mammoth. This was the bird heard singing
everywhere in the Park, except in the gloomy pine forests, through-
out June and well on towards the end of July. On my very first
morning, as I stepped out on the porch, I was greeted with a loud

28

Roosevelt JVild Life Biilletm

and very melodious sf)ii<? re])eated by as many as three or four
songsters, tirst from one bit of shruW)ery and then from another,
before a second strain came from tlie leader. While I noted this
sequence of songs from several White- crowns on many diflferent
occasions anrl in many sections of the Park — and it certainly
appeared like a game of "follow your leader" — still, it may have
been that ihe first bird's song merely suggested to the second that
il was time lie, loo, was heard from. Because of his handsome
crown and bearing the musician has well been called "the little
prince with the snow-white diadem," and his song voices the joy
of the home of his princess. In jjassing a roadside bush under
which a mother bird was brooding her eggs, T was fortunate enough
to witness a pretty conjugal episode. The little princess was at
home attending to her duties, and evidently her prince believed in
courtship after marriage as well as before. His crown was held
erect, his tail perked up in the latest fashion in sparrowdom, and
his wings slightly extended and allowed to droop. First up onto
a liandy stone he flitted, to glide softly down again; then up an
inclined branch and down again with movements indescribably
dainty and graceful ; then up again and down once more to his
mate watching demurely from her nest. Finally, unable to contain
himself, the proud little husband bird flew up on a branch where
he poured out his joyous, melodious song again and again.

Another noted bird whose accjuaintance I had made on the way
up to Mammoth, the Clark Crow or Nutcracker, is a striking
fellow dressed in black, white and gray who went flapping through
the evergreens like an undergrown crow. \\ hile shy in places out-
side of the Park, these birds were so tame here that I made a special
study of them, both on my first visit and on subsequent ones (see
Skinner, 'i6). The Nutcracker is sometimes erroneously termed
the "camp robber" because of a rather superficial resemblance to
the more commonly called Camp Robber, the Rocky Mountain Jay
(pi. i). Here in the Yellowstone he is everywhere to be found; but
when seen in the large open prairies and meadows, is only flying
across to the heavy evergreen forests, his characteristic haunt. He
is never met with in the large flocks reported elsewhere, the large.st
that I saw being loosely made up of only twenty-four individuals.
Usually only one or two are seen at a time, or at most a half dozen.
This is not a migratory bird, strictly speaking; in summer he is
to be seen at all elevations from the lowest limits of the Park to
well above timber line at 9500 feet ; and one snowy day numbers

Birds of the Yellozvstonc Park

riioto T)jj R. Tt. ll()( !:in ll

Fig. 5. Mountain BIucl)irds nesting in the siding
of a building. In the Park the}- .sometimes nest
under the eaves of log cabins.

riioto by R. B. Rockwell

Fig. 6. The Western Robins build the same l<ind of nests on
the same kind of sites as the eastern Robins; in this rase,
under the edge of a thatched roof.

30

Roosevelt Jl'ild Life BuUei'in

I'liiitn hi/ M. /'. Skinner

Vi'fi. /. The C'lark ( row, or Xiilcrackcr, sIkjWj ils characleribtic bold dis-
position ill most of its attitudes. It is c(jiispiciioiis in color and in its habit
of perching on the most conimaiidiiig points.

Photo by M. P. Skinner. Conrtesy A. C. McClurg and Co.

Fig. 8. Nutcrackers are given to foraging about the kitchen doors at Mam-
moth Hot Springs, especially in severe winter weather. In this instance
one bird is tearing a piece of raw meat from a bone while the other two
await their chance.

Birds of flic YeUoivstone Park

31

were observed passing the top of Mt. Sheridan in the storm at an
elevation of 10,000 feet. But in winter he Hves mostly below 7000
feet. Mammoth is a center of abundance both in winter and sum-
mer; it was estimated that twenty to thirty birds are constantly in
the neighborhood, but as they are erratic wanderers this number
varies considerably. Probably it was the large supply of pine cones
that brought him here originally, but undoubtedly the discarded
food from the kitchens have kept him, especially in winter.

My observations on the Nutcracker indicated that he ate anything
and everything. He foraged about the stables for grain and came
to the kitchen doors for scraps, especially liking bones with bits of
meat attached (fig. 8) ; while in the mountains he picked off the
cedar berries, tore the seeds out of pine cones, and devoured great
numbers of insects. He was even seen to catch his prey on the
wing, making very flycatcher-like sallies from the tip of a tall pine.
Sometimes he walked over the ground like a crow, searching for
ants and ground insects, and even the troublesome wood ticks ; but
the seeds from the limber pine cones were his favorite food. Some-
times he tore the cone to pieces, even while it was still fastened to
the branch, perching perhaps at the very tip of a bending twig, or
clinging underneath in a manner creditable to a Chickadee or a
Nuthatch. More often, he broke off the cone and carried it to a
limb where he held it by one foot while the pickaxe-like bill struck
strong downward blows. At times he secured a seed at every second
stroke, meanwhile tearing the cone to shreds. Being a bold, inde-
pendent free lance he would \a.Y\ his methods by robbing a pine
squirrel ; even going to the extent of suddenly swooping down upon
him and knocking him from a limb. The squirrels knew him all
too well. It amused me greatly to see a redcoat, whose own abilities
as a robber were not small, glide into a protected nook and hurl
vituperation at his enemy. At such moments the Nutcracker showed
his superior ability in "sassing" back.

Always ready to come at the call of battle, the Nutcracker did
not restrict himself to the troubles of his own species. One day
two Bluebirds had "a little difference," and w'hile they were hard
at it, four Nutcrackers came to investigate, each one trying to mix
in. One of the audience became so excited that in rising from the
ground he struck a wire gate, knocking out several feathers and
partially stunning himself. Nor was his interest confined to his
small neighbors; let a large hawk appear and it was mobbed by all
the Nutcrackers in sight as well as by all others within hearing of

32

Rooscvcll Wild Life nulldiii

tlic first outcry. They usually attacked a hawk from above, striking
it between the shoulders; and generally the hawk tried to escape
by circling up until he forced his tormenters so high that they were
glad to raise the siege and return to earth. Occasionally the hawk
escaped by diving into a thick tree-top where he could turn and
drive ofif his pursuers. The Western Red-tail was frequently
attacked, but the Swainson Hawk proved so inoffensive that the
Nutcracker contented himself with a mild jteck or two in passing.

The Nutcracker combined the peculiar habits of Crow, Jay and
the woodpeckers. He would walk about on the ground like a Crow,
he was always uttering very jay-like screams, and he would hammer
on a limb and even jab his bill into crevices in the bark for insects.
Like the talkative Jay, he was exceedingly quiet during the breeding
season ; that is, quiet for a Nutcracker ; but at all other times the
woods were filled with his harsh, strident, scolding notes. When
he drank, he turned his head sideways and drank through the side
of the bill. Habitually seeking the tip of a tall pine or fir, often
at the very top of a mountain, or searching out some other com-
manding point, where he could survey the country for miles in
every direction, he was always a most conspicuous bird (fig. 7).

The female Nutcracker has her own way of building her nest.
Just think of a bird that builds in February and successfully hatches
her naked young in March long before the snow has left the ground !
Those that I watched were so secretive about their nests that in
flying to them they stopped every fifty feet to survey the ground
before flying the next fifty feet. The nesting site was chosen and
the nest built for winter protection against wind and w^eather. The
thick protecting top of a cedar was selected with a convenient crotch
about twelve feet from the ground and beneath an overarching
canopy of heavy foliage. First a rough platform of twigs was made
from material broken off from a dead cedar by quick, wrenching
jerks of the bill. They were piled in the crotch until the mass was
nine inches in diameter and si.x inches high, forming a good mattress
to keep out the cold from below. The nest proper was built on the
platform, a deep cup with walls an inch thick made of cedar or
pine needles and sujjported on the outside by cedar twigs. The
inside lining was composed of grass stems and shreds of cedar bark,
with the addition of a few horsehairs and bits of string. Four
grayish green eggs with irregular gra}ish brown markings were
laid between the end of February and the middle of March and
brooded for twenty-two days. During this period the sitting bird

Birds of the Yelloivstone Park

33

was subjected to all the vagaries of genuinely wintry weather except
for the protection that the cedar roof above gave her. Often she
sat through a raging snowstorm, and many times I found her on
the nest with the thermometer actually below zero. Under such
conditions she worked herself quietly down deep in the nest with
only her tail and perhaps her bill showing above the rim. While
brooding, she not only permitted me to approach closely but even
to touch her, rather than leave the nest. The young birds were in
the nest four weeks, but by May first were foraging for themselves,
long before most other species had begun to nest at all.

It was not until the middle of July that the nesting season of
the Brewer Blackbirds was so well over that they commenced to
congregate about Mammoth, and then it was the usual thing to see
as many as two hundred of them running about on the lawns and
roads in front of the hotel in the early morning, nodding their heads
at each step, here and there a bird flying a few feet ; but the flock
always moving forward. These gatherings were not peculiar to
Mammoth alone, but were found later at Old Faithful, Lake and
Canyon hotels also. While there were other varieties of blackbirds
in the Park, this was the only one to gather in such large flocks ;
fifty Brewer Blackbirds were seen to every one of the Red-wings
and Yellow-heads.

Several days were spent in the neighborhood of Mammoth Hot
Springs with much pleasure. A WHiite-crowned Sparrow's nest
(see fig. 9) was found with four greenish blue eggs, spotted and
blotched w'ith red-brown, especially about the larger end. The nest
was made of grasses and rootlets and placed on the ground under
a willow bush. Calliope Hummingbirds came among the flowers
about the buildings, and so small were these midgets that it was
often impossible to satisfy one's self that they really were birds.
Cassin Purple Finches gleaned the oats dropped on the roads ; and
the Pine Siskins flashed rapidly by from their feasts of dandelion
seeds. A Pigeon Hawk swept across the lawns one afternoon,
causing a flutter of excitement to run through the flocks of small
birds. Tree Swallows, Northern Violet-green and Clifif Swallows
tirelessly pursued flies and gnats in the evening; sometimes also,
a Pacific Nighthawk or two. In the daytime Yellow Warblers
were scattered through the shrubbery, and Wright Flycatchers,
Olive-sided and Western Flycatchers skillfully caught their priey;
while Marsh Hawks and Red-tail and Swainson Hawks circled and
sailed about, ever watching for ground squirrels and field mic^.

2

34

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

One day I found a F'ileolated Warbler amid the shrubbery, and
spent a half -hour watching this dainty bird with the black cap.
Yellow-throats, Audubon W arblers, and Western Tanagers enliv-
ened the somber firs with their quick movements, flashing colors,
and characteristic calls. But one discordant note was heard — the
too familiar "kis-sick" of the English Sparrow! Only a few of
them, however, have reached the Park, and they keep modestly
about the stables, making no attempt to disturb the native birds.

BIRDS FROM MAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS TO THE
MADISON RIVER

Only the promise of more new birds ahead finally induced me to
start on. To miss nothing by the way, I decided to walk up through
the Golden Gate and Swan Lake Basin to a friendly camp just
beyond. Starting in the early morning, I found the Tree and Cliff
Swallows whirling and circling, and on reaching the reservoir at
the foot of the Hot Springs terraces, was thoroughly waked up
and tuned up for my trip, by discovering a Song Sparrow at the
very tip of a cedar tree with his breast turned towards the rising
sun, singing enthusiastically. A few Brewer Blackbirds were walk-
ing here and there in the road. On the formation just below Jupiter
Terrace, a pair of Killdeers were announcing their presence in long,
querulous cries (see fig. 12). IMany Robins were running through
the shallow water flowing down from the Terrace, catching the
various insects that were breeding there. A flash or two of yellow
was caught as an Audubon Warbler flitted through the scattered
evergreens. I found later that Ruddy Ducks, Mallards and Barrow
Golden-eyes sometimes came to the reservoir in the spring ; but not
finding any now, I concluded that the constant summer travel had
driven them away, temporarily.

Passing on up the hill, I was entertained by the songs of the
Green-tailed Towhees. One of them, with chestnut crest erect and
tail twitching, was singing his best for his mate, while she, perhaps,
was quietly admiring her gay troubadour; and, if so, she had ample
reason. He was so debonair and his song so sweet and varied that
I disliked to leave him. This bird was singing from the top of a
bush about three feet high, and a few minutes later another was
found singing from the tip of a pine only about seven feet high ;
as there were many higher trees, it was quite evident that the singers
selected their perches from choice and not because no loftier perches

Birds of ilie Ycllori'stniic Park

35

could he found. As I started on, a Mourniu!^ Dove drifted softly
by, showiiij;^ its while-edged tail fan as it alighted in the road, — •
another familiar bird whose slight difference liad given it that bur-
densome prefix of "Western" (see fig. ii). 'lliree Red-tailed
Hawks flew' by, fighting amongst themselves, and to me it seemed
like a general mixup where each hawk fought against the other
two. After passing a grove of aspens beside the road where two
Audubon Warblers were singing a duet, I caught a movement in
the brush and went to investigate. Instead of a robin or a sparrow
(lying away, before my astonished eyes out walked a brown bear!
Not being in search of that kind of prize, I let him take his own
path. The bear was inoffensive and paid no attention to me, going
on about his business. Along the hillsides where the road climbed
steadily upward through the remains of an old burnt forest of which
nothing was left but the unsightly stumps, there were large numbers
of White-crowned Sparrows. On all sides these indefatigable little
fellow^s were singing over and over again their one cheery refrain.
There are some bird songs of which one never tires, no matter how
much they are reiterated, and that of the White-crown is among
the number. It has not the melody of the Towhee and the Meadow-
lark, nor the reminiscent Cjuality of the Robin ; yet it was sadly
missed when the birds stopped singing in midsummer. Indeed, not
until I missed the White-crown's strain did I realize that the song
season was over. While ascending the road through the burn, I
had been starting up Pink-sided Juncos, usually one or two at a
time. Sometimes a group of half a dozen were gathered together
about a little pile of oats spilled in the road from some wagon going
to stations farther up in the Park. Nor were the birds the only
ones who benefited by these treasure-troves ; there were chipmunks
and ground squirrels of different kinds in great numbers, and two
or three times that queer tailless animal with the big ears, the pika
or little chief hare — or to use the local name, rock rabbit.
Frequently a big, fat woodchuck waddled out of the way, gyrating
his tail like a miniature windmill. It soon became evident that the
only place where chipmunks and woodchucks were really numerous
was along the roads. These wise little four-foots had learned that
it was much easier to pick up oats and scraps in the road than to
forage for their natural food in the wilds.

While passing through those strange freaks of nature, the huge
tumbled rocks known as The Hoodoos, I saw very few birds, but
there was a pair of Juncos right in the Silver Gate, and a little

3<5

Roosevelt ]\'ild Life BuUetin

beyond a Cassin Purple I'incli lilled crimson head and betook
himself to a small cedar. I hrou^di tht (iolden (iate, only a Nut-
cracker or two flew slowly over and a few 'i'ree Swallows swung
to and fro on their tireless aerial search. This paucity of bird life
gave me ample opportunity to enjoy the wonderful scenery, so
strikingly beautiful that I did not miss the birds until a Dipper
beside Rustic Fall caught my attention. He flew up the face of
the waterfall seemingly never entirely out of the spray, and so close
to the tumbling water that his black form was sharply outlined
against the white foam. Either he, or another Dipper, appeared
just beyond the Fall. Two branches of Glen Creek join on the
flat just above, and it was ver)- amusing to see the dark gray bird
come flying down the center of one stream, make an acute-angled
turn, and go buzzing merrily up the center of the other creek. It
would have been much shorter to fly directly across from
one stream to the other ; but while a Dipper can make such a flight,
he is opposed to it. It seems to be one of its unwritten laws to
always fly over water if possible, and the little birds often go to
considerable trouble to do this.

So intently had I been watching the Dipper that I failed to note
the change in the scenery; a monent before I had been in a gloomy,
impressive canyon shut in by perpendicular clifTs; but now, before
me lay a wide, level, smiling valley with a chain of high snow-capped
mountains on the far side, five miles or more away. It was Swan
Lake Basin, although the lake w as not in sight from this point ;
neither, so far as 1 could ascertain, had it e\er had swans upon it.
Therefore it was probably called Swan Lake to satisfy the namer's
whim. But as I was enjoying the beauty of the valley, a vigorous
quacking recalled my thoughts to the avifauna just as a Mallard
sprang up and rose high in air from the slough where she was
resting. She was soon followed by the drake whose quack was
neither so loud nor so sonorous as hers. \\ hy w as it that with
ducks in pairs, the females always took alarm and flushed before
the drakes? I had noticed it in the case of the Golden-eye, Buffle-
head and Green-winged Teal, as well as the Mallard. Was it because
the duck was shyer and more easily alarmed. Or was the drake
lazy and loath to start until there was danger of his better half
deserting him? And why was the duck's quack loud and audible
at a long distance, while the drake's note was soft and sibilant
Did she need it more because she had to warn her ducklings of
frequent dangers?

Birds of flic Yellowstone Park

37

Fig. 10. A Broad-tailed Hunimiii.uliird on its tiny iie^t in a rose luish.
Most of these birds breed at much higlier altitudes, but occasionally a
pair prefer the rose bush zone at about 6000 feet.

38

Roosevelt U'ild Life Bulletin

Fig. 12. The Killdcer is always a conspicuous feature of its chosen home,
especially because of its piercing cry, uttered almost incessantly.

Birds of the YcUoivstonc Park

39

When the Malhirds had disapi^eared, my altcnlioii relumed to
Swan Lake I)asin, v. liicli has an elevation of 7300 feet, and is typical
of many superb valleys hidden away amid the mountains. Clear of
timber except for occasional patches of lodgepole pine and aspens,
with a little willow brush along the watercourses and about damp
places, its f^oor is covered with low sagebrush and stretches away
to the delectable mountains on either hand. Numerous Vesper Spar-
rows, with tails showing their characteristic white outer feathers,
jumped up out of the sage and went flitting along just over its level
top. The clear, open path apparently appealed to the Vesper Spar-
row, for when tlushed from it he would spring up and after flying
a few feet alight in it again, repeating this until sometimes he had
preceded me thus for a half-mile or more. Many of the Vespers
were singing from a bush or slightly raised i)erch, but none were
heard to sing from a really high elevation. They are among the
few birds w-ho sing better in the evening than in the morning, their
sweet, sim])le lay becoming richer at the approach of sunset.

In one of the few clusters of trees among the sage, a Swainson
Hawk was sitting calmly on the very tip of one, with a Vesper
Sparrow just below him, the little bird showing not the slightest
fear of its big neighbor, although a IMeadowlark on the ground was
perturbed about something and kept sounding his alarm note of
"kip-kip-kip-kip-kip."

In some willow bushes, a glimp.se of a small yellow bird darting
about led to my discovery of three Pileolated Warblers, with black
cap and bright yellow breast — birds whose beautiful plumage and
picjuant ways make them always welcome. They were very nervous,
after the warbler fashion, and kept moving briskly about ; but beyond
a few chirps, they w'ere silent. On one of the telephone wires that
encircle the Park, alYording comfort to both man and bird, a Spar-
row Hawk that had just flown up was making much ado about
getting his balance, teetering back and forth uncertainly until finally
his long tail gave him the \ ictory. Hardly was he settled before
he spied a mou.se in the grass ; down he shot like an arrow, and
after a moment flew off with the prey clutched in his talons. As
if to show that all the hawks of the region were harmless, a Robin
was perched near a Red-tail. It was cjuite safe, for where ground
squirrels and mice are as abundant as they were here, the Red-tail
is as inoffensive to the birds as the Swainson Hawk, and that is
saying a good deal, too. About noon I arrived at the camp with
its gleaming white tents set in a little meadow beside the rushing

40

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

upper Gardiner River, and here I found pleasant quarters with
some friends until the next morning. They had just driven over
the long trail from New York and were resting here in this charm-
ing spot and making the acquaintance of the trout of the rapid
mountain stream.

From the camp it was only a short walk to Swan Lake, which
I visited that afternoon, hoping to see ducks. None were in sight
when I got there, at least not out on the open lake, and I was about
to turn away. But a soft "quack-quack" close at hand led me to
discover a pair of Mallards. I had forgotten the remarkable tame-
ness of these protected birds and had been looking for them at
long range, only to find them almost at my elbow. Just then the
drake commenced his bath ; putting his head under water he gave
a sudden plunge forward, making the water run up over his back,
assisted by the lifting action of the fluttering wings. After about
five of these "showers" he stood erect on the bank and flapped his
wings rapidly to throw off the surplus water. This done, he preened
himself, dressing his feathers back nicel)', after which he hoisted
one foot and went to sleep in the warm sun. The duck did the
same but I had a notion that she was "sleeping with one eye open" ;
at any rate it was open when I moved away, although she did not
otherwise disturb herself. As I approached another slough there
was a great commotion, a female Mallard clucking to her young
and then blundering ofif with pretended broken wing. I knew the
trick and set myself to find the youngsters instead of being led
away by the ruse. Three ducklings were discovered hidden under
fallen leaves and rushes, three more swam off under water, while a
seventh clung to a grass stem a foot beneath the surface. He clung
there just as long as he could, then came to the surface for breath
and swam out to the mother who was circling about near open water.
Judging from the broods found that afternoon, there must have been
great variation in the nesting period of the Mallards ; some young-
sters were fully three weeks old while others were but just out of
the nest, and one nest was found with eggs in it only partly incvi-
bated. This nest was on a little tussock of grass in the shallow
water of the overflowed flat, built of weed stems, lined with a few
feathers, and contained eight eggs of a ding}- yellowish drab.

One brood of Mallards was seen swimming across a small pond,
the mother ahead with the ducklings following at evenlj' spaced
intervals as if tied together in tow. Suddenly a note of alarm, and
the whole brood swung quickly away from the rushes on the far

Birds of the Yellozvstojic Park

41

side. A moment later a muskrat came gliding rapidly towards the
ducklings. How they did swim ! But they couldn't swim quite as
fast as the oncoming rat. He was almost upon the last one, which
now seemed lost, but the mother saw the danger and in an instant
was there scooping water into the rat's face with her wing ! The
muskrat slowed up under this unexpected attack so that the duck-
ling gained a little ; but soon the race was on again, and again the
mother hurried to the rescue. Twice more she gained a respite, and
by that time the little Mallards had reached the reeds and shortly
after were safely on shore. Happily for the family the water had
been too shallow for the muskrat to dive and come up under them.
Apparently the Red-tails never bothered the Mallard broods, for
several of these large hawks sailed about while the ducklings swam
fearlessly below.

At this time the moult was just beginning, and most of the drakes
looked quite dejected and not at all fit for general society; for
while the ducks are rearing their broods that strange moult occiu"s
that leaves the males powerless to fly but provides a protective color-
ation equal to and resembling in dullness the coloring of the female.
In late September they acquire their handsome dress once more.

Leaving the lake and its sloughs, I made my way to a grove of
"quaking asp" as the people of this region call the common poplar
or aspen. Here I found several Tree Swallows nesting. They
were in abandoned woodpecker holes from six to ten feet above the
ground, with openings an inch and a half across. The swallows
very evidently preferred to have new, clean holes, for there were
several older holes unoccupied. One pair had their nest in a hole
in solid wood so recently excavated that the fresh chips still lay on
the ground outside. As the swallow's hill is altogether too weak
for carpentry, the little interlopers must have driven out the wood-
peckers— Williamson Sapsuckers very likely — almost as soon as they
had finished the place, unless perchance some accident had befallen
the rightful owners. Be that as it may, the swallows were there and
had a nest of grass and leaves in a beautiful new wood house, with
four well-incubated white eggs. So engrossed had I been in the
discoveries of the afternoon that before I realized the lateness of
the hour, a Western Horned Owl came skimming across the sage-
brush of the Basin, alighted on a low bush, looked about for a
moment, and then pounced down upon the ground, from which he
flew to a neighboring pine with a ground squirrel hanging below.
It was surely supper time, and I took the hint and hurried back to
camp.

42

Roosevelt ]VUd Life Bulletin

During the night I was awakened by rain on the tent ; but as I
only intended going a couple of miles the next day, it did not dis-
turb me. As a matter of fact it would give a fine chance to see how
the birds comjjorted themselves in threatening weather. Would
they sing, or would they maintain a battling silence? The question
was answered before I was even dressed. A Robin commenced
with his "cheerily-cheerily-cheer-up" and was followed by a w^hole
chorus of White-crowned Sparrows. A low, trilling song was added
which I afterwards found to come from the Lincoln Sparrow, a bird
that looks very much like a -Song .Sparrow but whose .song is far
from measuring up to that bird's standard. He is a dweller of the
brushy meadows above 7000 feet, but is so shy as to be seldom seen.

After breakfast the rain slacked up and I started for Apollinaris
S])ring camj) ground where my friends intended moving their camp
later in the day. Already the birds were taking advantage of the
cessation of the storm; hardly had I .started when I found a Swain-
son Hawk, balancing on the extreme tip of a pine, stretched up to
his utmost with his wings spread, getting dried out, and on a limb
only a few feet below was a Vesper Sparrow, also drying oflf. Fur-
ther on, a Killdeer (see fig. 12) was heard and then seen flying up
and down uttering the most mournful of distress calls. Possibly
a couple of neighboring Crows had been after the young. \i so,
they did not get them all, for later in the summer near the muddy
banks of a small shrunken pond, I found two downy chicks running
about with the mother. At one time the mother crouched flat on
the ground and lay moti(jnless for a few moments, but could not
have had much confidence in this manner of hiding for she was soon
u]i and running again.

Now, as if to remind me in my preoccupation not to take too many
liberties with the climate, a sudden hailstorm came sweeping across
from the Gallatin Mountains. A Nutcracker who had mounted to
the very tip of a pine at the clatter of the first hailstones, squawked
deliance at the storm ; but when the hail came thick and fast our
Mr. Deliance was forced to seek a retreat. A Gray Ruffed Grouse
had taken shelter in a small group of firs ; and although, when T
came up, he erected his ruff and strutted about, apparently he did
not care, to fly out into the storm. As I approached he did not seem
unduly alarmed, but walked about within the confines of his shelter,
now thrusting his head up to see better, then lowering it almost to
the ground; and all the time uttering a series of low clucks.

Fresh from the East I had missed the familiar Blue Jay; but
knowing that other species replaced him here in the Rocky Moun-

Birds of the YcUoxi-'stone Park

43

tains, I kept a close watch for llieni. Soon after lca\ int; the (Iroiise,
my searcli was rewarded by Iniding- a Black-lieaded Ja)-. lie was
a handsome rogue, not so gaudy as the eastern bird, but still very
attractive with his neat crest, his black head and neck, and the natty
dark blue of the remaining plumage. He proved himself a true
scion of the family l)y climbing a [)ine tree a branch at a time, giv-
ing a loud "chick-er-r, cliick-er-r, chick-er-r" as he mounted. He
had a great \ariety of calls and whi.stles, .some of them so sharp
and -Strident that they made a horse picketed out on the meadow
unea.sy. A second I'lack-headed Jay was seen on the bank of
Obsidian Creek, presumably catching insects.

At Apollinaris S]:)ring camp that evening, I made the ac(|uaintance
of the Camp Robber, or Rocky IMountain Jay. Near the cook's
tent two of the big fluffy gray birds got to fighting so hard over some
tidbit that they fell to the ground and the cook picked them up still
fighting. Although at first apparently quite fearless, the birds began
to utter piercing screams when they found themselves caught, and
when released went crashing through the bushes almost blind with
fright.

As I sat watching the camptire in the evening, I became aware
of several owls about. A .Short-eared Owl came flying in from the
meadow in front, and a rare .Screech Owl (fig. 13) darted through
the trees. A A\'estern Horned Owl (fig. 14) alighted in a tree
overhead, and after staring a short time at the fire that had attracted
him, his "mountain lion" call from so close at hand brought con-
sternation to the fable-fed "dudes," as tenderfeet in the Yellowstone
are termed.

Having a desire to see the \\'estern Entrance and its birds, I took
the regular tourist auto-stage on the next day for W'est Yellowstone.
In spite of the noise of the heavy car we were able to pass close
enough to a Robin to obserxe him enjoying his morning bath in the
edge of a shallow pool. ]\Iany ducks were seen in passing, gliding
among the beaver ponds ; but although a sharp lookout was kept
for the beaver themselves, the only possible ones seen by us turned
out to be woodchucks taking their morning sun bath. Numerous
broods of ducks prettily swimming, one behind the other, called out
admiring exclamations, and a mother goose leading her eight accur-
ately spaced goslings was enthusiasticall\- watched across Beaver
Lake. After entering the pine forests almost the only birds seen
were the Pink-sided Juncos flying out of the road as w^e came along.
Near the little park-like openings and meadows, Audubon Warblers
were to be seen dodging about the tree-tops.

Birds of the Y cUazvstonc Park

45

At one of the short stops, near a marshy place, we witnessed an
odd incident, the capture of a large frog by a Nutcracker. The
bird struck (|uick downward blows at the frog and frecjuently tossed
it higli in air. The reason for the assault on the frog could not be
ascertained; there would have been nothing strange if the bird had
eaten the frog, but he did not. He left his victim long before my
approach could have scared him away. The frog was quite dead
although the skin was not punctured, so that the mere force of the
blows must have done the work. On the shore of a small pond we
saw an unusual and striking sight, a group of Mallards standing
with one leg drawn up, sound asleep. Not only did these birds
realize that they could sleei) under the protection of the Park rules
but they had apparently discovered that the con.stant passing of
vehicles kept off their natural enemies, the mink, fox and coyote.

At Norris Geyser Basin there were no accommodations, yet it
was an interesting place to stay, and I was fortunate enough to get
permission to stop at the ranger station and arranged to be picked
up by the auto-stage next day. Bluebirds and Robins were plentiful
in the neighborhood; indeed, for many years a pair of Bluebirds
had nested in a false rafter of the porch within less than four feet
of persons passing in and out. The little family was a never failing
source of interest ; it was so close and could be heard so plainly that
one could not miss it.

There was a small bird seen quite frecpiently picking up oats
about the barns at Norris — a Cassin Purple Finch. He was a trim
and attractive little fellow with his crimson crown, and red tingeing
his otherwise sparrow-like dress. With his retiring ways, he was
in danger of being overlooked. But not when he sang! Great was
my astonishment when he mounted to the top of a pine and poured
forth a peculiarly sweet and varied song. Fortunate indeed is one
who hears the infrequent but memorable song of this finch.

Among the many Brewer Blackbirds at Norris was noticed an
albino. He was pure white except for a slight smokiness about the
head and shoulders. It was startling to see a white bird in a flock
of forty blackbirds, so contrary to one's sense of the fitness of
things that the man who first reported it did so with a half-
apologetic smile as if he expected to be accused of color blindness.
Nor was this the only case of albinism observed among the Brewer
Blackbirds; two other albinos were seen that same season in the
Park, though in neither case was the white so extensive. One, a
male, had two white bars on his wings and a few white feathers on

46

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

his back; the other was a female with several white spots about
the neck, breast and shoulders, a white feather or two in the wings,
and two white central tail feathers.

Along the Gibbon River that flows past Xorris many Mallards
and Teal built their nests and raised their families as unconcerned
as though this was no "wonderland" with inquisitive tourists to pry
into their affairs. The .S])otted Sandpif)ers that flew up and down
cried "feet wet" all day long, and fittingly, for they were in the
water as much as they were out, even the babies still in the down
entering the water and swimming short distances.

According to agreement, the auto-stage sto])ped next day and
picked me up to continue my trip, after this delightful stop-over, to
West Yellowstone. At Elk Park a small flock of Brewer Blackbirds
aro.se from the low bushes overhanging their nests. Farther along
the road, a pair of great Sandhill Cranes stalked majestically across
Gibbon Meadows, and as the auto approached too closely, flew off
with powerful, bugle-like cries growing mellower and mellower as
the birds faded from view. Several Kingfishers flew up the Gibbon
River or perched on an overhanging .stub watching for their prey.
Except for those noted above, the afternoon's ride was almost bird-
less until the Madison River was reached, but after that the ride
along the river, with its varied prospects, was extremely interesting
although no unusual birds were seen.

Near West Yellowstone, the river strongly suggested trout, so I
got out my tackle to give them a try. As I stood on the bank joining
my rod together, it suddenly became alive in my hands. On glancing
up, to my delight I saw a Mountain Chickadee perched on the rod,
looking up at me with his bright eyes alight with curiosity. As the
bird was only a foot from my hand and turned his head from side
to side, I had a fine chance to note the white stripe over the eye
that distinguishes him from other chickadees (pi. i and fig. 4).
As the fish were not biting well, I soon stopped fishing and lay down
on the grassy bank. A Pigeon Hawk came flying over and about
thirty feet above the meadow suddenly stopped, then plunged
straight down at such speed that it seemed as if he would be dashed
to pieces. \\ hether he secured his prey, a possible grasshopper or
locust, one could not be sure.

Birds of the Yellon'sfone Park

47

BIRDS FROM WEST YELLOWSTONE, MONTANA, TO
OLD FAITHFUL INN

Early in the morning I was awakened by the "honk, ah-honk"
of wild geese, and listening eagerly, I heard distinctly the flap of
their big wings as they flew ofif to their morning feeding grounds.
It was cold, so cold that the grass was covered with frost and the
bright meadow flowers of the previous night were stifif with rime.
But the morning sun soon thawed them out and they were as bright
and as fresh as ever. Hardy flowers, these ! But they must be
hardy to live in a climate where a frost is likely to occur during any
week in the year. As I looked about, a Pigeon Hawk came flying
past. Was this the hunter of the previous afternoon? If so, he
had gotten into trouble, for he was now being hotly pursued by a
mother Robin with a half-dozen Tree Swallows trailing along in
her wake.

When the auto-stage to Old Faithful Inn was ready, I boarded
it for the return trip to Madison Junction and thence to the Upper
Geyser Basin. We had scarcely started when a pretty scene was
enacted before our very eyes. A mother Rufifed Grouse walked
across the road, followed by thirteen downy little chicks ! As we
passed by, the mother clucked once or twice and the little fellows
fluttered ofi:' on wings barely big enough to support them. Later,
while my stage companions were inspecting hot springs and gey-
sers, I found another brood and again the confident mother stayed
calmly on the ground and permitted her young to fly ofl; without
once trying the broken-wing tactics usual with this species in other
regions. Truly, these well guarded birds were full of surprises. Al
another stop a trustful White-crowned Sparrow was feeding her
full-grown youngster in a willow bush beside the road.

The highway passed across a level plain, somewhat sandy in
places but, on the whole, well covered with grass and flowers and
dotted with groups of beautiful, well-shaped pines. This stretch
is known as Christmas Tree Park. The Madison River was soon
reached, and then came a beautiful drive along the .shores over a
good hard road that lasted for many miles. The river valley was
alive with birds ; and even omitting those ijeculiar to the lower
altitudes, there were more species here than at Mammoth and a
far greater number of individuals. On one occasion I counted over
three hundred Robins in a short space of time; and yet I was often
asked by people used only to the dooryard birds of the East whether
there were any Robins at all in the Park.

4^

osevelt iVild Life Bulletin

During the morning's ride it was the Audubon Warbler, which
is the western form of the Myrtle Warblers and easily identified
by yellow on crown, throat and rump (see pi. 4), that attracted my
attention especially. They were everywhere, searching in the brush
along the water's edge, darting here and there catching flies, and
singing merrily from the tree-tops. The Audubon is about the only
one of the warblers that can really be called common in the Park.
He feeds largely on insects found about the tree-tops, yet he is
seen oftenest about the low bushes, usually not far from water,
looking for tiny water insects. His song is a weak little trill bearing
some resemblance to that of the Junco; and his most characteristic
habit is his erratic flight. To see him suddenly leave his perch, fly
swiftly a few feet, dart off to one side in a series of zigzags, and
then return unconcernedly to his former perch might well suggest
that he was of unsound body or mind; but after watching him for
a time his expertness in catching insects on the w^ing elicited our
great admiration. While he does have the reputation of being so
preoccupied with his hunting as to pay little heed to anything else,
he finds time to get his nest built and raise a brood of young ones.
The nest is attractively woven of grasses, strips of bark and pine
needles, lined with rootlets, hair, and feathers ; it is placed in a pine
tree, sometimes close to the ground or again high in air, and usually
has four greenish eggs somewhat speckled with brown.

Even while the birds were the chief attraction, I could not fail
to notice the magnificent array of flowers in the meadows along the
river. Dog-tooth violets and columbine were everywhere. \'ery
often a dainty little harebell was seen nodding on its slender stem ;
but the only flower I found with a distinct fragrance was a mass
of white phlox. At andther place where the stage stopped I took
the opportunity to search for what the birds might be eating, and
found the ground covered with delicious wild strawberries. W hile
I did not actually see any birds eating them, many birds do so, and
I am sure it is an indication of their good taste.

As the stage proceeded along the river, a pair of Canada Geese
that had been swimming there, on seeing us glided ashore and
climbed the opposite bank. A little farther on, three or four
Shoveller Ducks were dabbling in the shallow water near shore
or preening on the bank. Suddenly one on the water made a vicious
grab at his neighbor. But the other anticipated him and dodged
quickly. Persisting, the belligerent one dove and tried unsuccess-
fully to catch its companion from beneath, and on rising to the
surface saw him escaping up the bank.

Birds of the VeUoxvstone Park

49

A Great Blue Heron was seen on a marshy fiat along tlie edge
of the river (fig. 15), the only large representative of the heron
family occurring in the Park ; but there is the Sandhill Crane which
might be confused with it, although the Crane has a brownish tinge
that the Heron lacks. The Crane inhabits drier tracts of open land
as a rule and yet it is often seen in the same places as the Heron.
On the other hand, the Heron flies with neck folded back upon
itself, and is usually silent ; whereas the Crane always flies with
neck and legs stretched out to their fullest extent and almost always
utters a far-reaching, bugle-like call. On one or two occasions I
found the nests and yovmg of the Sandhill Crane, but I have never
been able to learn where the Blue Heron breeds, if at all, in the
Yellowstone Park. Whenever I came upon one of these Cranes
stalking majestically across a meadow and lowering his head now
and then as some tidbit caught his eye, it always seemed as if I
had a glimpse of a still more original wilderness ; and it was thrill-
ing to hear his wonderful bugle calls, so powerful and ringing.

Ducks, particularly Mallards, and geese find a very congenial
home in the many small ponds and sloughs dotting the Madison
marshes, and showed as in other parts of the Park the confidence
in man that protection has given all birds and mammals here.
Those that spend the summer and breed here become very tame
indeed. On this day, as usual, Mallards remained in their wayside
pools and Allowed the car full of merry, laughing tourists to pass
within a few feet without showing alarm. At such times, especially
near a hotel or permanent camp, it was hard to convince the traveler
that the ducks were really wild. The cautious actions of the migrat-
ing birds that pass through in the spring and fall are very con-
spicuous, for of course these incoming Mallards have not been
trained under Yellowstone Rules, and are literally as "wild as
hawks" are — elsewhere, for even the hawks in this sanctuary are
not wild. With the exception of the fiercer, rarer ones and the
large Golden and Bald Eagles, I found the birds of prey so tame
as to afford unusual opportunities for acquaintance. Outside the
Park, they were so harried and hunted that it was difficult to acquire
a satisfactory knowledge of them. Of course I had no great love
for the destructive accipitrine hawks and the Great Horned Owl;
but these are rare in the Park, and it is the Swainson Hawk that
is most likely to be seen. My previous ideas of hawks were com-
pletely revised by the study of the gentle, tractable Swainson living.i
in perfect harmony with the small birds about him, and devoting •

Fig. 15. A Great Blue Heron. W herever met \vith this bird is a picturesque
addition to the sccner)-, ahhough its long, dagger bill is deadly to small fishes
and frogs.

Birds of the Yellotcstofte Park

51

all his energies tn the catching of mice and ground squirrels. Nor
w as the (|uiet, w ell-behaved ( )sprey any more surprising w ith its
irreproachable habits, from the bird lover's point of view. To be
sure it caught trout. lUit what of that? There were enough and
to spare for the few fish-eating birds as well as for human fishermen.

I'^verywhere along the stage road were swallows, particularly
Tree Swallows. Watching the endless exolutions of these agile
flyers, I wondered why they seemed more numerous over rapids
and waterfalls in the daytime, but were apt to .seek the quiet reaches
in the evening. Insect larvae were often crawling up the rocks
beside the falls and transforming into adults in the daytime, while
the night-flying insects were mostly over the quiet water. Was this
the explanation? My musings were broken by a large Richardson
(Irouse which walked across the road and, as the auto-stage passed,
jumped up into a tree. He looked so large and so tame and unsus-
pecting that one of the passengers insisted on trying to get a photo-
graph in spite of the driver's warning that the bird would fly as
soon as the car stopped. \\'hen the brakes took hold the Grouse
was of¥ like a flash ! Only a mile passed before another grouse
was seen, but this one was wild. A few missing tail feathers hinted
that he may ha\e had a recent escajie from a coyote and so wasn't
taking any more chances.

Scattered along the meadows were small birds of different kinds,
usually one or two individuals at a time. White-crowned Sparrows
were singing from bush or tree, and once from the ground. A
group of four Juncos and a Ruby-crowned Kinglet romped through
the evergreens ; Mergansers and Mallards were distributed over the
quieter stretches of water; Spotted .Sandpipers flew up and down
or stopped to teeter on a stone ; once a Red-tail sailed over, high
up in the clear blue sky ; and Chipping Sparrows and Bluebirds
claimed one's attention here and there. The meadows seemed too
small for Meadowlarks, but right where the Gibbon and Firehole
Rivers combined to form the Madison, one was singing from a
surveyor's stake. A Robin flew ofY squawking from a group of
pines and we suspected that a guilty pine .squirrel might have known
the cause.

A stop was made at the Fountain Geyser and time taken for a
short rest which I improved by looking leisurely for birds. Many
Tree Swallows, and their constant companions, the Northern Violet-
greens, were flying about. It was interesting to see one of the Tree
Swallows fly up to the hotel eaves and disappear into a round hole

52

Roosevelt ]\'Ud Life Bulleftn

that looked from below no bigger tlian a nickel. Apparently the
swallows found this a satisfactory substitute for the old woodpecker
hole in an aspen which was used before the hotel people came along
and provided this ready-made nesting site. Sometimes they crawl
under roofing tiles and build their nests in the cavities there. It is
an interesting study to see how far some birds will adapt them-
selves to conditions as changed by man ; swallows, notably so. Barn
Swallows now almost invariably use beams in the interior of barns
or similar undisturbed buildings; the Tree Swallows and Northern
Violet-greens are changing in some places to artificial nesting sites;
and the Clif¥ Swallow, like the eastern birds of the same species,
are plastering their mud retorts below the eaves of buildings in the
Yellowstone. All swallows should prove most welcome guests about
our homes and camps.

Rut the greatest attraction was that little feathered dandy, the
Western Tanager (pi. i). Discovered by Lewis and Clark on their
memorable trip across the continent, he is the only Park member of
the tanager family; but like the other s])ecies found elsewhere, he is
gaily dressed with his yellow and black plumage, relieved by the
red of the head and neck. The East has its Scarlet Tanager, the
Southeast its Summer Tanager, and the Southwest its Hepatic
Tanager, but the mountain region may be well satisfied with its
representative of the group, the gay Western Tanager. Individuals
were seen wherever there was an opening in the forests with water
near, but they were never very common anywhere. Tanagers are
a little too brilliant to be wasted on every bit of landscape, appar-
ently. But the female is as inconspicuous as the safety of her home
requires. Indeed it takes sharp eyes to make out her olive-green
back and dull yellowish under pans, unrelieved by red, as she sits
oh her nest. She is a tidy little homemaker, building on some low
branch of a pine tree, her nest of twigs lined with grasses and
sometimes various mosses, to receive her blue-green eggs finely
speckled with brown. The food habits of this beautiful little couple
are very beneficial from our point of x'lew, for while they spend
most of their time gleaning from the higher foliage of the coniferous
woods, and not about farms and ranches, their diet of insects and
caterpillars is of protective value to the forests.

From Fountain Geyser it was a short dri\e to the Upper Geyser
Basin, where the birds became of secondary interest to the tourists
until the hotel and the marvelous aggregation of geysers and hot
springs had been inspected. Old Faithful Inn is a huge hotel built

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

V

Photo hii It. B. RockireU

Fig. i6. A Red- shafted Flicker and its
young. While this flicker will frequently
cross with the Yellow-shafted or North-
ern Flicker — hybrids being seen in the
Park — a typical Northern Flicker ha?
not jet been reported,

54

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

Photo hy Frank .V. Ii vinp

Fig. 17. When a family of Red-shafted Flickers is encountered, the hirds are often
as thickly clustered as this picture shows them.

Birds of the V cUotvsloue Park

55

of rustic materials that have been utiHzed in a masterful way, and
provided with modern luxuries. Such an attractive place, operated
by a management that looked after our every want, proved irre-
sistible. During the few days of my stay, I enjoyed this most
homelike hotel to the full. The afternoon of my arrival was given
up to the geysers, and I realized as never before the wonderful
sight-seeing possibilities of the region ; for here I was on a trip
to study birds, and actually seeing many interesting avian sights,
yet by night I was glad to admit that the afternoon's exploration
of the geysers had amply repaid me for the whole trip !

The next morning I was out bright and early for new adventures.
Near the Inn a Bluebird was busy with his parental duties, so busy
that he had drenched his neat blue suit in the dew-laden grass where
he had been pouncing" on chilled grasshoppers for his ever-hungry
brood. Other bird youngsters were about, including two full-grown
speckle-breasted Robins discovered near the Studio, still being fed
by the mother.

Many of the birds already found were noted here at various
times ; Bluebirds, Robins, and White-crowned Sparrows all nested
in the immediate vicinity of the hotel ; the Nutcrackers were often
heard scolding in the edge of the forest ; the Brewer Blackbirds
were already collecting in flocks; Cassin Purple Finches were fre-
cjuent visitors; and sometimes Tree Swallows and We.stern Tana-
gers were seen. A pair of Flickers were nesting in a nook or cranny
of the rustic work of a hotel dormer window^ But how strange
these flickers would be to eastern eyes. Here I had a much better
chance to study them closely than I had had in the Gardiner Canyon
and I found that they had the general color, shape, and habits of
the eastern species (figs. i6, i"). The same ground color of brow'n,
the same black crescent on the breast, the same black bars across
the back, the same white rump, the same big round black spots
underneath, and the black tail ; but when these flickers were on the
wing the red plumage beneath the wings and tail flashed out.
Stranger still, throughout the edges of the Red-shafted Flicker's
range, where it overlaps the range of the Yellow-shafted, there is
interbreeding between the two species. It is held that the Red-
shafted is a distinct species, and interbreeding on a large scale in
such a case is most unusual. It is true that hybrids occur between

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

other species but not to such an extent. Here in the Yellowstone,
the birds I have found showed all manner of gradations between
the Red-shafted or Western, and the Yellow-shafted or Northern
Flicker, with the "reds" predominating. On the other hand the
ranges of the two Meadowlarks, the eastern and western, overlap
for many hundreds of miles, and so far as the coloration goes there
is only a slight difference in the shading ; yet the two species are
everywhere distinct, and as Ridgway's Manual of Birds states, there
is an "excessive rarity of intermediate specimens."

Ever since first entering the Park, I had noticed the Juncos
feeding all along the roads through the heavy timber, flashing their
white outer tail feathers when they flew up in front of us. Very
proud of these white feathers the Juncos seemed and it often
appeared as if the male took particular pains to display them, espe-
cially when in company with the female, who did not seem quite
so gaily adorned. These were the Pink-sided Juncos (pi. 4), Rocky
Mountain relatives of the Slate-colored Snowbird of the East.
Here the Junco is a summer resident, breeding and rearing its young
without a thought of the wintry weather with which we always
associate its eastern relative. But it does serve to help contrast
the summer bird life of this greater elevation with that of the low-
lying eastern country at the same latitude. Likewise the White-
crowned Sparrow, which in the East is a migrant only, bound for
his nesting grounds in the far north. Here in the Yellowstone, at
an elevation of 7000 feet, both species find the conditions they
require for raising their young. They were the two most common
birds that I saw — the Junco in the evergreen forests, and the
White-crowned Sparrow in the open uplands and mountain
meadows. About the geysers the Junco appeared to be the most
abundant bird. At first you did not see him so often as the Brewer
Blackbird, nor was he so noticeable as the Robins and Bluebirds ;
l)Ut when one deliberately looked for him and learned his elusive
chirps, he soon assumed his rightful importance in one's list. While
our Junco is a summer bird, arriving about April first and staying
until November, he surely finds plenty of snow. He often ascends
high up into the mountains as early as the first of June, when the
snow still lies so deep that not a blade of grass is to be seen.
Occasionally he was observed at that season above nine thousand
feet, singing as gaily as his brothers far below at the 7000-foot

Birds of the YelloivrJouc Park

57

level. Even the early Robins and the Bluebirds seek the high slopes;
so evidently there is some strong impulse for this action, perhaps
analogous to the "urge to migrate" northward and southward.
Often !he rangers have forced their horses up the heights until
they could go no farther, only to see on the next rise beyond a
beautiful little Bluebird, or hear the merry tinkle of the Junco.

The Juncos pair ofif late in May, and by the middle of June
have made their nests of grass stems, lined with finer grasses, on
the ground under some sheltering plant or tree root. They are
very adept at finding shelter. On one occasion I was so absorbed
in watching a pair and listening to the song that I did not notice
an approaching storm until it actually burst over our heads. Then
I surely wished I could find shelter from the pelting hailstones as
readily as they did under a ledge overhung with low-growing
juniper. On another occasion during a heavy snowstorm, a flock
of Juncos flew under some brush over which the wet, clinging snow
had formed a perfect canopy. During such storms, the Juncos grew
very tame indeed, coming about the buildings, and especially the
stables, to pick up waste grain ; even at other times they often
became friendly enough to fearlessly enter my tent.

Another noticeable bird was the Pacific Nighthawk. The
western form is somewhat lighter in color than the eastern, in
accordance with the law that birds are lighter colored in an open,
dry climate than in the damper coastal regions. Still darker than
the eastern birds are those inhabiting the more humid, forested
Pacific coast. Here, about the Geyser Basin the Nighthawks laid
their eggs and fed their young (fig. i8). Unlike most birds, they
construct no nest and the young get very little attention. Two
speckled, creamy eggs are laid upon the bare ground, both eggs
and young so closely resembling the surroundings that it always
was a mystery to me how the parents ever relocated them. Night-
hawks would scarcely have time to build a substantial nest, in addi-
tion to rearing a family ; for being dependent on flying insects for
food they do not reach the Park until about June 15 and must leave
again late in August or early in September. Perhaps such Spartan
bringing up makes the young better fitted to shift for themselves!
Certainly for birds that only lay a single pair of eggs a year sorne^
thing unusual is needed to keep up the vigor of the retce,

Birds of the YeUowstnuc Park

59

BIRDS FROM OLD FAITHFUL TO YELLOWSTONE
LAKE AND THE GRAND CANYON

My stay at Old Faithful having ended, T took the regular
auto trip over the continental di\ ide to the \\ est Tluinib of
Yellowstone Lake. The ride was not es]K-cially interesting,
ornithologically speaking, only the usual Juncos, Audubon
\\ arblers and Sparrows, varied by an occasional Dii>j)er, being
observed. But the forest scenery with its nestling lakes was
memorable. The first view of Yellowstone Lake proved so
attractive that I boarded the l)oat then ojjerating and let the car
go on over a rather dusty road to the night's stopping place.
.Such a large sheet of water might well have a distinctive bird
population, and this proved to be the case. Not only were there
the usual ducks and geese, but also White Pelicans and gulls
(see fig. 45). At the first sight of pelicans my fellow-passenger
raised the cry of "Swan ! Swan ! See 'em right over there !" —
and all eyes were fixed eagerly on the great white birds swim-
ming along so majestically. Next to the Pelicans the grace-
ful gulls attracted the most attention (fig. 29). The very name
of "Sea-gull" brought to one's mind the huge open reaches of sea
and sandy beach, and the screaming, diving birds of familiar
harbors. Yet here were California Gulls at home on a lake, 7741
feet above sea level and a thousand miles inland. The boat ride
was all too short, for I made the acquaintance of some people
from my former home who were travelling via the permanent
camps. If it should prove possible, I determined to go on with
them; accordingly I sought the Lake Camp and found that I
could rejoin my friends for the next day's ride to the Grand
Canyon.

At the Lake, "going out to see the bears" was the special thing
to do. It was never thought necessary to mention the wcjrd
"bears" in conversation. Everyone was thinking of them all the
time. At supper a woman would ask: "Have you seen them?" —
going on in eager excitement : "/ did ; there was a great big
black one, and then a yellow one came down and drove him oft."
"Did you see the twin cubs?" "/ did; and didn't they look cute
up in the tree?" \\'ith so much excitement in the air, in self
defense I had to go out to see the bears, and behold, there were
birds, too ! Great flocks of Gulls were flying about and scream-
ing when the bears were present ; at other times they were on

6o

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

the ground gcttinjj their sliarc of the garbage. But I wasn't
allowed to forget the bears for the birds. Xot until I could talk
learnedly on both the wild bears I had known and those I hadn't
known was my conversation tolerated. Then, having seen the
Pelicans and Gulls and bears, I was allowed to wander off in
search of small fry like ducks and geese once more. They were
as tame and easily approached as elsewhere in the Park, and I
never tired of seeing them so close.

The Lake, and especially the Yellowstone Kiver just below
the Lake outlet, was frequented by countless waterfowl, al-
though they were not so plentiful now as they would be on the
approach of cold weather. Golden-eyes, Mergansers and Buffle-
heads dotted the river's surface, while Mallard and Teal
swarmed in the quiet ponds and sloughs. Even Baldpates and
Pintail Ducks and their broods were sometimes to be seen.

The Raven was a common bird about the Lake, and but for its
larger size and its hoarse, croaking note would have been taken
for a Crow. The latter, while seen commonly about Mammoth,
was comparatively rare on the higher parts of the Park plateau.
In the East the favorite amusement of the Crow, next to pulling
corn, is to mob an owl. Here we found the Ravens paying sim-
ilar attention to the great Golden Eagles that sometimes came
down from the high peaks. The larger, more awkward Eagle
seemed to have no defense against the Raven while in flight;
his only safety was in alighting somewhere. But at times when
he had alighted, he would be kept under surveillance by the
patient Ravens for a long period. W hile riding across the open
country of the northern section of the Park, I have often seen
an Eagle on the ground surrounded by a circle of Ravens, each
party apparently watchfully waiting for the other to make a
move.

But if the Eagle could nt)t drive off the Ravens, the Brewer
Blackbirds could effectively enough. Just as the Raven tor-
ments the Eagle, so does the Blackbird torment the Raven.
Similarly, the larger bird cannot escape by tiight, but must alight
to protect himself. One day, eight of the Blackbirds pursued a
Raven. The latter, in order to defend himself, alighted in the
top of a thick pine where he kept the marauders oft" by frequent
lunges and snaps of his bill. But what did they care for what
he evidently was saying "he'd do to 'em when he caught 'em."
They had plenty of time and could afford to wait to resume the

lairds of the Yellowstone Park

61

sport. He attempted to escape once or twice, but after a short
Hight returned, minus a few feathers, to tlie pine-to]) again and
was still there when I left.

Sometimes the Raven followed bigger game than Golden
Eagles. W hile crossing Hayden A'alley one day I noted a flock
of thirty-eight Ravens, some circling in the air and some on the
ground. Ravens in flocks were unusual, so I investigated. On
the side of a hill was a big, healthy grizzly bear asleep, with the
Ravens all about him. Perhaps they were waiting for scraps
from his next dinner.

The morning after my arrival at the Lake, I was out bright
and early in order to walk along the lakeshore to the outlet and
back before breakfast. As I crossed a meadow, a Brewer Black-
bird jumped up from under foot, flying away so reluctantly as to
indicate that its nest was near. Upon searching about, I soon
located it on the ground under a sage bush. There were six
youngsters almost ready to leave the nest; but even at that they
were late, for I had already seen young birds flying with the
flocks about Old Faithful Inn.

As I looked up, suddenly the sun arose from behind the
Absaroka Mountains on the far side of the lake. The morning
w^as clear and cold, the lake's surface unruffled by any suspicion
of a breeze, and what few clouds there were only lent additional
beauty to the scene by their brilliant coloring. Mountains and
lake and forest composed such a pictvire as our early pioneers
must have seen often and with inspiration ; for there was abso-
lutely nothing of man's destructive handiwork to mar it. The
meadow was alive with flowers of blue and red and yellow. A
Savannah Sparrow was trilling his song from a low sage bush.
On the lakeshore a Spotted .Sandpiper and two downy chicks
ran here and there, even the little fellows showing signs of the
family teeter. Out over the lake a flock of California Gulls was
wheeling and circling, while a few rested lightly on the surface
of the water. Just beyond them an Osprey plunged for his
breakfast with a mighty splash ; and toward the beach a score
or more of Golden-eyes were swimming contentedly, or else
skittering gaily over the surface. And there (I rubbed my eyes
with amazement) was an elk drinking at the water's edge ! It
was a scene that one could never forget.

As I w^alked on down the shore, a Raven stalking sedately
and quietly across the beach, let me come up within ten feet of

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Roosevell Wild Life Bulletin

him, merely iiKniiig out of llie way with a ])eculiar sidewise hop.
Some Robins Hew down, l)iit as they did not drink, were evi-
dently after the flies and otlier insects along the shore. One of the
Robins was very light in ccAor ; you could not call it an albino,
and yet it came very near U) being that. 'J'hc ujjper ])arts were
light gray; underneath, the breast and the other parts were a
straw color, but the head was normal and the eyes dark brown.
A couple of Gulls flying past seemed to be just the ordinary
California Gull, but — the underside of their tails was black!
Here was something new, surely ; never before had I seen or
heard of a black-tailed gull. They alighted just beyond and
gave me the coveted chance to observe them. \'ery carefully I
withdrew from the shore ; more carefully yet I made my way
around opposite them, and still more carefully approached the
edge of the bank above. Still too far for the eye to see, the pow-
erful binoculars brought out every detail of the plumage ; but
the tail feathers were normal on top and the underside was not
often in sight. Patient waiting had its reward at last, a good
view was obtained, and the tail was seen to be — smeared with
mud! That was luck; but it does not dim the fact that only
careful observation brings the best discoveries to the watcher
of birds.

But it was getting late and I must needs hurry back. On the
way, two Chipping Sparrows were encountered engaged in a
battle all by themselves beside the road, tumbling about in the
dust and fighting as fiercely as if the welfare of the whole spar-
row world depended on them.

A generous breakfast tasted good after the morning walk.
Then the auto-stages were loaded up and we were off to the
Canyon Camp by a magnificent scenic road lying along the
Yellowstone River through Hayden \'alley. W hile largely en-
grossed by the scenery and the conversation of my friends, I
nevertheless kept a sharp k)okout for birds and caught many an
interesting glimpse. An Audubon Warbler flew overhead, sing-
ing his flight song; another Audubon flew out from the extreme
tip of a pine after insects and returned to his perch, (|uite in the
manner of a flycatcher. On the edge of a gravel bar stood a row
of fish-eating Mergansers with their prominent white breasts
gleaming in the morning sun. One that was in the water caught
a trout ; on the instant, a passing gull with a fierce swoop made

Birds of the YcUmvsione Park

63

the fisher drop liis catch, picked it uj) hiinselt', and flew off with
it, screaming in triumph over his ill-gotten feast.

Pelicans were fre<iuently seen swimming across the river like
ships under full sail : and they api)eared still more stately when
sweeping across the sky. It is an accepted fact that the \\'hite
Pelican, unlike his cousin, the Brown Pelican, docs not usually
di\ e for his fish. Yet I had the pleasure of seeing one dive that
morning. It was not a rough-and-tumble from above, but a
neat, clean dive from the surface of the river. Another interest-
ing di\er was a Barrow (lolden-eye. There were a good many
of these ducks on the river, and one dove from a flock near shore
where the water was so clear that every motion could be seen.
The bird moved slightly forward in diving the five feet from sur-
face to bottom, then remained almost motionless except for the
sidewisc motion of the head as he fed on the bottom.

Hayden Valley, a tract of open, rolling prairie, exhibited such
birds as arc characteristic of the open country. Savannah Spar-
rows and other small kinds were noted, but the hawks, because
so easily seen, were the dominant bird feature of the landscape.
The larger ones were usually Swainsons, and varied from a light
shade to a dark phase that was almost black; indeed, the darker
birds seemed to predominate. All were equally tame and equally
inoft'ensivc. The smaller hawks were Marsh Hawks, easily
identified by the conspicuous white patch above the tail and their
habit of flying low, usually just skimming the tops of the bushes
and tall grass in their search for mice. One suddenly shot to
earth without apparent halting; another flew by with a mouse
in its claws. But although the greatest mouse catcher of all the
hawks, the Marsh Hawk does not disdain a frog or a small
snake. They were noted in all the open parts of the Park, and
it seemed immaterial whether the hunting grounds were down
at 6000 feet or high up on bare mountain-sides and above timber
line ; but they were not to be seen over the forested sections.

During the latter part of the drive, while passing through
lodgepole pine forest, flashes of brilliant color came from West-
ern Tanagers. They were seen darting here and there through
the trees or flying across the river; and at other times their
voices could be heard in the pine-tops.

On reaching Canyon Camp I found it remarkably well situated
scenically, with plenty of birds in the immediate vicinity. In
fact I noted Juncos, Purple Finches, Brewer Blackbirds and

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Rn nsevelt Wild Life Bulletin

Rocky Mountain Jays amongst the tents, while Ravens and
Gulls frequently passed overhead. But as at the other points of
great scenic interest in the Park, before looking for birds I paid
homage to the other natural wonders. Here it was the Grand
Canyon, and the Falls! In writing and talking about the Yellow-
stone it is the custom to lay so much emphasis on the geysers
that the Canyon is often lost sight of. But to the majority of
sight-seers the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone is one of the
most thrilling scenes in Nature. W hile not so vast and awe-
inspiring as the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, it is still large
enough to command the wondering admiration of all. Its beauty
combined with the i)crfcctly proportioned falls at its head is en-
thralling— language fails ^ — one stands silent before its
si)lendor.

But even while I was viewing the Canyon, I became conscious
of birds enlivening it ; for here was a remarkable collection of
nesting Ospreys. While usually breeding singly in isolated locali-
ties (fig. 19), here the combination of fish and ideal nesting sites has
attracted a great many pairs. Finding the slender pinnacles
rising from the depths of the Canyon safe and convenient, the
Ospreys had taken possession, building their nests on the flat-
topped spires. Year after year the same sites are occupied, pre-
sumably by the same pairs, for the birds are believed to mate
for life. Here was an instance of a bird changing his nesting
habits to suit conditions ; about Yellowstone Lake, as in many
localities outside the Park, the Osprcy still keeps to the ances-
tral custom of building his nest on the top of a tall tree. But
between the Lower Fall and Inspiration Point, a distance of about
two miles, it was estimated that there were twenty-five nests on the
rock pinnacles. The majority of the Ospreys arrive from the
south in early May and begin inspecting all available sites ; then
return to their old homes, seeming to say, "the old place is the best
after all" ; and begin repairing the annually renovated nests.
The nests are built of sticks larger than one's finger, piled to-
gether in a mass often five feet or more in diameter. Upon this
platform are placed coarse grasses, pine needles, pieces of bark,
and other rubbish. Perhaps a low circlet of tough, crooked
sticks is placed about the space to be occupied as the nest proper.
The three or four eggs vary greatly in color, from almost white,
through tawny, to a reddish ground color with markings of
brown or lavender, sometimes lightly and again heavily blotched.
Incubation commences early in June and continues four weeks,

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

65

I'Jiuth 1)11 Iliiiines

Fig. 19. The Osprey nest near the Park highway between Gardiner and Mammoth
Hot Springs. The nests are conspicuous, as they are perched on rock pinnacles
or on the tops of trees. In the Yellowstone the Ospreys have been miscalled
Eagles.

il

66

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

I have observed that after the young were hatched, they re-
mained upon the nest from forty to fifty days, being fed during
that time on bits of trout given them usually by the mother.
During the incubation and early life of the young, the mother
was almost constantly upon the nest. The male bird did the
hunting and brought the fish to her and she tore it to bits for
the nestlings and for herself. The home life of the Osprey was
very pretty to watch; not only were the parents devoted to
each other and to the young, but the little Ospreys themselves
were models of deportment. When the father came flying in
with dinner, there was none of that hurly-burly of the usual
bird nest, but each small bird took his bit of fish from the
mother's bill quietly and in an orderly way. Should an enemy
approach, the old birds set up a shrill whistle, to which the young
ones responded by throwing themselves flat on the floor of the
nest. There they would remain, even for hours, until reassured
by the cluck of the mother. At such times they could be picked
up and placed in any position without a sign of life save the
occasional winking of an eye.

The Ospreys are very inofTensive, seldom even showing fight
amongst themselves. Seemingly they never molest the smaller
birds, some varieties of which even build their nests in the inter-
stices of the big birds' "wood pile." On several occasions an
Osprey was seen to plunge for a fish within a few feet of a brood
of Mallards without either the mother or the ducklings showing
the slightest alarm. As the Osprey lives entirely on fish, which
he captures himself, his feet and his plumage are especially
adapted to the work. The plumage is dense and very oily ; the
feet are strong, with long talons and peculiar pads to help hold
the fish. The trout are always grasped with one foot in front
of the other and carried through the air head foremost. Appar-
ently it is immaterial whether the fish is right side up or not, but
he always goes head first, at any rate. Often the struggles of a
large fish makes it a question whether he will go at all. The
Osprey is strong and sometimes carries quite large fish for long
distances.

Besides affording such intimate studies of the Osprey, the
Canyon was good to the ornithologist in another way. From its
rim, as the Violet-green Swallows flew past below us, the beau-
tiful, glossy green and purple tints of their backs, rareh' looked
at from above, were distinctly seen and admired. These Swal-

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

67

lows were abundant all through the Park but it was only under
such peculiar conditions that the purple and green could be
clearly distinguished.

After my friends left, I moved over to the hotel. This was
truly magnificent, not built of rough logs and rustic material like
Old Faithful Inn, but still well conceived to fit in with its sur-
roundings. The striking feature was the lounge, a spacious
room with a series of large plate glass windows that afforded a
glorious panorama of forest, meadow and mountain range.

Under the hotel eaves, the Cliff Swallows built their retort-
shaped nests of mud, the process being most interesting to
watch. Most of us have noticed many of these Swallows about
muddy places, alighting for a moment with wings raised high
above their backs, then flying away to their nests in a steady
stream of birds. And yet how few of us are aware of what they
are doing, — collecting pellets of mud for their nests, and flying
swift and straight to put them in place. Industrious as we know
most birds to be, it gives us new respect for their abilities to
watch this swift journeying of a pair of Cliff' Swallows to and
fro for a week or ten days before the nest is done. Here in the
Yellowstone the first Clift' Swallows arrive during the last days
of May ; spend a few days repairing their nests and lining them
with grass, feathers and other soft materials, and raise their
young during June and July; so that by August 10 the young
birds are on the wing. On cold mornings after frosty nights I
have often found the Swallows lined up on the telephone wires,
waiting for the sun to warm them. In the same way they lined
up on late August mornings two or three times just before leav-
ing for the south. Small wonder that their disappearance was
considered so mysterious in the old days before migration was
understood so well as it is to-day ! Certainly the long, difficult
migration and the i-eturn each year to the same places, show that
a bird's sense of location is well developed. Yet on one of the
barns near the Canyon where there was a Cliff Swallow nest in
the peak of the gable at one end and no nest at the other, this
swallow was often seen to carry food up to the wrong gable.
These birds usually breed in a large colony and must have some
way of locating their own nest ; yet birds with food were often
seen to fly up to a nest only to be driven away by the rightful occu-
pant! Sometimes Cliff Swallow nests are found here in their
original setting on some cliff where the overhang protects them

68

Roosevelt IVild Life BuUetin

(see fig". 20) ; but such places are not numerous in the Park at
the present time.

A bird that was seen occasionally about each of the hotels,
except at Mammoth, and still more frecjuently about the camps,
was the Rocky Mountain Jay (pi. i and fig. 22), which I had first
met with at Apollinaris Spring. Many were the tales told of its
familiarity about camps. ]\Irs. Florence Merriam Bailey ex-
presses it well when she writes: "As it lives all the year in the
deep coniferous forests where it is rarely shot at, it seems to
regard the few campers who comes to its preserves as fellcjw
foresters who should naturally share their living with it." At
one point my notes read; "As I went into camp, a Camp Robber
and a pine squirrel decided to camp at the same time I did. By
a curious coincidence we all selected exactly the same camping
ground. 'Hello,' thinks I, 'Here's where I will have to watch
my bacon pretty closely!' I did; I saved the bacon and the fry-
ing pan, but the Camp Robber, or the squirrel, got the bacon
rind." When the Jays come about camp this way, they can be
easily tamed and persuaded to take food from the fingers. One,
so tamed, got the habit of coming at dawn for breakfast; if the
camp did not happen to be awake, he would commence to call
softly. Having attracted someone's attention he would begin a
low chatter, as if stating his strictly confidential opinion that
"it was a very poor season for bird feed but that now he hoped
conditions would be better." He finally got so well acquainted
tliat if he did not sec his favorite among the campers, he would
go and hunt up his friend and accompany him back to camp. He
seemed to prefer cold leaked beans, and would gulp down from
one to three before he thought to fly off and cache the next, but
a piece of bacon rind would keep him bus}- for a long time.

The flight of the Rocky Mountain Jay is short, usually merely
from tree to tree. At the first part of the flight he flaps his wings
and is carried up at a slight angle, then he sails down again at
about the same angle. While on the ground, instead of walking
they go along with rather long hops. In spite of coming about
camp so fearlessly, a breeding pair are so adept at hiding their
nest that it is seldom found. When I approached a tree with a
nest in it, the birds left the nest as I came in sight and without a
sound made their way upward limb by limb to the top of the
pine where they would sit in apparent ignorance of the nest
below. These Jays build in late IMarch or early April, making

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

69

Photo III/ /;. ft. Wiinrii

Fig. 20. In some localities in the Park the Cliff Swallows slick their mud retort-
shaped nests against a cliff or under a ledge- like their ancestors. More up-to-
date birds nest under the ea\cs of huildings.

70

nseveit Wild Life Bulletin

Birds of the Yelloivstonc Park

71

their nests of grass and weed stems, in a crotch of a tall pine,
half-way up to the top and about thirty feet from the ground.
About three gray-white eggs, blotched with brown, constitute a
clutch. The young are often hatched out into a snowy world
and are flying about early in May.

The Jay was like the Nutcracker in having a whole repertoire
of cries and calls, mostly strident and harsh ; but he had one
quite pretty whistle, "ker-wheet, wheet, wheet, wheet," which
he was rather chary about using. \\'hen hungry his notes ac-
quired a coaxing or wheedling tone.

A close relative of the Jay is the Magpie (fig. 23), a striking
bird peculiar to the \\'est. He is quite common all through the
Park from mid-September to the first of the following May, but
during the breeding season he disappears. Where does he go?
He breeds high in the mountains to the south of us and also on
the plains surrounding the Park, but whichever way he goes, he
is absent just when the tourists want to see him.

Many delightful days were spent at the Canyon and many
wild animals besides the birds were enjoyed; chipmunks, squir-
rels, and woodchucks were everywhere, and extremely tame !
Mule deer were frequently seen from the windows, and often
bears. Yet the real bear spectacle was back in a retired opening
in the woods where the garbage was thrown out for them ; there,
black bears were common and the much rarer grizzlies were
numerous enough. And once or twice, when well back from the
tourist route, I had a view of some majestic elk.

BIRDS FROM GRAND CANYON TO MAMMOTH HOT
SPRINGS, BY WAY OF TOWER FALL

While at the Canyon Hotel, I was unexpectedly called back to
Mammoth, which was disappointing, as I had planned for a slow
trip in, and much "birding" along the way. Later, however, I was
able to return and make a leisurely study of the birds and flowers
of Mount Washburn, the forest and the open country.

A regretful farewell was given the Canyon and we boarded an
auto-stage in the afternoon of a beautifully clear day. As the stage
was loading up a White-crowned Sparrow was heard singing his
merry song, followed by another down the road. After going about
a mile, the long, open meadow of Cascade Creek was entered. Here
a small pond, at the time not much more than a mud-hole, had
proved an attractive nesting site for a Spotted Sandpiper, whose

72

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

offspring, two little balls of down, pattered along the shore, their
twinkling legs moving so fast they could hardly be seen. A Swain-
son Hawk of so dark a color as to seem almost black flew across
the meadow, while a Marsh Hawk swept low over the grass in
never-ending search for his prey — the unlucky meadow mice dodg-
ing through their grassy runways.

To ni}^ great pleasure I discovered a female Kocky Mountain
Pine Gro.'^beak, a large gray bird with a lawny wash, which sat
(|uietly on the lowest liml) of a j)ine and allowed the car to pass
almost underneath. .'Sometimes this (|uiet, gentle bird is met with
in the heavy growtii of lodgepole ])ine alfove 7500 feet, and in the
spruce forests up to 9000 feet. It is not abundant; but, as if in
compensation, those I encountered were unusually tame and unsus-
picious. It is a summer resident of these cool mf)untain heights.
When the female gets ready to nest she picks out a pine, or Engel-
mann spruce, and constructs a platform of twigs and branchlets
about twenty-five feet from the ground. On this platform a neat
little nest of finer materials is arranged, and in it are usually laid
four greenish blue eggs. While his mate is brooding, from .some
elevated perch the male often pours out a sweet, rolling song that
is delightfully melodious. So accompli.shed a musician is this
roseate bird that, outside the Park, he is .sometimes caught and kept
in a cage as a songster; but that is de])lorable. To hear him at his
best is to come upon the unconscious minstrel on a still, dewy morn-
ing in one of the lovely meadows that abound along our Rocky
Mountain streams. I know of no finer melody, nor one so well
suited to the hour and the enclianting scenery which this beautiful
.songster chooses for his setting. Not often does one see the brilliant
red, full-plumaged males; they are much more apt to be tinged with
yellowish and much less beautiful and striking against the dark
green foliage (see pi. i). While a few of the Pine (irosbeaks
remain all summer, they are so much more numerous in spring and
fall thai I had tliouj^ht f)f them as migrants, and for a long time I
found it difficult to regard them as summer inhabitants as well.

After we left the meadows well behind and began ascent through
a forest of lodgei)ole i)ine, spruce and white-barked pine near Dun-
raven Pass, Nutcrackers and Rocky Mountain Jays were observed
to be quite common, but usually only one or two were seen at a
time. Sometimes the Nutcrackers were quiet and then again they
flew noisily past, or scolded vigorously from the tip of a tall spruce
tree.

Birds of the YeUozvstoue Park

73

As higher and higlier altitudes were reached the magnificent view
to the south began to unfold. I'.veryone was in ecstacies, and rightly
so, for on a clear, bright day there are few scenes as lovely as this.
The unbroken forest at one's feet leads away to Cascade Creek
meadow, farther on to Hayden Valley, and finally in the far distance
to charming Yellowstone Lake with its glancing sheen. To the east
the mountains in front of us extended to the very brink of that
wonderful chasm, the Cirand Canyon of the Yellowstone ; to the
west extended the same range beyond our view. The slopes of
these mountains became more and more open as the eye followed
up toward the crests; and the groves of graceful spruces and well-
formed white pines were interspersed with lovely mountain parks,
dotted and spangled with the yellow and white and blue and dark
purple of buttercups, white phlox, forget-me-nots, purple asters,
and deep blue lupines, often making great masses of glorious colors.
Above all rose the dark, frowning clitTs of ancient lava flows from
the old volcano of which Abnmt Washburn's peak is the highest
remaining fragment.

Across the open parks and intervening groves of. trees swept a
large Red-tail Hawk. I could not see what game this hawk was
hunting, but apparently it was not grouse, for almost at the same
time an undisturbed Richardson Grouse and seven little fluf¥y chicks
were noted in the grass. The mother Grouse flew up into a small
sapling, and from there clucked loudly to her brood, while the
youngsters tried their best to fly up to her, one at a time, on very
shaky httle wings.

After crossing Dunraven Pass the road wound up through a
forest of fir and spruce where Mountain Chickadees and Pink-sided
Juncos were heard at intervals, as usual in the forested areas, and
Black-headed Jays showed themselves occasionally. Soon the char-
acter of the country changed, the road leading out onto a ridge
and disclosing a magnificent view to the northward. The beautiful
open valley of Antelope Creek lay immediately below, and the bare,
wind-swept heights of Specimen Ridge and Amethyst Mountain far
beyond, with loftier peaks on the horizon in Montana. A pretty
little fox darted away from the ro«d where he had been hunting
chipmunks, and rushed pell-mell for the shelter of the willow brush
down along Antelope Creeek. On the open part of the ridge were
a few birds, chiefly Nutcrackers and Rocky Mountain Jays, and at
one point there were four Pipits — hardy residents of the stormy
upper slopes and mountain crests — running with nodding heads

74

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

through the short grass. Across the valley, high up on the distant
ridge, twenty-one elk were feeding quietly in a grassy park sur-
rounded by pine timber. With our field glasses we could plainly
distinguish among them a noble bull elk with five-point horns almost
completely developed, although the velvety skin probably was still
adhering.

Below us, over the meadows along Antelope Creek, Marsh Hawks
to the number of an even dozen were coursing to and fro on their
tireless mouse hunting, while scattered through the grass beside the
road were the usual familiar ground-haunting birds.

At the platform near Tower Creek, where the car stopped to
allow the passengers to view the exquisitely beautiful Tower Fall,
was another grouse walking quietly and unalarmed through the
mixed groves of fir and aspen. Farther on, a mile north of the
Fall, near a small pond on which a pair of Mallards were swimming,
two statuesque mule deer watched the car go by.

On the road in front of the Tower Fall Ranger Station we scared
up a flock of thirty-two Brewer Blackbirds that were already gath-
ering, preliminary to their southward migration. In the heavy
timber through which the road ascended Crescent Hill, we heard
the strident voices of jays and Nutcrackers. Beyond the summit
there was a steady descent westward through more or less open,
rolling country with groves of quaking aspen, all the way to Mam-
moth Hot Springs. Most of the hills had their northern slopes
heavily wooded with fine large Douglas firs. On emerging from
Crescent Hill gulch a Sparrow Hawk was seen poised in one spot
on quivering wings some twenty feet above the ground; just beyond,
a Bluebird was hovering in much the same way, and doubtless for
a similar purpose, over a little level of grass interspersed thickly
with lupines. In a grove of aspens, two more handsome bucks were
quietly "chewing the cud," while far out on the prairie was seen
the white flaring of speeding antelope.

On the heights to the west of the Blacktail Creek valley, seven
of these pronghorn antelope were observed lying on an open hillside
far above the road, watching the passing cars with evident curiosity.
With the descent into the drier and hotter lower altitudes of the
Gardiner valley, birds became fewer, or less noticeable. But just
before the final pitch downward, at a point where the road passed
through a small, sunny gulch whose crumbling, rocky walls spread
just right to catch the warm western sun, I discovered a pair of
small brown Rock Wrens, shyly watching us. Though w'rens by

Birds of the Vcllozcstoiic Park

75

every pose and niolinn, tliey differed widely frfnii the eastern House
Wren, being doited instead of barred on the l)ack, and showing a
striking black crescent on the spread tail. A wonderful little musi
cian is the Rock W ren, his song ringing out cheerily amidst tin
bleak, rocky wastes. These wrens are birds of the lower altitudes,
ordinarily; but on this rocky slope they had found a cosy place
between the angular rocks for a home, two thousand feet above the
usual limit for the species. This was not a record height, however,
for on similar sunny slopes of slide rock other pairs were later found
clear up to timber line.

At the mouth of Lava Creek a beaver ])()nd attracted both Tree
and Clift' Swallows which went circling and whirling over the water
near the beaver lodge. From the water weeds came the mocking,
cackling call of that weird sounding dweller among the reeds, a
Carolina Rail, who was now well hidden by the rank vegetation,
but who sometimes comes north in May before his reeds and rushes
have got well started. As we watched, we were lucky enough to
see this unusual little bird emerge from his protecting cover and go
swimming in and out with his head bobbing rapidly up and down
after the manner of his larger cousin, the Coot.

Descending to the Gardiner River bridge, we returned momen-
tarily to some of the birds of the low* country, but as we climbed
from the canyon up to Mammoth, an Audubon Warbler and a
Nutcracker welcomed us back to the white pines about the buildings.
W'hen the Mammoth Hotel came in view I thought the interesting
sights of the trip were certainly over. lUit no! A mother black
bear and her three cubs (one black and the others brown) ambled
slowly across the road and climbed up a large pine set in the middle
of a green lawn. At first I could not guess what they wanted in
that particular tree. But as we drew near the mystery was
explained, for there sat our four bears on a limb half-way up, full
in the falling spray from the nozzle of a large sprinkler! The cubs
were highly hilarious over their artificial shower bath, and e\en the
mother was e\ idently enjoying the novel experience hugely.

THE BIRDS OF MOUNT WASHBURN

]\Iount \\'ashburn is in the north central part of Yellowstone
Park, rising from the Lamar \"alley on the north at an altitude of
6500 feet, and from the Park plateau on the south at an altitude of
7500 feet, with the top a little over 10,000 feet above sea level.
Its slopes are well watered, with frecjuent springs on all sides,

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

although it hoasts no large streams, and the Yellowstone River
sweeps around its base on the southeast, east and northeast in a
stupendous canyon. Much of the north side of the mountain is
bare of trees except for detached groves of fir near its foot, lodge-
pole pine and quaking aspens on the slopes, and white-barked pine
and spruce near timber line at about 9800 feet. The southern slope
starts from the lodgepole pine plateau at the base, and the slope
itself is covered with a heavy growth of grasses and flowers inter-
rupted by groves of Douglas fir, spruce, and again white-barked pine
near timber line. Above timber line the slopes are steep and formed
of volcanic breccias and conglomerates. So diversified are the
slopes of the mountain that except for the water birds of Yellow-
stone Lake, every variety of bird in the Park can be found here.
Two other advantages that it possesses are the rather contradictory
ones of being remote and yet easily accessible. All its different
levels are crossed by a road that is a remarkable piece of engineer-
ing, leading up its southern face to the extreme top, then over the
northwest .shoulder and down a gradual slope to Tower Fall. In
spite of this accessibility, the mountain is wild and secluded because
the travelers are always in a hurry and seldom get away from the
road.

Nor are the birds and the wonderful scenery the only attractions;
for the slopes are covered with flowers of every shape and hue, in
spite of the popular conception of a mountain as being a bleak,
wintry place where only rocks and snowbanks can exist. There are
many sheltered nooks and ravines that the winds seldom reach, and
the very presence of inexhaustible snowbanks above them guaran-
tees a supply of water even when the plains and meadows below
are parched. The great advantage that the mountain flowers do
enjoy is the sun; the air is pure and rarified and permits the hot
sun rays to reach the flowers without being cut off by the lower
layers of air that are so often filled with haze or smoke clouds in
more settled areas. Then too, these mountain-tops are less often
covered by clouds. Here, then, we have the conditions of hot sun,
abundant moisture, and clean, pure air, against the disadvantages
of a short season and cold nights. That the flowers are able to
adjust themselves to these disadvantages is shown by the very fact
that they grow in abundance and blossom luxuriantly. Often the
slopes of Mt. \\'ashburn will be a mass of Indian pink, fringed gen-
tian, lupine or aster, when the \egetation of the lower open slopes
is dry and withered. To be sure, there are numerous other alpine

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

77

I'lioto 1)1/ Alhii t Ildiiiistcrl

Fig. 23. Young Afagpics. The Yellowstone Park lies at too high an ele-
vation to harbor many Magpie nesis, luit occasionall\' one is found in
the top of a thick clump <.)f willow hu'^hes.

I'll o to by M. P. Sliiinter

Fig. 24. Sometimes a very tame hut alert Richardson Grouse is seen in the
grass as one's automobile passes within a few feet.

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

79

flowers here and the visitor will be delighted to find many of these
in full bloom through July and early August.

The lowest belt, containing groves of fir and aspen, with open
grassy parks, will be found to be a favorite home of the wood-
peckers. Here especially do the Williamson Sapsuckers choose to
live. The males are among the dandies of the woodpecker tribe.
The female is daintily clothed, but so dif¥erently that for many years
she was considered a dif¥erent species (see pi. i and figs. 25, 26).
It remained for Dr. H. W. Henshaw to discover the ornithologists'
mistake by finding the two mated and raising a family.

These sapsuckers are quite common, arriving about the first of
May and remaining four months, during which time they mate,
build their nests, and rear their young. The courtship is a curious
performance, although quite typical of the woodpecker family. The
sapsucker has no song and therefore must invent something to take
its place. He is resourceful; he hies himself to some bare, dead
limb that he has found suited to his purpose and there hammers
out a series of high and low notes that must seem a wonderful
melody to his lady. He is reported to sometimes utilize tin roofs
and rain pipes for his drumming, but here in the solitudes of Mt.
Washburn such modern improvements are happily out of the ques-
tion. Yet it is the sapsucker's "dancing" that is most curious. It
may be witnessed during the early mornings in the early part of
May, sometimes on a horizontal limb but more often on the bare
upright trunk of a dead fir; and it is performed by the male although
the female often accompanies him. There is no music except a
soft, low cooing from the suitor; but the birds have their own way
of keeping time and when they dance together they keep their move-
ments in perfect accord. There is not much motion of the feet ;
but the male moves his body up and down, bowing his head at the
same time, possibly so that his lady can see the beautiful iridescence
on his back. As he straightens up again his bright red necktie flashes
out. He lowers his wings and bends from side. to side with dainty,
sinuous motions, his head and neck constantly moving up and down
and in and out. Then he spreads his wings (and tail, if he is
on a horizontal branch) and bows; and all through the dancing the
soft, low cooing is heard.

The female is undoubtedly a little coquettish and does not believe
in being too easily won, but after a time they pick out a quaking
aspen with a trunk seven to nine inches in diameter in which they
excavate a room. The male selects a spot five to eight feet from the

8o

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

ground and marks out a circle about an incli and a half across. If
satisfied, he goes ahead cutting the circle dee])er and then scales out
the bark. After that the real hard work begins ; about four times a
day from a half-hour to an hour at a time they dig into the solid wood,
the male doing possibly a little more than half the work. The hole
runs into the center and then downwards a few inches, where it
is enlarged sufficiently to make a comfortable chamber for Madame
Sapsucker and her brood. From ten days to two weeks are con-
sumed in preparing the cavity. No nesting material is used; the
chamber is ready for use as soon as hollowed out. There is some
variation in the length of time before nesting begins, but usually
five beautifvd white eggs are laid on the clean chips during the latter
part of May or early in June. The young are born naked, with eyes
closed, but develop so rapidly they are ready to leave the nest in
from two to three weeks. The male is a most exemplary husband,
having done more than half the excavating, half the incubating, and
possibly more than half the feeding of the young.

In the fir and aspen belt I also found Red-shafted Flickers,
Mountain Chickadees, and Rocky IMountain Nuthatches nesting in
much the same way as the sapsuckers except that the chickadees
and nuthatches were rather more apt to use a fir than an aspen.
The Mountain Bluebirds and the Tree Swallows were al.so present
in these localities, for they both appropriated old woodpecker holes
for their nests. It is a pretty sight to see the bluebirds hunting for
a vacant house in the spring. The male appears to act as scout ;
he reconnoiters, finds a w'oodpecker hole, and then fetches his wife
to look at it, no doubt dilating upon the great advantages of the
location. She hovers in front for a few minutes, inspecting the
hole, the tree and the surroundings carefully, and if they do not
suit her, will have nothing to do with the place. Then the husband
shows what a good fellow he is ; he does not sulk, but immediately
flies off to find another place over which he becomes iust as enthu-
siastic. When she is satisfied, they both begin bringing nesting
materials to line the cavity ; and it is likely that she arranges most
of the furnishings.

The Mountain Bluebird does not confine himself to these low
altitudes, but pushes rapidly up the heights after the melting snow
until sometimes he overdoes it and has to return. After the nest-
ing season, the Bluebirds go in flocks to the summits, doubtless to
take advantage of the grasshopper feast there spread out for them.
They are not alone in this either, for the Robins do the same thing.

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

8i

The Robins enter the Park al)out tlie middle of March and l)v June
first are at the 8500-foot level ; the White-crow ned S])arro\vs arrive
about INIay hrst and in a month are even with the Rollins; and in
late June attain the 9000-foot le\el. Tn other words they follow
up just behind the melting snow. This early vertical migration is
most interesting. If the bird student is inclined to mountaineer-
ing, here is his chance; elsewhere he must cover long distances north
and south to ob.serve migration and its related movements, but here
he simply moves up and down the mountainsides, noting birds and
conditions at each levd. The birds evidently follow up the melting
snowbanks for the same reason that their brothers go farther north.
But why? Is it a matter of food? Do these alpine heights and the
boreal regions attract a peculiar kind of insect or give them a special
flavor? In the case of the Bluebirds and the Robins, as we have
just seen, it was apparently the grasshoppers ; but why were the
"hoppers" of the mountain-tops more attractive than those of the
lowlands? Were there more of them because fewer birds? Hence,
are birds pushed out of the lowlands — and possibly the tropics —
by competition ? Bird students commonly ascribe to the influences
of the glacial epoch, and the resulting periodic changes in food
supply, the inception of the migratory habit. Here we have a simi-
lar movement, and whether due to food conditions we can only
conjecture.

Still, it is hard to account otherwise for the early movement up
the mountains; each of the belated storms drives down hundreds of
birds that have sought the heights. Particularly is this true of the
Juncos, Pipits, and Horned Larks. In the fall many of the birds
are just as reluctant to leave as they were eager to reach these
places in the spring; the Coot, driven down from its colder resorts,
stays in the Lamar A'alley ponds until they actually freeze over;
and the Pipits when forced down ofl:' the mountains manage to
linger a little longer under the lee of the river banks. Neither
species leaves the region until its food is killed by the severe frosts.
The Juncos and White-crowned Sparrows also remain through the
early storms of fall as long as there is food obtainable. If there is
any bird that we might accuse of being a vagrant without love of
home, it would be the Brewer Blackbird after the nesting season;
and yet this bird remains until the weather gets so cold as to force
it to roost on the warm ridgepoles of the houses at Mammoth to
keep its toes from freezing. Regardless of food there is surely an
irresistible attraction in these mountains; we all feel it, and why
should not the more sensitive birds have it in even greater degree !

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

On the fir slopes of Mt. Washburn, along with the Chickadees
and the other nuthatches, is found the Red-breasted Nuthatch. A
dainty little midget it is, seen running up and down the tree trunks
and hunting industriously for its insect prey. If not satisfied with
its first search, it starts again and goes all over the trunk once more.
The nuthatches differ from the other tree trunk foragers here in
depending entirely upon their feet in clinging to the bark of trees,
instead of bracing with the tail as do the woodpeckers and true
Creeper. No nests of the Red-breasted Nuthatch have been reported
in the Park, but it is one of the permanent residents. In the spring,
before there are many of the summer birds present, it is as cheering
as a chickadee. You will often hear a "yeng-yeng — yeng-yeng,"
and on glancing up, find a small flock of these busy little fellows
right before you. In March, when the hibernating insects and their
eggs have been pretty well gleaned from the tree trunks, this nut-
hatch and his companions the Mountain Chickadees, may be found
busily catching ants on the ground at some spot the sun has warmed.
No doubt these two little birds are often hard put to it to get their
living during the rigorous winter weather; but they are always
bright and cheery and always on the go. In spring the Red-breast
is often seen whirling around rapidly on a fir trunk like a pinwheel.
Can it be that the female is attracted by such antics?

Another habitant of these mountain forests is the Townsend
Solitaire, a singer par excellence, but like some other artists, chary
of being heard. When you are fortunate enough to hear him, you
have listened to a song you will never forget. He is a bird of the
wilds; and his strain, heard in the solitude of the somber forests,
or perhaps in the desolation of the songless autumn, stands apart in
your memory. All the solitaires, of which there are a dozen species,
mostly tropical birds, are wonderful singers ; and our bird, the
Townsend, ably represents his gifted family. Since a few individ-
uals remain all winter in the lowest parts of the Park, we must
accord this bird status as a permanent resident ; and one is very
ready to grant him the title of "mountaineer" when he is seen on
a bright morning taking his bath in a pool of snow-water caught in
some rocky basin.

Another songster of the fir timber, although more likely to be
found where the forest gives way to an open meadow than in the
deep woods, is the Ruby-crowned Kinglet, a tiny bird whose notes
are so loud and ringing that it is difficult to connect the two. A
novice may well spend many minutes craning his neck and straining

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

83

his eyes before discovering this mite of a musician. Tf he be asked
what he is looking for, he is Hkely to describe a bird as big as a
Crow, at least ! But once located, the notes are unforgetable and
this tiny songster of the tree-tops can be readily identified forever
after. If not singing, he can be told by his scolding chatter and
the peculiar lift of his wing as he industriously searches out his
prey.

At the other extreme, both of size and habitat, is the Richardson
Grouse. He is both large and a ground dweller. But he, too, lives
in the firs, although found in any woods, even to the boreal white
pine at timber line. Sometimes he wanders out into the open, but
he never gets very far from the shelter of the trees, to which he
quickly retreats in time of danger. Somewhat larger than the
Rufifed Grouse and of a general dark blue color, he can be confused
with no other bird here. When exploring the forest one often has
an opportunity to study him, for he has a way of sitting quite still,
craning his neck first one way, then the other, as long as he thinks
himself unobserved; but the instant he becomes convinced that he
is seen, ofif he goes on thunderous wings. While he has no rufif,
there is a sac on each side of the neck, ordinarily hidden by feathers,
that can be filled with air. In the spring mating period the air is
expelled from these sacs with a peculiar booming sound that can be
heard for a long distance. Although resident here, spending the
winter in the tops of evergreen trees, this grouse is not often seen
between November and March. Sometimes during heavy snow-
storms, he descends to the ground and tunnels into the soft snow
for protection. When skiing through the timber I have had one
jump up right under my skis from an unbroken expanse of snow,
a startling experience. The Richardson has many habits in common
with the Rufifed Grouse. Both nest on the ground, usually at the
foot of a tree or under a convenient bush. The Richardson's nest
is a rough afifair of grass, pine needles and leaves, and contains from
seven to ten creamy eggs speckled and blotched with brown. The
little chicks are hatched about July i and can run about quite
nimbly as soon as they are out of the shell. The mother takes good
care of them, but the father pays no attention whatever to his family.
During the summer the birds wander through the timber wherever
the supply of food calls them ; and in the fall they are frequently
found in the roads taking dust baths.

These mountain heights are good stations from which to note
the flight of birds. Although the migration routes across the Park

84

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletiti

ff)Il(nv the river valleys, still at times, especially in the fall when
the birds are j^oing south, an almost constant stream of birds can
be seen passing the summits. Through the summer, many bird*^
can be watched from above. Here again the peculiar and beautiful
tints of the swallows can be seen, the soaring flight of the Raven
can be contrasted with the flapi)ing of the Crow ; and sometimes,
even in daylight, a (Ireat Horned Owl may fly rapidly past with
steady, noiseless wing beats.

Snowy Owls .should be found resorting to the slopes of this
mountain in winter, but as yet none have been noted. No doubt
they come, but the deep snows and heavy drifts have prevented my
spending much time in observation there. But other winter birds
are common on the mountain slopes. The Waxwings wander
about Mt. Washburn at the very opening of winter; so also do large
mixed flocks of the three difYerent Rosy Finches — the Gray-
crowned, the Hepburn, and the Black. But the Rosy Finches might
be seen almost anywhere in the Park, especially at Mammoth Hot
Springs, when severe storms drive them down about the stables.
It is even possible that some remain in summer and nest above
timber line, but as yet their nests have not been found. However
there is one bird, the Pipit, that does nest and bring forth its young
upon these wind-swept heights. Often this hardy bird will arrive
and go to ne.sting so early that the last wintry storms will catch him
and force him to lower altitudes. Undismayed he will return to
the heights just as soon as the storm passes.

Wonder is often excited as to how these small birds can alight
on the soft snow without sinking in. To such a hardy little Xorth-
nian as the Pipit the problem is simple; for as his feet and legs
sink in, he spreads his wings to sustain his weight, and flutters about
for his food. \\ hen the warming sun consolidates the snow, he i-
all right again.

It is not often that an Eagle is seen on this mountain, but acro>s
the valley to the north lies a range of rugged granite i)eaks where
the (lolden I'.agle is fairly common, as eagles go. Along the north-
ern boundary of the Park there are at least five pairs of these noble
birds, far nobler and more deserving of the honor of being
America's national emblem than the robber Bald Eagle. Unlike the
Bald I^agle, the (lolden builds her nest on some ledge of the granite
cliffs, assembling a rough pile of sticks. If there was anything in
the old Spartan theory, then these birds should be hardy indeed.
Hatched in such a cradle during the cold and snow of early May,

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

85

the two eaglets thrive so well the only wonder is that the species
does not become more plentiful. It has no dangerous enemies but
man, the annoying Crows and Ravens serving only to keep this
lordly bird from becoming too proud and haughty.

INFLUENCE OF WARM SPRINGS AND GAS VENTS

ON BIRDS

In describing the effects of the warm springs on the birds, I am
letting that term include all the various agencies known as hot
springs, geysers, solfataras, and gas openings. The warm springs
act in three ways : on the one hand causing sickness and death,
and on the other, helping the birds directly by providing warmth
and moisture; and indirectly by furnishing conditions advantageous
to insects, and by keeping the streams and ponds open in winter.

It must be said that the direct loss of birds from the heat is very
small. While birds are all about the hot springs and gey.sers, they
are seldom caught in them. Yet, curious to relate, the first bird
record we have for the Yellowstone, from Mr. Langford's diary
of the discovery expedition in 1870, describes just such an accident.
Speaking of Prismatic Lake of the !^Iiddle Geyser Basin he says:
"As we stood on the margin of this immense lake a small fllock of
ducks came sailing" down as if to alight ; but as they skimmed the
water a few inches above the surface, they seemed to scent danger,
and with rapid flapping of their wings, all except one arose into
the air. This one, in his descent, had gained too great an impetus
to check his progress, and came down into the water, and his frantic
efforts to arise again were futile."

Many of the openings on the Mammoth Hot Springs formation
and in other parts of the Park, give out carbonic acid gas, which
cpiickly proves deadly to any birds that get into it. Odorless and
not directly poisonous, it kills by suffocation, shutting off the neces-
sary supply of oxygen. These openings are usually the old tubes,
or craters, of extinct springs, and the gaseous emanation is the last
effort of the dying spring. The death list of birds years ago became
so great that the largest and deadliest openings were covered with
wire netting. It has been assumed that the birds sought these open-
ings for warmth, and no doubt in some cases the warm vapor might
have some attraction ; but in other places there is very little, if any,
warmth. At the worst of the "caves" there is considerable water
trickling down the rocks, and now that the opening below is covered
the birds regularly resort to the water-covered rock above to drink

86

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

and bathe; so it would seem that the water might have enticed some
of the victims to tlieir death. Another attractif)n is the insect hfe
which flourishes near the caves, some insects at least being appar-
ently unaffected by the gas; and no doubt some of the birds followed
the insects into the openings and were overcome.

The caves catch most of their victims during the cold spring and
fall migrations, which no doubt led to the idea that it was w^armth
which attracted them ; but it is now thought probable that the birds
were simply seeking a i)rotecting nook or cranny as they do
elsewhere.

The remains of the victims disaj)pear very rapidly and it has
been suggested that this might be due to sulphurous acid in the
gases. But sulphurous acid has a villainous odor and it is the odor-
less gases that appear to be most deadly. Undoubtedly the water
found in these openings does in some cases contain acid, and in
others alkaline matter ; and it seems probable that these acids and
alkalies in solution, together with the excessive moisture, cause the
rapid decomposition.

Sometimes these gas caves afiford records of birds whose presence
had not before been suspected. A .specimen of the Calaveras War-
bler once found there dead, is the only Park record of this bird
(T. .S. Palmer, '07) ; and the first Townsend ^^'arbler to be reported
was picked up at Stygian Cave, though this species has since been
found in fair numbers elsewhere in the Park. The species that
sufifers most at the gas openings is the Pink-sided Junco, no doubt
becau.se this is the most abundant of the birds that frequent the old
evergreen-covered formation, and also because it is a ground-loving
bird. The list of birds found dead from this cause includes the
Magpie, Clark Nutcracker, Cassin Purple Finch, Pine .Siskin, Junco,
Western Chipping .Sparrow, Green-tailed Towhee, \\ estern Tana-
ger. Warbling \'ireo, Audubon Warbler, Townsend Warbler, Cal-
averas Warbler, Macgillivray Warbler, Rocky Mountain Creeper,
Rocky Mountain and Red-breasted Nuthatches, INIountain Chicka-
dee, Townsend Solitaire, Audubon Hermit Thrush and Western
Robin (cf. Mearns, '03).

There are some poisonous springs and deposits in the Park, but
so far as is known they have had no bad effects upon the birds.

That the birds do seek the neighborhood of thermal springs for
warmth alone is an undoubted fact. During cold, raw days in
springtime many species are drawn about both springs and geysers.
One cold morning a Say Phoebe was perched all huddled up in

Birds of the Yellozvsione Park

87

the steam from the Black Growler at Norris. On a frosty morning
in May, with the thermometer at fifteen degrees above zero, no birds
at all could be found about Norris until we reached the meadows
along the Gibbon River. But these meadows were alive with
Robins, for they are underlaid and kept warm by hot springs. In
April and early May the birds about West Thumb congregate on
the hot springs formation in numbers. At Mammoth Hot Springs,
the long gentle slope and flats below Jupiter Terrace, kept warm by
the waters spreading over it, is a favorite resort for birds at all
seasons. In summer, the birds are attracted there by numerous
insects; in fall and winter, they go there for the warmth as well.
Wilson Snipe and Solitary Sandpipers halt there on their way south
and sometimes remain for weeks after their companions have
departed. In winter. Dippers and Mallards are found there. The
Dippers are such hardy, winter-enduring birds that it is doubtful
if the heat interests them except as it keeps the waters open and
insects available; but the Mallards evidently enjoy it, being seen
almost every clear afternoon basking, preening, and sleeping in the
genial warmth. All through December, January, February and
March of each year, the same group of Mallards may be seen there
every afternoon, and occasionally they remain all night.

In some bushes growing over this outflow, Song Sparrows build
their nests, higher by nearly a thousand feet than any others of
their species. The people whose business keeps them in the Park
all through the bleak, dreary winter have learned to look first for
the returning Robin and Bluebird and then for the Song Sparrow
as spring's harbingers ; and when they hear the plaintive cry of the
Killdeer and the "peet-weet" of the Sandpiper, they know that the
summer is surely coming at last. Both these waders come to this
formation first, and like the Song Sparrow find places on the slope
below Jupiter Terrace for their nests.

Birds often may be seen congregated near the hot springs and
geysers, evidently for their heat. I remember well, one bleak day
in November, making my way slowly up the valley towards the
Pelican Hot Springs. As I approached, a flock of twelve Mallards
rose from the ground northeast of the Springs, where the wind was
carrying the warm air ; and on nearer approach a Raven sprang up
from immediately beyond the cone of the main spring, and in doing
so flushed a Wilson Snipe from the ground a few feet beyond. No
reason could be found for such a mixture of birds except the one
of warmth, although I searched the ground diligently for any other

88

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

indication. On a frosty morning in June, three Mallards jumped
from the edge of Rijah Sjjring, so close that in rising they shot
up through the steam, much to their discomfort ; and a few days
later a Robin did the same thing at the Giantess Geyser while it
was in eruption !

But while the warm springs affect the birds directly through their
suf¥ocating gases and their pleasant warmth, their greatest influence
is probably indirect, by affording good breeding places for flies and
insects, and keeping the brooks and rivers open all winter. The
insects of the Jupiter Terrace slopes were doubtless instrumental
in bringing additional birds there; but continuous heat and the
breeding of insects are so closely connected that it is difficult to
separate the two as causes. Flies and other insects breed in large
numbers near the hot waters at all seasons, even in winter. When
out on snowshoes on a winter's day with the thermometer at zero,
I have often been astonished by the sight of flies and long-legged
insects skating around on top of the thin film of water running
away from a geyser. A thermometer held a quarter of an inch
from the water indicated the temperature of a summer day, and it
was often warmer still amid the rank vegetable growth that the
warm water induces. While the discovery of summer insects on a
snowshoe excursion outrages our sense of the fitness of things, the
birds accept them cheerfully wherever found, resorting to the for-
mations in numbers when the hunting is poor elsewhere. It is e\'en
possible that they prefer this hothouse food, as they come about
these places even in midsummer. The overflow from Jupiter Ter
race is an ideal place to study this bit of Nature's handiwork. The
water is cooled to the proper degree for the insects and is spread
out in a thin film through which the birds can easily wade; and
here in the early mornings before the insects are moving elsewhere,
birds of many species flock to the repast spread out as on a table
in a warm room for them. Later when the insects are active in
other places, the birds have no need for the warmth they enjoyed
in the morning. The Song Sparrows, Killdeers and Spotted Sand-
pipers, drawn principally by the warmth, find the insects an added
attraction ; and certainly the Water Ouzels and IMallards do not
pass them by. But in addition, there are many other species ;
Brewer Blackbirds in flocks of a dozen or more come here as early
as the middle of June, although it is fully a month later before they
appear in flocks elsewhere. Any time before mid-morning, hosts
of swallows may swing to and fro over this hunting ground picking

Birds of the Yclloivstone Park

89

up the flying insects that escape the ground searchers below. The
first automobiles always see numbers of birds at this point unless
the morning hai)pens to be cold and rainy. It is a particularly good
place for the bird lover; he will hear there the cheerful caroling
of the Robin, the soft warble of the l)luel)ird, the music of the Song
Sparrow, and the beautiful melody of the Green-tailed Towhee,
while no doubt there will be a Red-wing on the neighboring reser-
voir fence sounding a clear, ringing "o-ka-lee-e-e."

In the e\'ening, after the tourists have left the formation at
Mammoth, the birds move up there and are to be found in many
strange places. It seems curious to see wild ducks come flying in
to ponds whose shores lia\e been visited by hundreds of tourists
during the day. Many of the smaller I)irds will be found seeking
the hea\ V thickets on the edge of the formation for the night.

The most noticeable effect that the warm springs have on the
waterfowl is through keeping the streams open and free from ice
in winter, an interesting fact first noted by Mr. (Hiester A. Lindsley
and called to the writer's attention in 1898. This is particularly
striking in the Gardiner River. Here the warm waters from Mam-
moth Hot Springs find their way underground through Boiling
River into the Gardiner. Above the junction the Gardiner is
heavily covered with ice even where the water is quite swift;
below, ice does not form at all, and the stream is not only open
throughout the winter for the Mallard and (iolden-eye but also the
comparatively high temperature induces a superabundance of insect
and vegetable life.

Dippers resort to open parts of the Gardiner in numbers all
through the winter, making it an ideal place to study this remark-
able bird. There are numerous faxorite spots where one may see
him catch his food and hear him sing. Contrary to the usual custom
of other birds this bird sings here during the winter and early
spring, commencing about Thanksgiving Day. The song, being
loud, sweet and clear, is sure to command admiration from all.
Heard above the roar of the rapids, often during a heavy snowfall or
in the midst of a biting winter wind, it acquires additional charm by
the fact that except for this animated little chap the whole world
seems frozen. Living along these streams, now plunging into it
in pursuit of his insect prey along the bottom, now out on some
slippery rock into the keen, freezing air where he sits motionless,
except for the blinking of a very conspicuous white eyelid, how can
we reconcile our preconceived notions of a songbird with this hardy

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

midget? Why does he sing in winter? Nesting time does not begin
for him until the first of May. Never seen in flocks and rarely even
in pairs, it is difficult to determine just when they do mate. They
spend a great deal of time building their nest, and if the first one
is not satisfactory they will tear it out and begin again ; so perhaps
they mate in the singing season and spend a month or two getting
their nest to suit them. I^lsewhere the Dipper is recorded as sing-
ing throughout the year, but in the Yellowstone I have never heard
it in summer.

Since the hot water keei)s it open all winter, the Gardiner River
is peculiarly adapted to a study of Mallards and (iolden-eyes and
their ways. Here they get so tame as to pay absolutely no atten-
tion to the constant traffic passing within a hundred feet of them.
In the rapid water, they get many opportunities to go coasting on
the current and become so expert that they shoot the foamiest kind
of white water with ease. Sometimes they drop down little falls
as high as three feet and keep on swimming in the pool below; if
they are thrown against a submerged rock, they walk right over it,
going on their way as if they had been doing this all their lives.
Perhaps they have ! But still it looks startling, especially to a
canoeman who would eye that river suspiciously, and — let it alone!

The Gardiner is not peculiar in thus being kept open in winter;
nearly every stream of any size in the Park receives waim water
somewhere along its course and is open below ; some of the lakes
have hot springs in their margins or even on their bottoms.
Wherever the ducks and geese find these open waters, they con-
gregate and remain ; and among other streams they frequent the
Gibbon, Firehole, Madison and Yellowstone Rivers in winter. The
Yellowstone River is also a rendezvous for forty or fifty Whistling
Swans each winter, about the outlet of Yellowstone Lake. Yellow-
stone Lake itself is also open where it receives the hot water from
Thumb Basin, allowing a few ^Mallards and Golden-eyes to remain
most of the winter.

The open waters, by giving access to the trout, offer inducements
to the Kingfishers to remain along both the Gibbon and Gardiner
Rivers and probablv other streams. At times ^\'ilson Snipe remain
all winter where the springs are not too alkaline but still warm
enough to permit this worm catcher to get his food.

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

I'lioto iiii ('(ili/iji iiiii A cii'lfiiiy of Sritntfs

Fig. 29. A California Gull. Gulls wiih snovv-whilc under parts and lilack-
tipped wings are a frequent sight, always reminiscent of the ocean a thousand
miles from Yellowstone Park.

I'hoto hii Cdlifoi Ilia Avinhiiiy o] Scifuces

Fig. 30. The young California Gulls, in mottled, juvenile plumage are able to
forage for themselves before August 15.

Birds of the Yellorustone Park

93

THE BIRDS OF YELLOWSTONE LAKE

Yellowstone Lake is a lieautiful sheet of clear, cold water at an
elevation of over 7700 feet above sea level, and there is no other
mountain lake in North America approaching it in size. Its outline
is very irregular, giving it a shoreline of more than a hundred miles,
the main lake being fourteen miles north and south and seven miles
wide, with several arms extending these distances considerably.
The eastern shore is backed l)y the high Absaroka iVbjuntains, but
there is only a gentle rise to the west. Practically all of the shores
are wooded, yet numerous openings in the forest occur where the
various streams enter the lake, and where the outlet leaves it at
the north. Two very good-sized streams empty into it through
large open valleys. Pelican Creek from the northeast and the upper
Yellowstone River from the south, and both of these streams have
extensive mar.shes about their mouths. Hence we have a large
body of water remote from man and his disturbing influences, pro-
viding a great variety of wilderness conditions for the u.se of bird
and animal. The shores comprise sand beaches, pebble beaches,
rocky clififs and marshy meadows; and back of them lie forest,
meadow, prairie and mountain-side. Some of the characteristic
birds of Yellowstone Lake are .shown in plate 2. The marshes pro-
vide choice nesting grounds for Mallard, Blue-winged Teal, Barrow
("lolden-eye and Canada Geese; two low, isolated islands known col-
lectively as Molly Island provide equally good sites for gulls and
White Pelicans. The lake is so full of trout as to attract hundreds
of Ospreys which nest in the tall pines and spruce trees along the
less frecjuented shores. But for some reason the Eagle is very
scarce ; the Bald Eagle nests at only one or two points, while the
Golden Eagle is never seen. In the fall migration a great variety
of shorebirds resort to the beaches and marshes but they are never
very numerous. Besides the two low islands just mentioned, there
are four larger, well-forested islands; but beyond affording secure,
warm nesting sites for forest birds they do not aiTect the general
situation. The lake is on an important migration route and its
marshes and shores offer special attractions to the avian travelers.
As the ice lingers very late, only the land birds are seen during
spring migration ; but in the fall vast numbers of ducks, geese and
swans stop on their way south.

Foremost in interest among the water birds of Yellowstone Lake
is the White Pelican. A bird of majestic beauty, either when swim-

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

ming on the water or when flying past with long, powerful wing
strokes, he never fails to gain the attention of the tourist. And
well he may, for he is a striking bird at all times, and his great
size and beauty serve to remind us of the wonderful inheritance of
native birds with which we Americans were blessed. But our ever
westward "progress" is rapidly driving even this harmless bird
before it until now Yellowstone Lake is one of the most eastern
points at which he breeds.

The first of the returning Pelicans arrive about May i. As the
lake is often covered with ice for a month longer, they wait on the
open Yellowstone River, spending their time in fishing. All through
May their number increases, until there are probably 700 birds
within the Park. Occasionally one or two wander to other sections,
but as a rule they confine themselves to Yellowstone Lake and River,
frequenting the latter as far as the northern edge of Hayden Valley.

About 250 pairs of Pelicans have nested annually on Molly Island
ever since the Park was established. There is little attempt made at
building a nest, the two or three .soiled white eggs being placed
within a slightly raised rim of sand and pebbles. They are laid
about June first and before the end of the month the young emerge.
These are helpless little creatures, naked, blind, and so weak they
can hardly move ; but they are fed on regurgitated fish and grow
rapidly. Although not able to fly until two months old, they mean-
while take to the water and become expert swimmers at a much
earlier date (fig. 31). No calls or cries are to be heard from the
adults, and even the fledglings are unusually quiet.

The White Pelican gets his fish by scooping them up as he swims
along; but he will often drive a school of small ones before him
until they are cornered in some little bay, when a sudden rush
secures a pouchful. He does not use his pouch to carry them,
however, but gulps them down as fast as caught, using the pouch
as a sieve to strain ofif the water. At times, when lazy or when its
own catch comes slowly the Pelican will rob a Merganser, if that
duck is so incautious as to fish nearby.

Another water bird using Molly Islands for a breeding place
is the California Gull, w'hich nests usually on the islet containing
the fewer Pelicans (fig. 28). Their nests are a little more preten-
tious, being made of grass stems arranged in some semblance of
order, and their one to three eggs are dark lavender marked with
black in an irregular pattern. The Gulls arrive somewhat earlier
than their larger associates and begin nesting about the same time.

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

I'lirito hij /,'. l;r,fl-,rf U

J-'ig. 32. Wilson J'lialaiopc 011 iicsl. AllhoiiKh the female lavs the eggs the male of tl
species, contrary to usual bird custom, docs the brooding and takes care of the young.

rhotn hit M>Hrin J. Rnu

I'ig- 3.3- (-aiiada (iccse, contrary to popular belief, are aniong ihe wisest and most intcresti
of birds. In the Yellowstone thej- are common and quite fearless.

Birds of the Ycllozvstovc Park

97

although the nestlings develop so much faster that they are able to
forage for themselves by August (hg. 30). They eat any dead fish
they may find and sometimes rob the INIergansers. They watch these
ducks diving for fish and as they come up with their prey, secure
it for themselves by a quick swoop before the Mergansers can
swallow it. More often they resort to the hotel garbage dumps
where they dispute with the bears the possession of the food. AX'hile
the bears are there the ("mils circle about with screaming cries,
making frequent dives at them ; and the moment the big animals
leave, they settle down in numbers to .secure the rest of the feast.
.\ marked peculiarity of the Gulls is their extreme buoyancx' as
they sit on, rather than in, the water. L'sually when so seated, they
are resting, or perhaps leisurely feeding on something on the sur-
face; at times they e\en appear to be fishing, for they will suddenly
leap up a foot or more and then plunge downward witii great force.

A most peculiar black bird with gray wings — the Black Tern —
makes his appearance near the lake's outlet at times. Rarely more
than one or two at a time, they attract immediate attention by their
slender, swallow-like appearance. On the wing they are erratic
and very buoyant, rising easily into the air from the water's edge
and flying with easy grace as their long wings carry them now here,
now there. They feed on insects, and as their wings are very long
in proportion to their weight, they can spend hours at a time in
tireless pursuit of their prey.

The beaches about the outlet and eastward beyond the mouth
of Pelican Creek are especially liked by shorebirds of various kinds.
With the exception of the !~'i)otted Sandpiper, abundant on every
lake and .stream in the T'ark, shorebirds are never numerous. During
the fall months limited numbers of Willets, Raird Sandpipers,
Least Sandpipers and Solitary Sandpipers make their appearance.
At times a Greater Yellow-legs is seen wading on the flats as far
out as its inordinately long legs will allow, nodding its head and
occasionally thrusting its bill below the surface. If the observer
approaches a bit too clf)sely there is a sudden flash as the bird rises,
spreading its white tail and uttering a mellow "tweep, tu-wheep."
A surprising bird, the Wilson Phalarope (fig. 32), may be seen
here although it is not at all common. This is a small snipe-like
bird that spends its time swimming and feeding on the surface of
the water — a most astonishing sight to one first making its acquain-
tance and mistaking it for a shorebird. The Phalarope is a very
energetic fellow; swimming erratically here and there, nodding his

4

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

head like a walking dove, and always attending strictly to the busi-
ness of feeding. This bird might be considered a great woman's
rights advocate; in contrast with nearly all the rest of the avian
kingdom, the female is the larger and more brilliantly colored ; she
does the courting; she lets her husband build the nest; she let^
him brood and hatch the eggs; and she lets him take entire care of
the young.

To the transient visitor, perhaps the most astonishing birds in
the Park are the Canada Geese (fig. 33). Elsewhere shot at and
harried until they are the wildest and wariest of birds, here they
are tame and fearless to a remarkable degree. They never fail to
surprise the tourist used to barnyard fowls or the domesticated bird-
of city parks. On studying these wild birds, he soon becomes aware
that they are far from being as stupid as common report would
indicate. We all know the ancient legend of how the geese saved
Rome from the approaching barbarians ; and I am quite sure that
they are one of the few kinds of birds smart enough to have done it 1
While the great majority of Yellowstone geese spend only the
summer there, quite a few remain all winter upon waters kept open
by warm springs. The migrating birds commence to arrive in April
and for a month the meadows are alive with them and the air
resounds with their silvery "honk-ah-honk." By the end of that
period those birds that are on their way north have gone and only
the birds that breed here still remain. Rut even so, they are fairly
numerous all through the summer, probably as many as four hun-
dred pairs nesting within the Park limits.

W^hat would pass for courtship with other birds, occupies most
of April; but gee.se are believed to mate for life. Perhaps the
courting we notice is that of young birds ; or do the older pair-
renew their youth at each recurrence of the magic season? During
this period they are very uneasy and noisy, but by the time nesting
begins, they quiet down into "staid old folks" again. In the case
of geese, the word "nest" is rather a misnomer ; usually the}' pick
out a low elevation, utilizing whatever grass and sticks may be
there already, and adding some down from their breasts. The tops
of muskrat houses and especially beaver lodges are preferred for
nesting sites (fig. 34) ; and sometimes the top of a boulder, par-
ticularly if surrounded by water, is chosen. More rarely an old
Osprey or hawk nest is occupied. The nesting time is irregular,
the first of the five or six pale green eggs being laid during the last
of April, in May, or even in early June. The goslings leave the

Birds of ihe YcUozvstoue Park

99

nest soon after birth but stay with their mother all through their
callow days when they are covered with fuzzy, yellow down. They
are expert swimmers, often following their mother through tem-
pestuous seas, and always trying to keep exactly in her wake. Their
feet are not well adapted to progress over land, yet the goslings can
walk and run quite rapidly; not fast enough to evade their enemy,
the coyote, however, who no doubt catches many before they can
fly. I was once much amused by seeing a coyote try to stalk a small
flock of full-grown birds. He must have been either very young
or else somewhat simple-minded. The Geese were perfectly aware
of what was going on, and might well have chuckled to themselves
as each long, cautious crawl of the coyote found them just a little
farther away and entirely too far from cover to warrant a rush.
But the coyote was persistent and the geese seemingly had nothing
better to do than to amuse him. Two or three hours passed in
laborious efforts, and perhaps much canine swearing, that were all
equally unfruitful; but each effort came so near reward! At last
the animal's patience gave way in one mad rush across the beach,
only to see the exasperatingly calm geese enter the river about two
jumps ahead of him and swim away.

The Geese have developed a most interesting protective pose,
lying low with head and neck outstretched upon the ground or the
surface of the water. If on a stony beach, the deception is perfect;
if upon the water, the bird looks like a dead body idly rocking on
the waves; but if upon green grass, the goose's acuteness has played
him false, for his coloring then makes him \ery conspicuous. He
will crouch in this way for an hour, never moving more than per-
haps an eyelid until the intruder is a hundred yards away. Then
his head will slowly be lifted, then his neck, and finally he will rise
to his feet again. This same device is often used by the brooding
bird and it gives her a most un-goose-like appearance.

Mergansers are quite common on Yellowstone Lake and River,
as is to be expected on waters so full of fish. While the Common
Merganser, or Sheldrake, is numerous, his near cousin, the Red-
breasted, is so rare as to be counted an "accidental." When a flock
of these fish ducks line up on a sand or gravel bar with their
gleaming breasts all turned towards the rising sun they make a
handsome sight. They are such expert fishers that their reputation
causes them trouble. Both the (kills and the Pelicans have long
ago found out that the Mergansers are much more expert than they
are. Gathering in the vicinity of the fishing ducks, they wait until

I

Birds of the Yellowstone Park loi

one emerges with a fish preparatory to swallowing it, when they
immediately set upon him and rob him of his dinner.

The marshes about the southern ends of the South and South-
east Arms of the Lake are favorite nesting grounds for Mallards
and Blue-winged Teal. Other ducks are there also but these two
far outnumber the rest. One favorite nesting haunt of the Mallard
near the tourist route is at Lava Creek Pond (fig. 41). The Blue-
winged Teal are the last of the ducks to arrive, it being the first
of June before they reach the Yellowstone. Their nests of grass
and leaves are built in the marsh grasses bordering the numerous
sloughs and beaver ponds on the flats of the upper Yellowstone.
From seven to ten youngsters make their appearance early in July ;
but they suffer so much from hawks and owls and weasels that
barely half reach maturity. The small Teal probably suffer more
from the muskrats than do the other ducks. Sometimes the musk-
rat will even try to catch them after they are grown, but then
escape by flight is easy. Late in September the Teal gather in con-
siderable flocks in the various small ponds, preparatory to migra-
tion. The Green- winged species (fig. 43) is the smallest duck occur-
ring in the Park.

Eagles are extremely rare in the Yellowstone. It is doubtful if
more than three or four pairs of Golden Eagles and four pairs of
Bald Eagles make it their home. Two pairs of the latter make
their nests along the shore of Yellowstone Lake far from the tourist
routes, but in 1919 a third pair built and occupied a nest a mile
north of the Fishing Bridge, on the east shore of Yellowstone River.
A massive platform of sticks is constructed at the top of a tall pine,
and on this are laid two large white eggs. The birds will resent
any intrusion with a rapid snapping of the bill that can be heard
some distance, and their pale yellow eyes fairly blaze with anger.
Whether they would attack or not is rather uncertain ; but in view
of the heavy, hooked bill and massive claws they are usually let
alone by intruders. They have a plentiful food supply in the fish
of the Lake, at least such as they find dead or take by force from
other fish-eating birds, and it is hard to see why they do not increase
as the Osprey has done. In the months of March and April the
migrating Bald Eagles pass through and at that time they are quite
numerous. In flight they are very graceful, the wing strokes being
long, even, and powerful. Should the air currents be just right
they can sail for hours apparently without moving the wings, but
as a rule they are inferior to the Golden Eagle in power and grace

I02

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

of flight. They are apt to aHght at the very tip of a prominent tree;
should it be a stifif, dead stub their weight is easily supported; but
the top of a flexible pine will sway to and fro under the gjrations
of the heavy bird trying to get his balance.

During October and November the wild Swans gather about
Yellowstone Lake and River as far down as the Canyon. Some-
times during the spring flight a few stop for several days, but leave
again long before the tourist season opens. While it is quite usual
to hear the cry of "Swan ! swan !" from one of the boats when a
Pelican appears in sight, there is little chance of seeing that far-
famed bird. P<ut really, were it not for the superior size of the
Swan, the Pelican would be recognized on the water as equally
majestic and graceful; and if the truth be told, far more quiet and
amiable.

Along a large portion of the southwest shore, especially about Flat
Mountain Arm, extensive forest fires have left standing large num-
bers of bare spectral tree trunks, with much brushy growth now
springing up beneath. This environment attracts many Tree Swal-
lows who find the cavities of the dead trees just to their taste. It
is a beautiful sight of a calm still morning or evening, to see the
hosts of these birds skimming the water in pursuit of their prey.

THE BIRDS OF THE FORESTS

About three-fourths of the Yellowstone is covered hy forests,
making a magnificent total of nearly two million acres. Most of
it comprises trees unsuited to commercial use; but it performs its
own \ ery important function to the ranches lying below on the
arid plains. W hetlier a heavy forest growth attracts precipitation
or not, is no ])rol)lem for our bird-busv minds. It is sufficient for
us that the forests are here, that rains and dews fall in ample quan-
tities, and that the brooks and larger streams are plentiful and well
distributed. A large share of the precipitation is in the form of
snow, and the melting and disappearance is spread over a longer
])eriod than would be the case if the country was all open. The soil
protected by the forest acts as a sponge and is able to retain the
moisture for a still longer period. Both of these factors tend to
retard and prevent the sudden run-off of spring water and keep
the streams full, well on toward the autumn storms. Xot only are
the streams and waterfalls kept beautiful but also abundant water
is here for plant growth for our birds and for shrubs and trees to
contain a varied series of nesting sites.

Birds of ihc Yellozvstone Park

103

The forest is composed largely of the lodgepole pine. There are
also two species of the white pine ; one prominent at Mammoth
and the other in twisted, misshapen form near timber line. Doug-
las fir comprises the largest timber in the Park, sometimes reaching
a diameter of five feet. A small balsam fir flourishes near timber
line and is the most beautiful of our trees. The Engelmann spruce
is another handsome tree that grows well up the mountains and is
particularly noticeable in groves covering the south slope of Mt.
Washburn. The western red cedar occurs, especially at Mammoth
and below. The quaking aspen or poplar is the most common and
conspicuous of the deciduous trees. There is a dwarf maple and
a dwarf birch, and alders and stunted w'illows line many streams
through mountain meadows, while several species of cottonwoods
grow along the lowest streams.

Not only is the scenery beautified by flowing streams, but the
forest provides diversified conditions to suit many different species
of birds. In the forest itself few birds will be found; so true is
this, that the Yellowstone has the undeserved reputation of "no
birds" simply because the tourist routes are over half the way in
the dense woods which most birds avoid. If the visitors would
examine the meadows or walk along the bushy places by the brook-
sides, especially on an early morning in June, plenty of birds would
be found. Even in the forest there are frequent openings known
as "parks," and open or brushy meadows along the streams where
birds commonly gather. Some of the more characteristic birds of
the Yellowstone forests are shown in plate i.

Conspicuous among the birds of the forest are the woodpeckers.
Among them the Rocky Mountain Hairy Woodpecker, the Batchel-
der Woodpecker and the Red-naped Sapsucker are the western
forms of common eastern birds. The Williamson Sapsucker, which
continually haunts the aspen woods, has already been described
(pp. 78-80). The Rocky Mountain Hair}', the counterpart of the
Hairy Woodpecker of the east, is the most numerous, if we except
the Flicker ; and he has all the characteristic traits of his tribe. Often
a sharp "peek-k, peek-k," will lead to the discovery of one of these
birds edging around a tree trunk ; still more often a staccato ham-
mering will announce a woodpecker making love to his sweetheart.
The Batchelder is the Yellowstone representative of the Downy
Woodpecker which it resembles closely in appearance and habits ;
and though rather scarce it occasionally may be seen, especially
about the quaking aspen groves. The Red-naped Sapsucker is

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

closely allied to the eastern Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, although the
latter lacks the red nape. Apparently it does not depend so much
on tree sap for food, but is more insectivorous. It, too, is found
in aspen groves; and often on a crisp, frosty morning one may be
found at the very tip of the tallest a.spen with its breast turned
towards the east ready to catch the first warming rays of the sun.
One would suppose it had learned that trick from the Robin. The
Robin always carols of a morning just as though he had no thoughts
beyond the music he was making, yet he is very careful to pick out
the tip of the tallest tree where the warm sunlight will strike first.
Perhaps I am in error to intimate that he is doing anything but
"greeting the morning sun."

Even the Chickadees of this regi(m have a habit of lightly ham-
mering on the limbs, woodpecker fashion. Can it be that they are
prosaically catching ants? These little birds are the Mountain
Chickadees, which have a white stripe above the eye to distinguish
them from the eastern Black-caps (see pi. i). They are the same
cheery little fellows, always coming familiarly about camp to inves-
tigate everything that may attract their interest. On one occasion
a small flock came trooping into my tent where they spent some
time gratifying their curiosity. As they were about to leave, two
of them discovered my hat and coat hanging on the tree outside,
and at once appointed themselves an investigating committee. The
coat offered no problem ; they had no doubt seen such things before.
But the hat was different. One alighted on the brim and the hat
tipped and spilled him off. Here was a nice plaything. Again and
again those little fellows flew to that hat brim for no reason that
could be seen except to be spilled off again ! The IVIountain Chicka-
dee's call is softer and more mournful than that of the eastern
species ; but there is another chickadee, the Long-tailed, sometimes
associated with them, that is more like our eastern bird. The call
is the same and the head has no white stripe ; but the tail is almost
a quarter-inch longer.

Other birds often accompanying the Chickadees are the Rocky
Mountain Creeper, the Rocky Mountain Nuthatch (fig. 37), and
the Red-breasted Nuthatch. The last is common enough but the
other two are not seen so often. The Creeper is a close counter-
part of the eastern bird and could not be distinguished from it
unless the birds were in hand ; it has precisely the same habits and
climbs spirally up a tree trunk, thereby earning the local name of
"tree mouse." Why does it always climb icp; and when it wishes

Birds of the Yclloivstotie Park

107

to descend, fly down instead of creeping? The Rocky Mountain
Nuthatch is the western form of the White-breast and an even more
accomphshed creeper, for he easily goes up or down or even bottom
side up, without a stiff-pointed tail with which to brace himself like
the true Creeper. Another small bird found in the same haunts,
although of a very different kind, is the Western W^arbling Vireo
(fig. 27), the only vireo recorded from the Yellowstone as yet.
Perhaps it would be more exact to speak of this bird as a "wander-
ing voice," for a dainty warble, incessantly repeated from the high
forest is about all that one is apt to find.

Sometimes birds are encountered in the forest that do not seem
to belong there at all. A Kingfisher was seen one day flying through
what seemed the densest of pine timber, and only a careful search
showed its characteristic haunt, a trout stream flowing among the
trees. Robins are normally birds of the open ; yet sometimes I have
run across them in the deep coniferous forest, and there they seemed
unusually wild. Dippers are associated with streams of some width,
yet they will occasionally follow up a veritable mountain rill.

I have already spoken of the big Richardson Grouse ; but there
is another grouse which is found in the forest, especially near the
edges or in undergrowth — the Gray Ruft'ed Grouse. Essentially
he is the same as the eastern Ruft'ed Grouse, but grayish in tone
instead of brown (see pi. 4). As with many other birds, the sunny,
dry climate gives this lighter tone in marked contrast to the dark
brownish bird of the Atlantic slope and the still richer, even reddish
shade of the humid Pacific coast bird. As in the case of the Rich-
ardson Grouse, we are here on the borders of the range of the Gray
Ruffed Grouse, and many Yellowstone individuals incline toward
the Canadian Grouse, a more brownish northern form. Due to its
absolute protection the Yellowstone grouse exhibit traits not com-
mon to the much-hunted birds elsewhere. Neither the Richardson
nor the Ruffed Grouse is very abundant here ; for nesting and liv-
ing as they do largely on the groimd they are peculiarly subject to
attack by coyote, wolf, and rarer fox, and the whole group of small
fur-bearing animals that also thrive under the protection given to
all wild life. Like their eastern congeners, these grouse are drum-
mers. During early mornings in April this remarkable rolling drum-
call resounds from its stand on some fallen log in a thicket of firs
or pines. It is produced by the rapid beat of the wings against the
air, not striking anything, nor can it be proven that the log has any-
thing to do with the performance beyond affording a convenient

io8

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

platform. (Cf. Sawyer, Roosevelt Wild Life Bull., Vol. i, No. 3,
pp. 355-384, for an excellent account of the drumming of the east-
ern Rufifed Grouse.) This drumming, remarkable as it is, is not
the only form of courtship ; there is also a series of circling, pirouet-
ting, and strutting movements which remind one ver>^ forcibly of
the barnyard turkey cock. With head thrown back, chest out,
ruf¥s raised to their fullest, and tail erect and spread out fan-shape,
the little gallant steps proudly about. The female is usually perched
on a limb a few feet above, watching the performance. One would
assume that after such ardent courtship the cock would make a
model father of the family. But, alas ! soon after his mate is won
he practically deserts her. It is even said that he is a polygamist
and that the hen must hide her nest from him; whether this is true
or not, certain it is that the nest is well hidden. There is not much
attention to nest building as that term is understood in reference to
songbirds. Such a proceeding would perhaps destroy the natural-
ness of the surroundings. A Ruffed Grouse locates her nest at the
foot of a tree amid the dead leaves ; and here she makes a bowl-
shaped cavity capable of holding the dozen or more eggs that con-
stitute a clutch. The eggs are buff colored, speckled with darker
brown. The young are hatched between mid- June and mid- July,
and are covered with yellow down and able to run as soon as they
leave the shell. It is astonishing at what an early age these fluf¥y
little chicks can fly, when no bigger than a man's fist ; and while
they fly but a short distance, it is practically impossible to find them
again. Their skill in finding secure hiding places is marvellous ;
they disappear as if by magic on ground that seems absolutely devoid
of cover. It is necessary that they be able to run at birth, fly at an
early age, and be cunning hiders, if they are to survive at all. Even
as it is the lessened September flocks show all too plainly the dangers
that have beset them and taken toll.

Throughout the eastern states the Ruflfed Grouse is noted for the
skill with which the mother simulates a broken wing and leads an
intruder far from her brood with promise of easy capture ; here in
the Yellowstone she does not make so much use of this ruse. Can
this be the result of the protection afforded, or is it to be otherwise
accounted for? The absence of hunters here certainly make this
fine game bird very tame at times. Camping parties often see pretty
little broods of grouse ; and although they seem to be perfectly
fearless yet it is quite evident that the mother is always on the look-
out. Well she knows that a hundred dangers threaten and that, if

Birds of the YcUoivstonc Park

she would save her chicks, she must be watchful. After the young-
sters are big enough to look after themselves this caution is relaxed,
and the birds are comparatively vmsuspicious. Then they roam
through the forest, stej^iping along very daintily with head and neck
down, hunting for the insects and berries on which they feast. Any
unusual sight excites their great curiosity. Let an observer be seen
or heard and instantly they become motionless. If the intruder also
remains motionless, before long a neck will be craned, and then
a head turned for a glance first from one eye then from the other,
until little by little the "frozen" birds come to life. Still curious,
they circle slowly about the stranger, stopping sometimes to catch
a bug or to climb a log for a better view. If not satisfied, they will
retvn-n time and again for another look as long as the intruder does
not move ; but when he does move they are oflf in a hurry, taking to
wing if badly scared. Although rapid runners and able to get away
quickl}- through the underbrush, they are much more apt to fl}'.
owing to the fact that most of their enemies are four-footed
prowlers.

While the grouse has so man}- enemies on the ground, there is
one that threatens from above even in the heaviest timber — the
Western Horned Owl (fig. 39). An owl's activities are not wholly
restricted to the night ; in fact he is often out hunting when the sun
is high in the heavens. This Great Horned Owl is the commonest
owl in the Park, foimd especially in the heavy growth of timber
west of the formation at JNIammoth Hot Springs, from which he
fret[uently comes down to the terraces in search of rabbits. While
he does catch grouse, as a rule where rodents are numerous he con-
fines himself largely to them. He sometimes leaves the heavy forest
in the evening to hunt his prey across such large, upland prairies
as the Hayden and Blacktail valleys. The \\^estern Horned Owl
nests at an early date, the first egg being laid late in March. Old
Red-tail Hawks' nests are sometimes utilized, but often a nook under
an overhanging ledge is selected instead. So far as known only one
brood is raised, so the early nesting is evidently not in preparation
for a second brood.

Another owl that inhabits the fir forests is at the other extreme
in size; it is the Pygmy Owl, so small that its measurements closely
duplicate those of the Bluebird ! Not much is known of its habits,
although it is quite frequently seen in winter perched at the tip of
a tree, getting the benefit of what little warmth the sun afifords.
The flight of this little owl is not at all owl-like but resembles that
of the Sparrow Hawk.

no

Roosevelt IJlId Life Bulletin

THE BIRDS OF THE OPEN COUNTRY AND ITS
SMALL PONDS

The whole northern section of the Park, including the lower
valley of the (jardiner River, the valley of the Yellowstone below
Tower Fall, and the valley of the Lamar below Cache Creek, is
largely a great stretch of ojjen country lying below 7000 feet; while
the northern sloi)es of Mt. Washburn, the upper valley of the Gard-
iner, the valley of Nez Perec (including the Lower Geyser Basin),
the Hayden Valley, and the valley of Pelican Creek, make up a series
of open, prairie-like uplands surrounded by forest, having an aver-
age elevation of 7000 to 8000 feet. These two sections of open
country differ from each other not only in elevation, but also in the
resulting fauna and flora. The lower section is largely covered with
sagebrush and is hotter and somewhat drier, while the higher land
is covered by a heavy growth of alpine grasses able to resist the
frequent frosts.

The open ranges are extremely important to the animals of the
Park, who find their grazing there during nine months of the year.
The remaining three months coincide exactly with the tourist season
when they retire before the heat and annoying flies to the higher
mountains. But some birds are attracted by the flies, and many
species find these open, grassy stretches especially to their liking.
Plate 3 shows several of the commoner birds of the open country.
Most of the range is well watered by springs and streams; in the
spring it is green and fresh, but towards fall, especially on the lower,
hotter levels, it becomes dry and brown. Where there is water the
surface is dotted with groves of the ^arious trees that go to make
u[) the Park forest.

The most notable bird of the open is the Meadowlark, a minstrel
who should not be passed without the full attention he merits. He
is equall}' at home on the flats near the northern entrance at an alti-
tude of 5300 and u]) in Hayden \'alley at 8000 feet. He delivers his
song from almost any perch although at times he appears to prefer a
fence post or a bush about four feet high. On one occasion I saw
a Meadowlark, bubbling o\er with song, mount to the very top of
the tallest tree in sight, an aspen full forty feet high. A cliff a
short distance away gave a ringing echo to his song, and there he
perched and sang repeatedly, seeming vastly pleased with the very
musical disturbance he was creating. Another lark, intending to
fly to a fence post to sing, somehow missed his perch, but he was

Plate 3. Birds of the Open Country

Western Vesper Sparrow. 6, 7:

Western Meadowlark. 8, 9:

Mountain Bluebird (male, female). 10:

Western Red-tailed Hawk. H:

Sparrow Hawk (male, female").
Brewer Blackbird {male, female)
Richardson Grouse.
Desert Horned Lark.

(All figures 1^ ''f*" ^i'''')

Birds of the Yellozvstone Park

III

so near bursting with liis song that lie just dropped to tlie ground
singing melodiously and uncontrollably. The next day a Meadow-
lark sang while flying, but I must admit that he did much better
after he perched in a low cedar. No other bird in the Park gets up
so many apparent duets with other species as this one. It is not so
surprising to hear a Meadowlark's song giving way to that of a
Robin, as they are both persistent singers and occupy the same
kind of country ; but it is strange to hear the clear fluting of the
lark followed by the "wreech-i-ty, wreech-i-ty, wreech-i-ty" of the
W estern Yellow-throat. Sometimes the other member in the duet
is a Song Sparrow, and again the Sparrow mingles his song with
that of the Robin.

Many of the Park songsters are so persistent that they sing even
during frequent spring showers, but their ardor does seem to be
somewhat dampened. The W ater Ouzel, the Townsend Solitare,
and the Chickadee sing throughout the winter. The Bluebird and
Robin take up their music during late March, and the rest of the
songsters join in as they arrive from their southern homes. The
chorus reaches its maximum in late May and early June, continuing
with little loss of volume until July lo, after which it declines until
about July 25, when all are quiet but the Song Sparrow, who con-
tinues a week longer. There is also a short song period indulged
in by some birds in September.

One of the most interesting features of the open country is its
ponds, which attract a surprising variety of waterfowl. The two
most commonly seen are the Coot and the Baldpate. The Coots
come in April as soon as the ice has disappeared from their favorite
ponds, sometimes arriving when only a fringe of water is to be
found about the edge of the ice. They breed in a small tule-bor-
dered pond near Junction Butte in the Lamar valley and remain
until driven out by freezing October weather (see fig. 40). This
small alkaline pond has attractions for many other species also.
During the migrations there is no better point in the Park to observe
the wild-fowl, except of course the birds of more extensive open
waters like the Yellowstone Lake and River. In spite of the pond
being small, a great variety of birds stop in passing; Canada Geese
are often there; it is one of the earliest haunts of the Killdeer; the
Great Blue Heron is frequently seen standing on its shore; and
W^ilson Snipe stop to feed along its muddy shallows. At its eastern
end is a small patch of stunted willows where I always find a few
nests of the handsome Yellow-headed Blackbird. But while it has

112

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

many transient visitors this pond seems the pecuHar property of
the Coot, as it is the only place in the Yellowstone where it is found
in considerable numbers.

The Baldpate comes to this i)ond and so does the Red-head Duck;
if you could get the latter 's opinion, he would no doubt tell you that
the Coot and the l^.aldpate could well be dispensed with. There are
some particularly succulent plants growing in the bottom of the
l)ond; the Red-head gets them by diving; the Coot and the Baldpate
either cannot dive far enough or are too lazy to. But they like
those plants too ; so they lie in wait and as the Red-head comes up,
they snatch the tidbit from his bill before he can swallow it himself !

Though acting the part of a robber, the Baldpate is a nervous
duck of the small ponds and sloughs. In the water, when alarmed,
and also in flight it gives utterance to a very shorebird-like whistle.
When alighting it exhibits other shorebird-like ways, turning so that
the white belly can be seen first from one side, then from the other,
and seeming to fall into the water instead of gliding along the sur-
face as the Mallard does.

The most conspicuous birds of the open are the hawks. The
Swainson Hawks are the most numerous, and fortunately so, for
without their help the Park would soon be overrun with mice, moles
and ground squirrels. Sometimes there is a plague of locusts or of
grasshoppers, and the larger birds are drawn to the feast from far
and near. From all the country surrounding, the .Swainsons col-
lect in flocks and it is a strange sight to .see these lonely birds of
the sky feeding on the ground, dashing here and there, catching
grasshoppers like a flock of turkeys. This species is so tame that
it often aft'ords good opportunities to the bird student. So scarce
are the other large hawks, except the Western Red-tail, that one
cannot go far wrong to call every large hawk seen, a Swainson.
unless he has plainly the diagnostic chestnut tail of the Red-tail, its
near relative. The latter is somewhat the larger of the two and is
not quite so plentiful. Both have similar nesting habits. Xormally
the nests of these big hawks are placed in high trees; but where
such trees are scarce, convenient ledges are selected upon the face
of some inaccessible cliff. The nest of the Swainson is built of
sagebrush and coarse sticks, lined with leaves and bark, and is
occupied year after year.

The Red-tail is more truculent than the Swainson, and often
fights with his fellows; and, in turn, he affords a shining mark for
sportive Nutcrackers. But it is the Crow, strange to say, that has

ISirds of the Ycllozvstone Park

taken it upon himself to actually resent the presence of the Red-tail.
Apparently each large land bird has his own regulator, as it were,
to keep him in order. The Red-tail has the Nutcrackers and Crows
to look after him ; the Eagle has the Ravens ; and the Raven has the
Brewer Blackbirds. The chief of this crew of tormentors, the King-
bird, is so seldom seen in the Park that I have not learned what his
preference might be. The Red-tail has an interesting habit, noted
sometimes in the Nutcracker, of descending from a height by a
series of plunges, each plunge being made with closed wings and
at marvellous speed. Sometimes the hawk varies this by letting
his wings open in such a way as to carry him up at an angle to
almost the height he started from ; then another such plunge and
recovery; and this is repeated again and again until the bird has
passed out of sight in an undulating flight of great variations. This
suggests an interesting cjuestion. In pouncing upon their prey,
hawks descend from great heights at tremendous speed. What
prevents them from being dashed to pieces as they reach the ground ?
Perhaps they are able to slacken their speed at the last moment.
But in the case of the Osprey, plunging into lake or stream, the
swoop is made with such unchecked force that a fountain of water
leaps up behind him.

The Rough-legged Hawk is another hawk of the open ; but he is
a winter bird, seldom arriving before the latter part of September
and departing as soon as the first melting weather of spring. The
Rough-leg, beating across the desolate, wintry meadows and prairies
in search of mice or other rodents, compels attention when other
birds are scarce.

In summer, it is the sociable reddish brown and blue vSparrow
Hawk which attracts most attention. Always conspicuous when
perched on a telephone pole or other elevation (tig. 38), he is still
more noticeable when he hovers at one point in mid-air for minutes
at a time before swooping down on some luckless mouse or grass-
hopper. More interesting yet is his habit of swooping in a series
of steps. Starting at a height of say fifty feet he drops perhaps
eight feet ; hovers a minute or two, then droi)s another eight feet ;
hovers and drops again ; and so on till his position is just right for
a quick dart to capture his cjuarry. He seldom misses. Like the
larger rapacious birds he finds enough prey of other kinds in the
Park so there is no reason to disturb the small birds that are his
neighbors. On a sultry summer afternoon, the "killy, killy, killy"
cry of this small hawk is often the only sign of life. Fond of com-

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Roosevelt JVild Life Bulletin

panions, the Sparrow Hawk is often one of a group seen about a
favorite hunting ground. Mxemplary in his domestic habits, he is
beheved to mate for life and to return to the same nest in an old
woodpecker hole year after year. The male does his full share in
brooding the eggs and feeding the young.

The Prairie Falcon is another of the small hawks which beat
across the open country, but he comes from a nest on a clifif, hunts
larger prey, and is not so often seen as the Sparrow Hawk. The
Short-eared Owl is also a bird of the open, hunting mostly at night
and hiding by day in the brush or the tall grass where he sometimes
nests. Another hunter of the oj)en lands, although not strictly
a raptorial bird, is the Northern Shrike with his gray plumage
marked by black and white. As he appears in October and remains
until April, the abundant mice and (during the warmer part of his
stay) grasshoppers make up the bulk of his food, which tends to
protect the smaller birds from this killer. When present, the Shrike
is a striking addition to the landscape, for he spends most of his
time perched on some commanding point from which he can sight
his prey.

From the sunny hillside just below Mammoth where clumps of
low bushes dot the open spaces, all the way to the Gardiner entrance,
the Western Yellow-throat finds congenial shelter. Should the visi-
tor be present during the song season, he can hardly overlook these
birds, for their insistent song will force itself on his attention. The
elevation of the Park is a little too great for this warbler of the
lowlands and he must make the best he can of the section below
6000 feet. He is a restless, nervous fellow, clambering among the
reeds and bushes in his never-ending search for the tiny insects that
are his food. Only when he is singing, or when an intruder attracts
his attention, does he pause in his strenuous hunt for food. In
addition to his regular song, he has a flight song uttered towards
evening; and both he and his mate have a distinct little alarm note.
The nest is made of grass and leaves placed on the ground, or at
least very close to it, and is lined with finer materials such as hair
and rootlets. Three or four white eggs with brown spots about
the larger end are laid early in June. The female is quietly dressed
and so retiring that she is hard to find ; she attends strictly to the
care of her home. While she discreetly keeps under cover, her mate
plays his part of the game. Go too near the nest and he will move
off just slowly enough to encourage you to follow after and be led
a merry chase.

ii6 Rooscvell JVild Life Bulletin

In striking contrast to the Yellow-throat is the Desert Horned
Lark, its black head and chest marks alone serving to distinguish it
from the soil it stands on (see pi. 3) ; shy of intruders, with a song
that is seldom heard, this attractive bird is as much at home upon
the high, grassy plateaus or bare slopes as its brother and sister
larks on the burning sagebrush flats below. About the first of
March, as soon as patches of bare ground begin to show through
the melting snow, flocks of larks are to be seen running nimbly
about ; or else sitting fluffed up in the shelter of a rock taking a nap
in the warm sunlight. If you approach too close, they are up and
away, each one uttering a series of silvery "cheeps" that sound
good to a winter-weary ear. After flying in zigzag flight for a
hundred feet or so, they wheel and return almost to their starting
place ; then settle down and immediately go to gleaning grass and
weed seeds again. In summer they are wilder and fly farther, often
forgetting to come back at all. Always true ground birds, whether
on the cool heights of Specimen Ridge, or the much warmer valleys
below, they decline to mount a bush even when they wish to sing;
though one may climb a pile of dirt to utter a soft little ditty, or
even hop upon a stone a few inches high and sing from there. On
the wing, however, they sing a sweet, stirring love song; often
mounting up until the song comes drifting softly back from an
unseen musician. But as you gaze upward, the little minstrel comes
.shooting down with wings half folded and tail held up to serve as
rudder. Nearing the ground he catches himself and comes to rest
beside his mate as lightly as a bit of down. Although the larks are
fairly abundant, breeding on the high grassy plateaus, a nest is
seldom found for the good reason that it may be placed anywhere
upon the ground within an area of thousands of acres with abso-
lutely nothing to guide one to the site. Trusting to her protective
coloring the invisible little mother stays quietly on her nest
although an intruder may be only a few feet away. As if to con-
tribute their mite towards concealment, the nestlings leave the nest
while very young.

The Western Vesper Sparrow, who has a brown striped back and
white outer tail feathers (see pi. 3), is the sparrow of the open
flats and uplands, outnumbering all other birds of this habitat.
Throughout most of the northern section of the Park he is every-
where present, and it is difficult indeed to cross any of the sage-
brush covered flats without finding him running along the ground
ahead of you. This sparrow arrives early in April and remains

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

until October unless driven out earlier by very cold weather. Like
the Horned Lark, the Vesper Sparrow is found not only on the
hot sagebrush flats but also in the larger of the mountain valleys.
As the 8000- foot level is approached the Vespers give way to the
Savannah Sparrows in the grassy parks and to the Lincoln Spar-
rows in the brushy tracts.

In the lower parts of the open country, Crows are sometimes
3een, only one or two at a time, or occasionally in small flocks ; for
they are not plentiful and never gather in the large flocks to which
easterners are accustomed. The largest flock ever reported numbered
sixty-seven and these were migrating, flying south over Mammoth.
Another bird common on eastern farms but very rare here is the
Cowbird. In the old days the constant companionship between this
bird and the buffalo gave rise to the legend that the birds built their
nests in the shaggy hair between the horns of a buflfalo. When
brought to book on this statement, the westerner would always reply,
"Well, you never found a nest anywhere else." For I am sorry to
say that the Cow^bird lays her eggs in other birds' nests in this region
as well as throughout the rest of the country. Here, the Cowbird
associates with the horses, and on the Buffalo Ranch it has once
more become the "buffalo bird." An amusing stoiy is told of one
"dude" on his first camping trip. He had found it too cold to get
up and had stayed in his blankets until after sunrise. He came out
to the fire rubbing his eyes. "Say, what did you leave that can on
the horse's back for?" he demanded. The guide was rather startled
for a moment as he hadn't rested easy the night before, fearing that
the horses might roll on some of the old rusty cans lying about ;
but a glance at the horse set him laughing. There was a Cowbird
perched on its withers keeping his feet warm. Another joke that
the Cowbird gave rise to : A horseback party traveling along the
Tower Fall road was followed for several miles by a small flock of
Cowbirds that time and again flew up and alighted in the road among
the horses. Every time they came flying up from behind, one of
the ladies asked what they were. On being told that they were
buffalo birds who lived on the buffalo's head with llieir nests
between the horns, she exclaimed, "^^'hy, tliere are lots of them!
And I don't see any buffalo either!"

ii8

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

THE BIRDS OF THE BROOKS AND RIVERS

The attractiveness of the Yellowstone scenery is due mainly to
its high lakes and swift streams fed from mountain snows. Where
would be the beauty of the rapids and waterfalls without an abun-
ance of water? Would the wild flowers be as fresh and sweet
without abundant water, or the birds and animals as numerous?
What would Yellowstone Lake be like without frequent rains, or
the perennial flow from deep snows back in the high ranges?
Would there have been a Yellowstone Canyon without a powerful
stream to cut it? Would it be half as attractive without the lofty
waterfalls at its head and the magnificent river at its bottom ?
Would the forests be as attractive without copious rains? What,
oh dusty tourist, would be your condition if there was too little
water to sprinkle the roads once a day?

Yellowstone Park is on the continental divide; its important
streams flow down in all directions toward the thirsty plains. The
Yellowstone River itself rises in a high mountain basin outside the
present boundary of the Park but flows through it by way of Yel-
lowstone Lake, and is joined within the Park by many good-sized
streams. At the northern boundary it receives the water of the
Gardiner River gathered from many square miles of the northern
section. The (Gallatin River flows through and drains the north-
western corner of the Park. The Madison collects through its
branches the waters of the whole central part, and with the Gallatin
makes two of the three streams forming the Missouri. The Snake
River drains the southern parts of the Park and is an important
part of the Columbia River system. So there are three great rivers
receiving a large part of their waters within the Park ; and in addi-
tion there are many important tributary streams and legions of
brooks and springs.

So many streams born in such a limited space cannot fail to have
considerable influence upon the Park bird life. They bring many
striking and beautiful species to Yellowstone Lake and Yellowstone
River, as we have already seen, either because of the presence of
the water itself, or because of the abundant insect, fish and vegetable
food provided. Indeed, it is believed to be the food supply, mainly,
that decides birds in their choice of homes. Of course they require
suitable nesting sites ; but without an unfailing food supply for the
young, they will not nest, no matter how good the sites. The
Streams promote the growth of bushes and other vegetation along

Birds of the YeUoivstone Park

119

their courses, providing good nesting sites and food for avian vege-
tarians, and breeding grounds and food for many of the insect
eaters. They also furnish conditions for forming meadows, to the
deHght of the meadow-haunting birds. A characteristic group of
the birds of the upper woodland streams is shown in plate 4.

The birds which make direct use of the brooks and rivers are
those ducks and geese that prefer the smaller waters to the broad
expanse of Yellowstone Lake, together with the Spotted Sandpiper,
the Kingfisher, and the Water Ouzel. Ospreys, California Gulls,
and even Bald Eagles frequently forsake the Lake to hunt along the
larger streams, but it is the blue and white crested Kingfisher who
really is most at home there. Not only does the abundant supply
of trout attract large nimibers of these interesting birds in summer,
but it holds some of them all winter along the streams kept open by
warm springs. .So often do we see this bird flying from tree to tree
along a brook and uttering his harsh, rattling call, that we invariably
think of him as noisy; yet there is a period during July and early
August when the parents are noticeably quiet. Throughout well-
settled regions, the Kingfishers retire before the advance of civiliza-
tion. This is apparently not because the birds shun human beings,
for about well-known summer resorts they are apt to be plentiful
if fish are numerous and the streams unpolluted. Here in the Yel-
lowstone it happens that there are more Kingfishers on the streams
along which the tourist routes run than elsewhere. For several
years there has been a nest near the Riverside Geyser, one of the
most frequented spots of that popular section, the Upper Geyser
Basin. The people waiting to see the geyser play can meanwhile
watch the birds fly back and forth, do their fishing and feed their
young. Sometimes the Kingfisher goes so far up a trout stream
that he finds the timber interfering with his diving; still, he does
the best he can and seems able to get his fish by simply dropping
on it even from a height of not more than three feet.

To an eastern bird student, the Dipper is a great discovery, so
new and strange a bird that every meeting with him excites surprise
and admiration at his unique ways. A singing, perching bird that
lives in the water even more than a duck does, and that performs
submarine feats which the majority of shorebirds cannot approach,
amuses and fascinates us. Though spending his life in the water,
his waterproof suit keeps him so dry he seems to consider a bath
necessary every morning or oftener. He takes it differently from
other birds. Making a flying start, he sticks his head down and

120

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

scoots along the surface with the water flying all over him; then
he flies up and repeats the performance. \\'hen he has had enough
of the i)lunge bath he goes ashore, stands in the shallow water up
to his belly and flutters and shakes himself, getting a regular bird
hath in addition. Then he wades out on a rock, shakes himself
still more, and preens his feathers. Nor does this little fellow
follow the prescribed style when he alights at the end of a flight.
Instead of alighting on land he is more apt to alight in the water
and then climb up on the desired rock. At times the Ouzel is seen
on the surface of a small pond. After sitting quietly for a few
minutes, he plunges forward and down, often to a depth of fifteen
feet. When he returns to the surface he comes up with a rush that
throws the spray all about and even carries him above the surface.
He is a solitary little chap except during the nesting season, and
even the youngsters when they leave the nest about the first of July
separate, each one thereafter fending for himself. Apparently each
pair of birds "stake their claim" to a certain section of the stream;
interlopers are chased far beyond its limits.

But however interesting the Kingfisher and the Dipper are, it is
the Spotted Sandpiper that makes the streams really lively. It is
the same Spotted Sandpiper known to every farmer boy as the
"tip-up." Many a dift'erent bird is given the credit for arousing
a latent interest and starting a budding ornithologist, but where is
the country boy who hasn't commenced his hunting by sneaking up
on a Sandpiper with nerves a-tingle and the old family musket held
ready? As a teacher of bird lore the "teeter snipe" (another of
its local names) vies wath the Grebe, or Water-witch. We imagine
we hear the old question: "How does the teeter fly without moving
his w'ings?" It is useless to say that the wings beat the same as
those of other birds, only moving so fast they cannot be seen. The
youthful inquirer was never satisfied with this, he was sure he could
see them move if he only watched carefully enough. Behold the
ornithologist in embryo ! What are any of us doing, but trying to
see the birds do something nobody else has seen yet !

Truly the Sandpiper takes advantage of every opportunity for a
suitable abode; one finds the hot lower levels just the home he wants,
while according to his brother's notion the streams and ponds high
up in the mountain meadows at 9000 feet are the "choicest lots."
He never pretends to be a singer, but his ringing "peet-weet" is a
cheery sound and a very familiar one. Even his name brings up
in our mind a fresh, clean mountain meadow with a pair of trim

Birds of ihc YcUowstovc Park

121

little gray birds bowing and courtesying to each other and — "pcet-
weet, peet-weet, peet-weet," which it is easy to imagine is the sand-
piper expression for "all's well."

As a harbinger of spring the Sandpiper has the confidence of the
mountain people. He does not come in March and then sit around
a month or so disconsolately, wishing he was back south ; when he
arrives in mid-May, his human friends know it's time to put away
snow shovels and get out the fly screens. No disconsolate sitting
about for him ; he is all business just as soon as he arrives. He
finds him a mate and begins housekeeping with a nest under a clump
of grass; perhaps merely a slight hollow lined with a little grass
and a few leaves on which are laid four large, olive-drab eggs,
spotted with brown and purplish. The youngsters are hatched early
in July, are covered with down, and can run (and swim if accident
takes them into the water) about as soon as they are dry. I said
"run" advisedly, for if you get curious and want to run one down,
you have a surprise coming to you. They can make those little legs
of theirs go so fast that you will give up the chase long before they
are even distressed; and if you corner them, they enter the water
without hesitation and swim buoyantly ofif, leaving you gazing after
in open-mouthed astonishment.

The Sandpiper picks up his insect food from the mud and sand
bars, or gleans it from the water surface ; and no doubt collects toll
from the meadow grass whenever he threads his way through it. To
my surprise I once saw one catch a fly on the wing. From the
sandy beach he jumped up into the air about five feet, caught the
passing gnat, and returned to the beach just as if he had been doing
such stunts all his life!

Many other birds dwell or forage along the streams, especially
those that favor more or less brushy places. Among them is the
Catbird. The mountains are too high, and perhaps too cold for him,
but along the Gardiner River below 5600 feet he finds the conditions
he likes, and his mate builds her nest in the willow bushes and raises
a brood of young ones. The Tree Sparrows come here as true
migrants, tarrying in the Park only for a short time in February
and March, and again in September and October ; but when they
are present, they will be found in the birches and alders about some
spring-fed rivulet or brook.

But while all these birds, except the Dipper, live along the banks
of the streams, there are others that live on the surface. Notable
among them is the Eared Grebe, he of the high black crest and

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Roo.rcvcll Ji'ild Life Bulletin

tawny cheeks, who, like the Dipper, is an expert diver. But the
Grebe is a genuine water bird, unable to walk on land, and builds
a floating nest in quiet, marshy shallows (fig. 42). Though fre-
quently seen he is not so abundant as to make him appear common-
place. He is a summer resident only, arriving in May as soon as
the ice is out of the small ponds which he loves, and remaining on
them until October. As they often inhabit streams close beside
the Park roads, these attractive divers become so tame as to permit
much closer study than can be had elsewhere.

With the Grebe, or at least on the same waters, is sure to be
found the Green-winged Teal ; which also undoubtedly breeds here,
and which often remains all winter in the open streams. He is
almost the smallest of our ducks, but far from being the least
noticeable. It is true that he does not have the resplendent plu-
mage of the Wood Duck ; but his natty suit of brown, black, green,
white and bufif always looks clean and refreshing (pi. 2). He is a
dainty though voracious feeder on the juiciest of water plants and
it is .small wonder that he has the reputation of being always fat and
of most delicious flavor. Since he likes the same food and the same
resting and sleeping places, he is often found with the Mallard.
The Green-wing Teal has various call notes ; the ordinary alarm is
a "quack, quack," quite similar to that of the ^lallard, while the
call note of the male is a whistle-like "greep, greep !" When flying
or when resting quietly, these little ducks keep up an almost inces-
sant chatter amongst themselves. Like the Mallard, Pintail, Shov-
eler, and most other river ducks, the Teal spends considerable time
on shore, basking in the sun, preening and sleeping.

On the other hand the Golden-eye is seldom seen standing on
anything; yet the nest is usually made inside a hollow tree. The
common American Golden-eye, with the round white spot at the
base of the male's bill, is here from October to April; while the
few Barrow Golden-eyes (with crescent-shaped white face patch),
staying all winter, are greatly reinforced in April so that a goodly
number remain to breed.

The Harlequin is a rare duck here, but that is true of him
everywhere except in the far North. He is a lover of the swift water
and has been seen only on the rapids of a few of our largest streams.
Little is knovv^n about the Harlequin ; but he is beheved to pair for
life; certain it is that the drake has never been reported in the
Yellowstone without his mate being near. They are not gregarious
here, one or two couples being the most seen at one time. Appar-

Birds of the yello7(.'stoiie Park 123

Photo by A'. B. Rockicell
Fig. 40. Nest, eggs and young of an American Coot. The fuzzy, black young-
sters do not usually number more than three to the brood, although there may
be as many as six eggs.

Photo by M. P. Skinner
Fig. 41. Mallard drakes preening on a small mud island in a beaver pond near
Lava Creek. For years the Mallards have nested in this beaver pond beside
the Park highway.

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

Photo by R. B. Rocknell

Fig. 42. The floating nest and eggs of the American Eared Grebe. This is the
only grebe at all common in Yellowstone Park, and the only one found nest-
ing there as yet.

Photo by R. B. Rockwell

Fig. 43. The Green-winged Teal. This beautifully mottled bird is the smallest
of the ducks found in the Park.

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

125

ently the swift mountain streams afford them endless enjoyment ;
they are seldom quiet, and are most often seen on rapid water,
letting the swift current carry them down, \\ hen they have gone
far enough, they fly hack upstream to enjoy another coast down-
ward; and this play is kept up for hours at a time. The e.Kcessive
rarity of this handsome duck, together with the fact that little is
known of his habits, makes the sight of him a red letter occurrence.

Other ducks besides the Harlec|uins are found along the largest
streams; the Madison especially being favored by Mallards and
Mergansers. The Mallards resort to a stretch of the Madison where
the beaver have formed a .series of channels across an aspen
meadow. To this attractive place come the leal and the Wood
Duck, now one of our greatest rarities.

But it is not only ducks that come to the Madison valley. The
banks of this river are noted for the number and variety of its
feathered visitors. While a few species do not reach so high an
altitude, there is no other place in the Park that approaches this
in avian resources ; and it is an important gateway for the migratory
birds to the central and western parts of the Park.

The migration routes through the ^'ellowstone are very compli-
cated. In common with all mountain sections, there is a two-fold
migration ; the regular north and south mo\ ement, and a movement
up and down the mountains. The great majority of the larger,
bolder birds move in true north and south direction. Some of the
hardier species, such as the Nutcracker and the Dipper, simply
move up and down the mountains as the seasons change. The Nut-
cracker changes his habitat from all elevations in summer to the
sectons below 7000 feet in winter, mainly on account of the food
supply. The Dipper changes from the higher elevations of summer
to the lower levels as the higher streams freeze and he is forced
to seek an open stream where his favorite food can be had. Rut
these movements are further complicated by the migration of the
smaller, shyer species who pass up and down the river courses. As
I have already noted, the rivers flow out of the Park in three widely
different directions. The continental divide crosses the Park from
the southeast corner to the west side, so that all birds going out by
way of the Snake River are forced to cross it. And even those
birds that go out the upper Yellowstone valley must cross the high
passes of the Wind River and the Big Grme ranges. Those birds
chat go out by way of the Madison also have to cross the continental
divide, but they can do so by much lower passes than any within

126

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

the Park. It is quite probal)le that many of the earliest arrivals
take the roundabout course of coming up either on the east or on the
west until they strike the Yellowstone Valley to the north of us,
and then follow it southward up into the Park.

So many of the migrants are night-flying species that it is difificult
to ascertain their exact route. In the case of the early Robins, Blue-
birds and Meadowlarks they are first noted at Livingston, Montana;
they arrive a day or two later at the north boundary, and three or
four days after tliat they are at Mammoth and the lower elevations
throughout the northern part of the Park.

The Tree SwalKnvs, which travel by day, arrive in the Jackson
Lake region the latter ])art of April, move slowly up the Snake
River to the southern boundary, and faster up the Lewis River to
the head of Lewis Lake, wiiere they cross over the continental
divide to Yellowstone Lake. Then they pass along the west shore
of the lake to the outlet, where they usually arrive between April
25 and May 10, according to the progress of the season. From this
point the flight is .slow, only a few miles a day, as they proceed
down the Yellowstone River to their summer homes. Some of the
Park Tree Swallows also come north to the west of the Teton
Mountains and up the headwaters of the Snake River to Henry's
Lake, where they cross the divide to the Madison at the west
boundary. They arrive here about the same time that they do at
Yellowstone Lake ; and that portion of the birds going into the
Yellowstone Park branch off and make their way slowly up the
Madison River. The route via Henry's Lake is used by a great
many birds summering along the Madi.son, and indeed all through
the western part of Montana ; but the Snake River- Yellowstone
Lake route seems to be used only by Park birds.

Another route is via the Snake and Lewis Rivers to the head-
waters of the Firehole River and then down. This route is used
especially by the Brewer Blackbirds in the autumn migration. In
July these blackbirds gather in flocks, but not until two months
later does the migration start. Then they make their way up the
Firehole River in small, compact flocks of from two to thirty birds,
chattering together sociably and flying about twenty feet above the
ground, although they will rise a hundred feet if necessary to clear
an obstacle. With a speed a little swifter than usual, the flocks
follow each other closely so that they may keep in line by sight.
But should a flock get ofif the route, on discovering the fact it will
wheel and return at once to the line of flight rather than toward the

Birds of the YcUoivslanc Park

127

flock ahead. \\'hen migrating, the Brewer Blackbirds fly during
the afternoon, stopi)ing during the morning to feed. At the height
of the migration about a thousand birds i)ass a given point during
each hour. The flight lasts several days; and as there are not many
blackbirds resident in the Park, it is evident that they come largely
from beyond the northern boundary. The line of flight lies up the
Firehole to the Upper Geyser Basin ; over Old Faithful Inn direct
to the Lone Star Geyser; then up the Firehole a little farther; across
a low ridge and down Shoshone Creek to Shoshone Lake ; around
tlie west end of Shoshone Lake and across to Lewis River, down
which they fly to the Snake River and so on .south to Jackson Lake.
The main flight takes place in the middle of September, but many
of the Park-bred birds remain in the Yellowstone three weeks
longer.

There is also a small flight of Cliff Swallows along the blackbirds'
route almost at the same time as the main blackbird flight, although
the resident swallows leave two weeks earlier. Evidently these later
birds, like the majoritv of the blackbirds, come from north of the
Park.

• THE BIRDS OF BEAVER MEADOWS

If the Yellowstone plateau was covered by a uniform growth of
forests, we would get but meager enjoyment from it. For no matter
how much we like the forest, we do not want to be shut in by it.
The numerous brooks and larger streams give beauty and variety
and charm to the forest, while the beaver meadows afford a delight-
ful setting for the streams and allow us space to form a proper
perspective of the whole.

To the bird student the meadows are of special interest, both for
their characteristic species and for the forest-loving birds that come
here to nest and feed along the margins. Apparently the birds
resemble us in liking forests, but do not care for too much of them.
Many of the birds found along the brooks and rivers are of course
to be found frequenting the meadows also, but the characteristic
meadow birds differ somewhat from those of the open. In a general
way the open country, except on steep slopes, is but a series of
larger and more diversified meadows; still, the low meadows are
damper, and I believe this accounts for the differing fauna. Gener-
ally speaking, the seed-eating birds are in the broad, open lands,
while the insect catchers take to the meadows and the neighboring
forest margins.

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Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

The meadows are everywhere along the streams and even about
springs high up on the mountains. Many of them are the result
of former beaver ponds. When a stream first starts, it cuts its
way down until it has formed a gully with more or less sloping
sides. The beaver find this gully and throw their dams across
it at favorable points, forming ponds and small lakes. The silt and
debris brought down from above collect in the beaver pond and
settle to the bottom. Should the beavers' staple food — quaking
aspen and willow — grow scanty after a few years, they will desert
this site for another. The dam thus left neglected will stand for
awhile but e\entua]Iy will go to pieces, allf)wing the water to drain
out and leaving behind .several years' accumulation of silt. Where
the food supi)ly was soon exhausted, this de])osit will be shallow;
but in cases where the food was more ample, the beaver will have
stayed through many generations and the de])f)sit will be heavy.
This silted deposit is rich, and in a shf)rl time after being drained will
become covered with a luxuriant growth of gras.ses, and the meadow-
stage has begun. It is still ton wet for trees, and for many years
it will remain oi)en, but finally willows will get a foothold. Some
of the ponds were formed in times remote, even as far back as the
glacial epoch. Swan Lake Basin represents the remains of such a
lake, of which the present pond is but a remnant.

Ducks, geese and .shorebirds are found about the meadows ; with
few exceptions all of tho.se that prefer the streams to other habitats
will pick out the sections where the streams are meadow bordered.
The broad, open meadows therefore af¥ord an excellent opportunity
to note such of the wild-fowl as are apt to seek these haunts to
preen and sun themselves. Especially so for Mallards and Geese.
Strange to relate, often the Geese are comparatively tame while
the Mallards are wild. Of course these are birds of passage not
used to taking advantage of the Park protection. But why such a
difiference? The Geese are much more wary elsewhere. Must we
give them credit for .sensing conditions sooner than the Mallards?
True, birds and mammals both exhibit a wonderfully quick percep-
tion of protection given them.

One of the most beautiful ducks of the meadow, the Sprig or
Pintail, is never found in the Park except in the small ponds of
wide open meadows and prairies. The W^ood Duck and the Green-
winged Teal are conceded to be the two handsomest of American
ducks, in so far as rich coloring goes ; but the Pintail's is a beauty
equally dependent on grace of form and carriage. Not that it lacks

Birds of the Y cUowstoiic I'ark

129

Iieautiful plumage, but the softly blended browns and grays are
simply appropriate to such a graceful bird. His head is well formed
and beautifully set upon a long, slender neck; his slim, graceful
body is very different from the stumpy, sc|uat affair that most ducks
are blessed with; while his wings are narrow and his tail has several
long plumes. As if to give point to all these beauties, the Pintail
is possessed of dignity and stateliness. This handsome bird arrives
early in the spring; the very first of the strictly migratory ducks
to appear in March. W'hen feeding along the edge of the small,
sedgy ponds that he prefers, with his long neck thrust under the
surface, he can usually reach what he needs; but if the water gets
a little deep he stands on his head to reach farther. Should the
roots be deep down and resistant, his feet and legs vibrate franti-
cally like paddle wheels.

The Great Blue Heron, who may sometimes be seen standing
quietly beside some stream or pond hunting frogs, is the only
member of the heron family to visit the Park, and he is here in
numbers. Although he stays all through the summer from May
to the middle of September, I have not yet succeeded in finding a
nest. This heron usually chooses a lower elevation than the Park,
at 5000 feet or less along the larger streams on the plains.

One of the great attractions of the beaver meadows, especialK
in May and June, is the morning concert given by Green-taile('I
Towhees, White-crowned Sparrows, Bluebirds and Robins, whiU
Western Tanagers and various warblers fly about, lending color tc
the scene by flashing their yellow plumes in the air. In .spite of their
family name, few of the wood warblers are noted for their songs,
True, they each have a song, but with most of them it is only a weak
affair. Perhaps they have no leisure time to spare from their
strenuous hunt for insects to develop a song. The great majority
of warblers in the Park are Audubons ; but as there are seven others
listed, the chance of seeing a rarer one is good. Truly America
is fortunate in having these dainty wood warblers for her own; and
as if to show how richly blessed she is, there is one set comprising
many species in the east, and another set in the mountains, while
the Pacific coast has still others. We have only one warbler in the
Park that is common to the east, the Yellow Warbler; so truly
American that it breeds throughout the continent. But our Audu-
bon W^arbler (pi. 4) bears a close resemblance to the eastern Myrtle
Warbler; our Western Yellow-throat is a sub-.species of the Mary-
land Yellow-throat; and our Pileolated Warbler closely resembles

5

I30

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

the Wilson Black-cap. The Townsend and Orange-crowned War-
blers are western birds that have no eastern counterparts. The
status of the Calaveras Warbler in the Yellowstone is hard to deter-
mine, as only the one specimen found dead in a gas cave has been
recorded. The Orange-crowned Warbler is a low-level species, seen
as yet only in the thickets along the lower Gardiner River. The
Townsend Warbler frequents the firs near Mammoth and at lower
altitudes; and he is very difficult to find in the dark conifer tops
and equally hard to watch on account of his sprightly, nervous
movements. The Audubon Warbler arrives early in May but the
other warblers are strictly summer birds of June, July and .Vugust.

The Macgillivray Warbler is not numerous but may be met with
anywhere in the meadows below 8000 feet. Doubtless it breeds
here, although I have never found its nest. Mr. Edmund J. Sawder
informs me that he discovered a nest of the Macgillivray with two
or three well-grown young, in a low bush at the edge of a brushy
glade just back of Camp Roosevelt, in 1922. It is a very striking
warbler with head, neck and breast covered as by an ashy hood.
This little chap is either so curious that he must stick his head out of
his leafy tangle to see who is there, or else he is so shy as to retreat
until only his bill and one bright eye remain in sight. At any rate,
about all that is seen of him is his face peering out as one passes by.
.Such an alluring glimpse cannot fail to set me hunting him up, but
I seldom see any more of him.

The Audubon W'arbler is an inhabitant of the edges of the forest
but he so often overlaps into the meadows that he is even more apt
to be seen there than when hunting through the tree-tops.

The Yellow Warbler is rather scarce but it is the only warbler
I)esides the Audubon and Macgillivray whose nest has been reported
from the Park. The Yellow Warbler's nest is to be found along the
Gardiner, placed in the willows and alders, usually built of grass
and very prettily lined with Cottonwood down, and contains about
foiu- dark, spotted, greenish eggs.

riie Pileolated Warbler, the western form of the AN'ilson W arbler,
is a beautiful little bird with his vivid yellow and green dress and
his glossy l)lack crown. Indeed it is that black cap which calls
attention to him. The willows bordering mountain streams at any
elevation up to 8000 feet are his favorite haunts; and although his
nest has not yet been found l)y me the sight of a family of young
ones near Obsidian Creek aroused suspicions that the nest had been
somewhere near. The Pileolated does not care for the higher trees

Birds of the Yellowstone Pork

as so many of his cousins do, but contents himself with flitting
through the low brush. His motions are quick and he is continually
on the go, though his confiding manners often lead him to stop and
look up at you with a winsome side glance from under the black
cap. As he makes his way through the brush, he runs up one twig
and down another, searching always and everywhere for his prey.
.\t times he bends over and gives a critical glance to the under side
of a leaf, or even hovers before it, hummingbird fashion.

But hummingbirds themselves frequent these flowery mountain
meadows. The West must give the palm to the East in the mailer
of warblers, but she is compensated by her sixteen species of hum-
mingbirds against the single one of the East. To be sure most of
these are natives of California and the Southwest; but in the Yel-
lowstone there are three, the Rufous, the Calliope, and the Broad-
lailed Hummingbird (flg. lo), but the last-named is very rare or
accidental. None of them are common and you will be fortunate
lo see even one. The Rufous Hummingbird is foxy red with a fiery
red, orange, or green threat, according as the light strikes it. He
has been found occasionally in the Upper Geyser Basin. The tiny
Calliope hummer is one of the smallest in America. He is a dainty
little mite just three inclies long, but when half of this is deducted
for the bill and tail there really isn't much left. As yet he has been
noticed only in the vicinity of Mammoth. The ways and habits of
these hummers are very similar to those of the Ruby-throat of
the East. They feed from flowers, are pugnacious to a degree, and
are so bold and daring in their attacks on larger birds that they
make us gasp with astonishment.

Another of the peculiarly interesting birds of the meadows,
although very differeent in character from the warblers and hum-
mers, is the Wilson Snipe. He is not abundant but is sometimes
seen by a warm spring, particularly during migration ; and may be
found often on his choice feeding grounds among the beaver ponds.
If when watching a woodi^ecker drilling for a grub, we have won-
dered if the food paid for the labor, what should we think of a
Snipe? We read that he "probes for his food in the soft mud,"
which sounds like a very comfortable, easy way of getting one's
living. But watch him at work and you will be quite ready to take
ofl:' your hat to him. Selecting the edge of a pond he begins opera-
lions with strokes as rapid as a woodpecker's, delivered with the
whole force of his body driving his two and a half-inch bill clear in
up to his eye. If we compare a woodpecker with a carpenter driv-

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

ing a spike, then we must compare the snipe's stroke to that of a
good axman who makes every ounce of his weight count. To
watch a Snipe drilling is to see an expert putting all his power where
it will tell. Nor is all of the work in the downward stroke, for the
little fellow often drives so hard it requires all his strength to pull
out his bill again. Working thus with great rapidity he covers a
strip a foot wide and five feet long in an hour! When he is at
work he gets something eatable every half dozen strokes or so, and
he will sometimes work steadily for two hours or even three, and
at the end, it seems safe to say, will have every worm and edible
insect in the ground he has covered. No doubt it is this intensive
gleaning that enables him to winter so far north. Here in the
Yellowstone where twenty degrees below zero is common, he stays
and gains a good living from a few square feet of soft ground near
a warm spring.

There is one, at least, of the inhabitants of the meadow willow
thickets which never fails to arouse interest when first seen. It is
a blackbird ; a fine large one, with a white patch on his wing, and
with his head, neck and chest covered by a bright yellow hood that
gives him the name of Yellow-headed Blackbird. Being a true
blackbird, this fellow makes no pretension to being a Caruso among
birds, but he does his best, and that is at least novel and compelling.
There are not so many of the Yellow -heads as there are Brewers,
but enough to lend variet)^ to the life of the marshes.

A singular woodpecker that is sometimes seen in the meadows is
the Lewis Woodpecker, named for Captain Lewis of the Lewis and
Clark expedition. And why is he singular? Because he looks black
at a distance and even has some blackbird ways to confuse the
observer. He usually perches on boughs crosswise like other birds
and frequently flies down to the ground after grasshoppers as if
he were a Meadowlark. Many a budding naturalist has trouble with
this bird ; he sees what he thinks is a blackbird in the road and so
notes it ; but a moment later the "blackbird" springs up and clings
to the side of a telephone pole as no other self-respecting blackbird
would, or could.

Such small and inconspicuous tree-loving birds are the flycatchers
that it is only about the more open meadows that they can be
readily recognized. There are eight of the family listed here, but
with the exception of the Kingbird and the Phcebe all are small.
The Say Phoebe is the form here, the brown breast distinguishing
it from the eastern bird, of which it is the counterpart in every
other respect.

Birds of the Vcllo7Vsfo)ir Park

133

Among sparrows, the Savannah is a true denizen of tlie meadows
and yet his presence may not he suspected until you take a ramhle
across country. Then you will find him everywhere in the higher
meadows — the Vesper taking his place on the lower, hotter levels.
A mysterious little fellow ; as you walk along he si)rings up from
the grass at your feet, zigzags off for a hundred feet or so and —
is swallowed up by the grass again. How is one ever to see enough
of him to know him ! Take a walk early in the morning and you
will find him singing merrily from the top of a stub or a bush, and
he may even select a telephone pole or wire. If on the pole, you
have a good chance to see him as he throws back his head, puffs
out his chest, and pours out his low-keyed melody; if he selects the
wire, he is apt to sing so vigorously and forgetfully as to twitch
himself off the wire. Then he picks himself tip in mid-air with a
dazed expression of "What happened, anyway?" His song is not
loud, but it is to be presumed that the little wife on the nest in the
grass thinks it is of the very finest. So intent is the singer that if
you flush him, he will start singing again as soon as he alights.
Flush him again and he flies of¥ with a highly injured air. The
summer days are not long enough for this musician, but he must
begin at an unearthly hour in the morning. At my camp in early
June in the Nez Perce valley he commenced singing at 3 :30 a. m.,
and was at concert pitch by four o'clock. If you really want to see
the dainty little songster, take a walk through the Gibbon Meadows ;
the place is alive with .Savannah Sparrows and their kin.

THE WHITE PELICANS OF YELLOWSTONE LAKE

Taking second place only to the Osprey, the White Pelican
(Pelecanus erythrorliynchos) is of extreme interest to the Yellow-
stone Park tourists, especially when they reach the Lake and its
vicinity. It is a noticeable bird by virtue of its great beauty when
swimming on the surface of its beautiful mountain lake, and also
when flying past, often at close range. On the water it is grace
personified, and moves serenely along like a ship under full sail.
At such times it carries its head well back and close to the shoulders,
and the deep pouch seems to be drawn up close under the long bill.
The pure white plumage, except for the black wing tips, makes it
conspicuous and recognizable a long distance away. So great is
its beauty and size that the first view is almost sure to rouse an
enthusiastic cry of "Swan ! .Swan !" The Pelican is even more
majestic in flight. The main auto-road runs for some distance along

134

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

the Yellowstone River on its way from the Yellowstone Lake to
Hayden Valley, and these great birds have become so indifferent to
the passing machines that there is a peculiarly fine opportunity for
the tourists to see at very close range the great spread of wings,
often as much as ten feet, and to hear the soft "fluf fluf" of the
moving pinions.

Pelicans have been reported from Yellowstone Lake ever since
1870, but were not stated to be breeding there until 1890 C Linton,
'91, p. 344), although it is probable that they nested there long
before the earlier date. They seem to be holding their own in point
of numbers, for my visits since 1898 have shown about the same
number each year save in those extraordinary seasons when unusu-
ally high water caused the waves and cold spray to dash across
their breeding grounds on Molly Island. Outside the Park, the
number of colonies has steadily decreased before the westward
advance of civilization ; but this has been balanced to some extent
by an increase in the number of birds in some of the colonies. Here
in the Park almost all the Pelicans are to be found on Yellowstone
Lake and scattered along the outlet for a few miles to the north.
Occasionally I have found them on Heart, Lewis and Shoshone
Lakes, and on Snake River, but only as single transients. Pelican
Creek and Valley are not regularly resorted to by more than a
half-dozen birds. Pelicans are very fond of visiting sand and gravel
bars and beaches, and even the mud bars of Yellowstone Lake, to
sun themselves and to preen and sleep ; and they do the same thing
at similar places along the outlet. Upon a few occasions I have
found them perched upon partly submerged rocks in the Lake and
outlet, when there were no waves to make things unpleasant. I
have never seen one of these birds in a tree, and only once or twice
have I found one on a stump cast up on the beach.

Most of a Pelican's movements are slow and dignified. Yet he
is a strong swimmer, even to the point of riding the waves during
Yellowstone's worst storms. His w'ing power is fully proven by
habitual flights of many miles in search of food. WHien driving
schools of small fish before him he moves quickly and expertly,
and there is no trace of heaviness or clumsiness.

The big white bird's behavior varies a good deal with conditions,
and allowances have to be made accordingly. W hen fishing or
when flying to and from the fishing grounds he is more or less soli-
tary, and at the same time unsuspicious. On his breeding grounds,
he must behave as only one of a large colony, owing to limited area

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

135

of suitable island nesting grounds (fig. 46), and is quite wary there.
Near the breeding grounds, individuals of both sexes often go
through a series of wonderful flights and maneuvers that involve
large flocks of the huge birds. As a rule a Pelican is peaceable,
although undignified scjuabbles frequently take place near the nests.

Nor does the Pelican seek society with other species. Yet it is
often seen associating with small flocks of Buffle-heads, Barrow
Golden-eyes, Canada Geese, American Mergansers, and even Mal-
lards. Its breeding ground is shared only with the California Gulls
and Spotted Sandpipers, so far as I could definitely determine. But
there is a fourth bird that I have noted on Molly Island, the Caspian
Tern. I have seen small flocks there on four occasions in late May
and early June, and once on July 5 when the birds had the black
cap and the coral-red bill of the breeding season (see pi. 2), and
yet I could not actually find the terns' nests. But since the above
was written, young Caspian Terns, too small to fly, have been found
on Molly Island by Alvin G. \\'hitney and Edmund J. Sawyer,
August 24, 1922.

Young Pelicans in the nest have the adjacent nesting Gulls to be
fearful of during the first few hours of their life (fig. 45), and I
have no doubt that a good many are killed and eaten. But the only
enemy that the adult Pelican has is the coyote that occasionally suc-
ceeds in catching one. When away from the protection of their
island, the Pelicans sometimes get into trouble, as I discovered one
summer day. A small flock of perhaps a dozen birds had come
close inshore near the mouth of a small brook where a huge boulder
afiforded cover for the cautious approach of enemies, and there
I watched two coyotes stalking them. Pelican meat is a fishy and
greasy food, but evidently the coyotes are fond of it, or perhaps
this particular pair had a hungry litter of pups at home awaiting
them. By slow, careful creeping through the meadow grass the
coyotes reached the rock ; but their birds were still too far away
to be caught b}- a sudden rush. The eager pair waited long and
patiently, but in vain, for the birds to come nearer, until the
approaching darkness finally caused a change of tactics. The larger
of the two coyotes allowed the tip of a waving tail to show beside
the rock. The birds noticed it and curiosity getting the better of
them, they swam almost to shore. But when the smaller coyote
made the rush the distance was still too far and the Pelicans escaped
by a short flight out into the lake. When I saw the coyotes lose
this chance, I thought they would give up. But no, they had another

136

Ronsci'eU IJ'ild f.ifc Bulletin

trick to try and it was a good one, too! I he coyote on the beach
played about until the inquisitive pelicans were drawn in closer.
Without a glance at the hoped-for prey the wily animal then trotted
up the meadow, adjoining the beach, in plain sight of the birds.
Apparently she had given up the hunt. Just then an elk strode out
on the beach, and as he came opposite the boulder he drove out the
second and larger coyote which would soon have had one of those
birds. Did that teach the Pelicans to beware of that rock? Not
at all ? Now they were sure that there was nothing behind it. But
a quick, swift rush of a third coyote (that I had not seen) from
another direction caught one of their number. A fluttering struggle
was followed by the coyote tossing the great bird over his shoulder
and trotting off after his companions.

Some of the Pelicans are infested with a tapeworm (Dibothrium
cordiceps) in the intestinal tract. From this position the tapeworm
discharges its eggs out into the lake with the excreta from the
Pelican. The eggs are eaten by the native trout which then become
the unwitting hosts of the worms in their larval, or intermediate
stage. The eating of the trout by the Pelican permits the worm
to develop to the adult, and thus completes the life cycle. I have
not noticed that these parasites actually destroy any Pelicans, or
even affect their health to an appreciable extent.

Near noon each day there is a change of birds on the nests on
Molly Island and this affords a wonderful sight in the aerial evolu-
tions of large flocks of Pelicans that mount high into the air and
whirl and maneuver with a skill and dexterity and majestic beauty
very surprising to one accustomed only to the apparently clumsy
l)irds in our zoological gardens. Acquaintance with the birds here
in their chosen, native haunt shows them to be as strong and grace-
ful as their great spread of wing would indicate. It is my impres-
sion that the flocks follow the leadership of a wise old female if any
is present ; otherwise, the most sagacious of the males. How long
a Pelican lives, on the average, has not yet been determined, but
]irobably it is fairly long-lived ; and this bears directly therefore
on the skill developed by the leaders and the consequent safety of
the species. The leader of a flock shows even better command than
in the case of flying geese. When returning from their fishing
excursions, the flocks are small and tlie Pelicans fly in line; and
as a rule they vary their wing-beats with sliort stretches of coasting
upon deeply bowed wings. At the end of the glide, the leader loses
headway first — presumably because the first bird is subjected to

Birds of flic YeUorvstone Park

139

greater wind pressure than the ones behind — and recommences his
strokes hrst, followed shortly after by the second bird ; then the
third, fourth, and succeeding birds take up the change at accurately
timed intervals until the whole line is in strong, even flight with all
the wings beating together in perfect time. Where the big birds
come flying in to alight near shore or at the fishing grounds, they
descend to the water in circles and then slide into it very gracefully
and without much splash.

Pelicans have no song, nor have the adults any call-notes. Even
the young have only a food call, a low grunt at times rising to a
shrill scream.

In the Yellowstone Park, the first of the returning Pelicans arrive
early in May ; but the lake being usually still closed by ice, the early
comers spend most of their time on the open outlet. For a month
the number steadily increases until there are about seven hundred
birds. In August, the Pelicans begin to depart, especially the non-
breeders and those relieved early of home cares, so that by Septem-
lier 5 practically all are gone. Dates of their arrival and departure
lor a number of years are summarized as follows :

In 1914, first

seen May 10, last

seen Sept.

17

1915- "

" April 28, "

" Sept.

.S

1916, "

" May 12, "

" Sept.

10

1917, "

" May 15, "

" Sept.

8

1919, "

" May 4, "

" Sept.

10

1920, "

" May 20, "

" Sept.

5

1921, "

" May 10, "

" Sept.

15

1922, "

" May 23, "

" Sept.

1 1

The total number of about 700 are present on an average of 96 days
per season. Average breeding pairs number approximately 250,
and non-breeders number about 200 individuals. The young reared
per average season number about 150, although between 400 and
500 eggs are laid.

Very little is known about the winter home of our Yellowstone
Pelicans, but they are for the most part believed to retire to the
head (jf the (iulf of California, near the mouth of the Coloradf)
River.

The White Pelican gets his food by scooping uj) iish as he swims
along. Often a school of small fish are driven into a sheltered cove
where a sudden rush and a violent plunge secures a pouchful. One
afternoon I was encamped near the mouth of Grouse Creek at the
southern end of the South Arm on Yellowstone Lake, where the
water is very shallow for a long distance from shore. Twenty

140

Rnoscrcll Wihl Life Bitllcfin

Pelicans were in sight when 1 arrived, then came a flock of fifteen,
then a flock of seven, and then more l)y ones and twos until there
were over sixty. The.se then formed a long irregular semi-circle
with the birds approximately twelve feet apart, and advanced
towards shore with the ends of the line gradually closing in in front
and the birds drawing closer together. Occasionally a bird, as if
getting impatient, would lunge forward in a wild grab, but other-
wise tlic line was well preserved until w'ithin a hundred feet of
shore and in water that I afterwards found to be about nine inches
deep. Then the whole line of Pelicans began to break and each
bird rushed forward with feet just touching the surface of the
water and the wings beating violently. After rushing twenty or
thirty feet, each bird plunged forward through the spray and thrust
bill and pouch under. From my knowledge of the conditions there,
I was inclined to think they were after small fish such as chub and
suckers rather than trout. It is said that White Pelicans do not dive,
yet on at least one occasion while riding along the shore of Yellow-
stone River I saw one do that very thing. It was swimming on the
surface where the water was clear and about four feet deep, and
suddenly sprang forward and down after the manner of a Grebe. It
went clear under the surface and immediately came up again, but
I could not say whether it caught any fish. I have never seen a
White Pelican ])lunge from a height as Ospreys and Brown Pelicans
love to do. The pouch is used to separate the fish from the water,
the latter escaping from the side of the pouch; but is not used to
carry the fish in. They are swallowed immediately; although they
may afterwards be regurgitated to feed the young. Sometimes I
have seen a Pelican rob a Merganser after a chase and considerable
scuffling.

It has always been a matter of curiosity with me where our
Pelicans catch their food, and I suspect that they eat frogs, tadpoles,
salamanders and crawfish as well as fish. In the course of years
of observations, including many counts, I have tabulated sufficient
data to indicate that no great number of Pelicans fish on Yellow-
stone River below the lake, twenty-six being the greatest number
seen there at any one time. Day-long watches have shown Pelicans
going up and clown the ri\er but I never could convince myself that
there were more than sixty or seventy birds so engaged. Pelicans
do not fish on the open lake, and they do not fish near the breeding
ground at Molly Island. On trips around the lake in a canoe, along
the entire shoreline I have never seen more than a dozen single

Birds of the YcIlo7vstonc Park

141

Pelicans fishing', and these usually at the mouth of streams, except
once or twice a year when I have witnessed a drive as detailed
above. Nor have I observed over six a day visit the Pelican Valley,
where they get small fish ; and the visits of Pelicans to Heart, Lewis
and Shoshone Lakes are so rare as to be negligible ; I am therefore
able to account for the fishing grounds of only one-seventh of our
birds. I believe they may raid the fish traps at Cub and Columbine
Creeks where the trout are penned in ; but still it seems likely that
some of our Pelicans at least regularly visit fishing grounds outside
the Park. On May 29, some }-ears ago, I was on Flat Mountain
Arm shortly after noon, and hence just after the brooding birds
had been relieved at the Molly Island nests. On glancing upward
I counted a flock of 63 Pelicans high up and flying south towards
Snake River and Jackson Lake, and soon after another flock of 22
followed the first. This seems very significant, and further inves-
tigation should disclose exact and interesting data on their fishing
grounds.

While I have made no special observations on the bathing habits
of the White Pelican, I have seen them preen and dress their fea-
thers at more or less regular intervals. Once I observed a bird
standing on the shore with wings wide open, as if drying and airing
its feathers.

No courtship peculiarities have been noted by me, unless the flight
maneuvers near Molly Island in May and June have such signifi-
cance. The homy knobs on the bills of both sexes reach their
greatest devehjpment in late May (see pi. 2) ; by the middle of
June they begin to be shed, and before the end of the month all
have fallen. At the same time the color of bill and pouch and the
bare skin around the eyes loses the red tinge of the breeding season
and remains yellow until another season comes around. The white
nuchal crest is also at its prime in May, but is replaced some ten
days later than the falling of the bill knobs, by plain gray feathers
on the crown and nape.

The White Pelican is said not to breed along the seacoast, but in
springtime it resorts to the inland lakes of the Great Basin and
the Plains, from Salton Sea on the south to as far north as Fort
Smith in northern Canada. It breeds farther east in Canada than
it does in this country, reaching the lakes in Manitoba. In the
LTnited States the range formerly extended east to Chase Lake,
North Dakota, and even into Minnesota; but now Yellowstone Lake
is the most eastern of the large colonies although we are pleased

142

Roosevelt JJlld Life Bulletin

to hear lately that a few scattered birds still nest in Minnesota and
Dakota. It speaks well for this bird's adaptability that it can
accommodate itself ecjually well to the moist, showery atmosphere
of Manitoba, the cold heights of the Yellowstone, the northern wilds
of Great Slave Lake, the plains of Saskatchewan, the deserts sur-
rounding Great Salt Lake and Pyramid Lake, and the extreme heat
of Salton Sea. Otherwise, the peculiar conditions essential to a
Pelican's nesting site could not be so easily met. First, there must
be an inexhaustible supply of fish. The kind of fish is not so
important, for this bird eats the pickerel and small fry of muddy
Canadian lakes as readily as he does the toothsome trout of crystal-
clear Py ramid Lake and Yellowstone waters. Second, as the bird
caimot walk well the nest must be near the water. Third, with these
ground-nesting birds the site must be low to permit access to the
water where the young swim long before they can fly. Fourth,
as both parents and downy young are white, the nesting must be on
an island to give protection against predatory animals. Fifth and
most important, the island must be remote, to afiford privacy. Hence
Pelicans are restricted to large bodies of water remote — or at least
protected from man — and containing low islands.

As soon as the ice of Yellowstone Lake disappears, and a little
before that, if the season is late, the Pelicans resort to two small
islets, together known as Molly Island, and located in the southern
end of the Southeast Arm of Yellowstone Lake. They are an
eighth of a mile apart, each islet about 400 feet long by 200 feet
wide, witii their summits eight or ten feet above low water. But
little soil being ])resent, the expanse of .sand and gravel is relieved
only by a trifling amount of vegetation on one islet and a few
bedraggled bushes. They are protected to some extent in a bay with
the shore to the west and south, less than a mile away; but in times
of high water, a fierce wind sweeps waves and spray across them
in cjuantities sufficient to destroy the eggs by undue chilling, a dis-
aster that occurs i)erhaps once in twenty years.

My first visit to ]\Iolly Island was in 189S, and during each .season
I find a ne\ ei -failing pleasure in revisiting this bird colony. It i,•^
accessible from the Lake Hotel or Lake Camp by either motor
launch or small boat. As one approaches Molly Island he is met
a mile out by a California Gull or two, circling overhead and scream-
ing vociferously; and as he draws nearer the Gulls and their hubbub
increase, but the more dignified Pelicans remain until the intruder
is two or three liundred yards away, when they beat a slow retreat

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

M3

(fig. 46). If the eggs are hatcliing or the j'oung are still small,
the adults fly out only a few hundred yards and alight; but later
in the season, the parents may fly far out of sight. The first egg
is usually laid about May 25 and incubation begins a week later
after another egg or two have been laid. There is little attempt
at nest building, the large white eggs being placed within a slightly
raised rim of sand and pebbles without other nest materials. Both
sexes share in incubation, nest relief taking place about noon each
day, and, I have reason to believe, again at midnight. It is impossible
to tell the sexes apart, so that I have no wa}' of knowing whether the
females are on the nest in the morning, rather than the afternoon, or
if there is any regularity at all. The incubation period is unknown
but believed to be less than a month. The nestlings remain in these
ground nests about two weeks although they cannot fly for a month
longer.

When first hatched, the Pelicans are helpless little creatures,
naked, blind, and so weak that they are barely able to move about
in the shallow hole that holds them. After two weeks their ruddy
little bodies are covered with whitish down, affording them at least
some protection from the hot sun, and they now begin to move
about. The parents are devoted to their offspring, shielding them
from the sun, feeding them liberally on regurgitated fish, and leav-
ing them \ery reluctantly. If a person approaches their nest, and
the young are large enough to walk, they follow their parents to
the far edge of the islet and then attempt to swim out to where
their parents have flown. After the intruder lea\es, thev return
to their nests. I never could see just how the adults ever distin-
guished their own young, but they must have some unerring
method, for I have seen a parent return with fish and refuse to
open his, or her, bill until the youngster that appeared to be the
right one was found. With the bill and pouch open, and a little
regurgitated fish in the pouch, the old bird patiently allows the
youngster to prod about and even to search throat and gullet until
he appears liable to disappear down it altogether. Only one young
at a time is fed. As a rule not more than one bird in a brood reaches
maturity. There is therefore a great disparity between the number
of eggs laid and the nestlings that grow up. One year I counted
more than five hundred eggs, but there were only a hundred and
seventy young birds left in mid-August. This emphasizes the pre-
carious existence of even the Yellowstone colony, unless carefully
protected. What becomes of the other young ones is more than

144

Roosevelt IVih! Life BtiUehn

I know. A few younjj birds are killed by exposure to the sun; and
jjerhaps the gulls that nest adjacent to them develop an inordinate
appetite for Pelican eggs and nestlings. The little Pelicans grow
rapidly and keep in a compact flock whether on shore or while
swimming (figs. 44, 47).

This Yellowstone colony bids fair to maintain itself, with the
protection being given it by the government. While the juvenile
mortality is high, enough young survive to keep up the number.
Pelicans are hardy birds and their great danger is the encroachment
of civilization. On Molly Island they .seem secure, as they are too
far from the tourist centers to he visited often; and the government
decreed (1920, 192 1 and 1922) that landing on Molly Lsland should
not be permitted until after July 25 each year in order to prevent
disturbing the newborn young.

THE MALLARD IN YELLOWSTONE PARK WATERS

Sometimes Mallards may be found on large lakes like the
Yellowstone, particularly at its south end, and Shoshone Lake, but
they much prefer bays, smaller lakes, ponds, sloughs, or even a
pool of muddy water from melting snow, and they appear partial
to beaver ponds. In the same way they may be seen along the
large Yellowstone River but are much more numerous on smaller
streams and even tiny rills of water from some spring or in ditches.
.Sometimes they even follow up small brooks into the dense forest.
In the winter they live along the rivers kept open by hot water, seek
sheltered nooks out of the cold wind, and even search out the spots
that receive the first morning sun. In winter it is warmer down
near the water than in the upi)er air but evidently the warm sun-
light is also welcome. Should a thaw set in, the Mallards at once
.search out the open areas of water, especially pools of snow water,
sometimes leaving the open river where they have been all winter.
In the spring, they are numerous in the snow water along the edges
of ice of the still frozen main part of lakes or ponds. In the early
mornings, before the sun has melted the previous night's freeze,
they collect about the springs or seek the edge of the ice on the
water kept open by waves or current ; but later in the day they make
their way out into the new grass or flooded margins, or frequent
the snow water collecting in pools on the flats. Even in summer
after a heavy rain, they like to forsake regular bodies of water and
wander through the flooded meadow grass, and they also prefer
to be in the reeds along shore rather than out on the open water.

Birds of ihc Ycllowsfonc Park

147

In the fall, they begin congregating on i)()nds and small lakes. In
1922, at "muskrat pond," near Mammoth, there were 53 Mallards
on September 24th, 88 on the 26th, 88 on the 29th, 91 on October
3rd, 127 on the 8th, 131 on the 13th, and 140 on the i6th. And as the
small ponds freeze, on the approach of colder weather, they seek
larger lakes of two or three scjuare miles in area in huge numbers,
and are then much more numerous along the Yellowstone River
between Yellowstone Lake and the Canyon, sometimes flying down
as far as the Lower Fall, but almost always returning immediately.
W'iien they come out to rest and preen on shore their gray backs
'blend perfectly with the dried stones. Mallards c|uite frequently
seek the reservoir at Mammoth Hot Springs in winter and spring
when the traffic is less.

A peculiar feature of Park wild life is its seeking of the warm
waters as winter approaches. Then the Mallards search out such
rivers as the Gardiner, Yellowstone, Firehole and Gibbon, and Yel-
lowstone Lake at the Thumb, which receive enough hot water to
keep them open ; and a portion stay in such places all winter. In
some years Mallard, Green-winged Teal and Wilson Snipe have
wintered on the overflow below Jupiter Terrace, and after they
first left in March an extra cold morning brought them back again
temporarily. They have actually been seen on Jupiter Terrace itself
in the somewhat cooler water where it overflowed the basins. Even
in summer such warm waters as Tvu'bid Lake are favorite haunts.
One evening at Bath Lake near Mammoth, after the tourists had
left, I found Mallards dropping in through the steam, to swim about
a little before preening themselves. Sometimes they visit the imme-
diate vicinity of geysers, but they may do this because of insects
that are also attracted by the heat ; still, I have seen Mallards flying
over the Grand Geyser while it was in eruption. In some places
the warm waters overflow and keep bare of vegetation a certain
tract that is favored by Mallards which even make their way up,
and astonishly close, to the hot spring. They are also given to
making their way through the tules kept growing by warm lime
water ne?r the Mammoth power house.

Mallards are such expert swimmers that even the ducklings
tumble into the water as soon as they leave the egg; certainly they
swim as soon as they can walk, and with far greater ease. In rapids
the adults swim from eddy to edd)' ; rapidly in the narrow strips
of current, and easing up as they enter the eddy. They are not at
all disconcerted by "white water" and the dashing spray; indeed,
they take great (JeUght in such rapids, There is nothing in the

14^ Roosevelt Wild Life Bnlletm

( iardiner River too rough for them — they drop down over falls
three feet high and at the bottom may go out of sight in the foam
and spray. In one instance I saw a drake thrown by the current
against a submerged rock, but he did not mind at all, for, instead of
swimming around and away, he walked right over and swam off the
other side. When on the water, Mallards usually scatter out more
than other shoal- water ducks. While the government's protection
here causes them to lose their fear of man, they are nevertheless
wide awake and alert, as many a hawk and mink have discovered.

Still, it is strange how completely the birds breeding in the Park
have lost their fear of man, and they contrast very strongly with
the wild migratory Mallards which pass through in April and again
in October. They sun themselves on the boulders of the streams
or sleep on the bars and flats while one goes by within a few yards,
or if he does approach a little too clo.se they merely enter the water
and swim out a short way. If the stream be narrow, they swim
across and then walk up the far side away from the disturbers.
Along the Gardiner River, they sun themselves or "tip" for food
absolutely unconcerned by the highway traffic passing within a few
feet. After wintering on the overflow from Jupiter, as mentioned
above, they became so tame as to merely walk to one side of my
path when I passed between them and the reservoir they were
supposed to be on. Once I found a flock of seven at the Alum Creek
bridge so fearless that they would not leave the causeway w^hen I
drove m)- car over, and only swam out twenty feet when I walked
up to them. At "muskrat pond" they would all swim to the far
end of the pond, and as I walked past they all swam back to the
starting i)oint ; but when I drove my car along the road they gave
me no attention whatever unless I stopped opposite them. \\'hile
driving along the .shore of Turbid Lake the ^Mallards preened on
the logs beside the road absolutely indifferent to me while the car
kept inoi'iiu/, but were up and away instantly if the car stopped
b'.vidently they thought it looked rather suspicious when I .stopped
just at that place. At the same time that the Mallards were so
lame along the main road, they were mtich wilder when farther from
the travel.

While Mallards are found with ^Mergansers, Golden-eyes, Pintails,
I'lue-winged Teal, Green-winged Teal and Baldpates in summer.
I cannot say that they are together for company's sake. I have
noted too much data to the opposite effect, such as "Mallards flock
by themselves"; "IMallards near Golden-eyes but not associating

Birds of the ]'rl!o7(.'shuic Park

149

with tliein"; "Mallard at southern end of Swan Lake, Baldpate
at northern end"; "Mallard and Teal on muskrat pond but dis-
tinctly not together and even drew further apart when they saw
me." In the autumn Alallards, Baldpates, Redheads, Canvas-backs,
Blue-bills, Buffle-heads, Barrow Golden-eyes, Golden-eyes, Shovel-
lers, Geese and Swans are often seen in dense masses on small ponds,
especially if a heavy wind is driving' them from the larger waters.
In the .spring, I have seen them with Butfle-heads and Ruddy Ducks
in an opening in the rotting ice on Yellowstone Lake. I have seen
them at play with a flock of Green-winged Teal in a slough having
nuid banks and bottom, quacking together sociably, chasing each
other, and swimming rapidly and dabbling joyously in the shallow
water. Sometimes I have seen some strange gatherings; once a
beautiful Mallard drake on a submerged bar of Gibbon River, while
on the meadow near him was a big beaver stripping a willow twig
— and then a pair of Teal came buzzing into the picture ; once three
big bull moose crashed through a quiet pool ju.st as a flock of Mai
lards left in dismay ; and once I found a Mallard, a Red-winged
Pdackbird, and a Killdeer together at the warmest part of the over-
flow from Jupiter Terrace while the cold north wind drove the
snow past in wispy gusts. Again, I flushed a Mallard, a Wilson
.^nipe and a Water Ouzel together.

Mallards and their ducklings show no fear when the big Ospreys
plunge within a few feet. Once I saw a Golden Eagle swoop at a
flock of Mallards on a pond, but he did not get any. Fortunately,
Duck Hawks and Goshawks are rare. I often find coyotes hunt-
ing near Mallard waters and see their tracks where they have
sneaked along waters known to be frequented by Mallards; and one
May day I found the remains of a Mallard that had probably been
caught and eaten by a coyote. I have even seen Mallards flushed
by swimming muskrats and beaver.

Mallards are such swift and powerful flyers that on approaching
a little pond closely surrounded by aspens, they set their wings when
directly above and perhaps sixt)^ feet up, and come down with a
rush. Sometimes when I disturb them, they swim across a small
river and then flush when they reach the far side. When they do
flush, Mallards are quite apt to jump straight up, especially if there
is anything in the way like a bank or a grove of trees, holding their
bodies almost perpendicular as they go. If on the water, Mallards
are likely to swim a little and scatter slightly before flushing.

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

As a rule the Mallard ducks quack louder and more frequently
than the drakes ; I have seen the bill of a drake at fifty feet moving;
as if quacking, but if he made a noise it was so soft that I could
not hear it.

Mallards along the Gardiner River seem much more numerous
on a cold winter morning than on a warmer morning at the same
season. On February 9, the day after zero weather, there were
81 seen along the river; but five days later, after a four-day thaw,
there were only 15 along the same stretch. During the winter and
even in January, a sudden cold increases the number, and they are
apt to move up towards the mouth of Boiling River where that
stream enters the Gardiner and warms it up. At such times they
are usually to be found in the morning at the very first point the
rising and warming sun touches. With the coming of warmer
mornings in late February, the Mallards along the Gardiner become
uneasy and apparently send scouts up the river above the open
water (for this river freezes above the mouth of Boiling River, a
stream from Mammoth Hot Springs, and is always open below 'I
even while there is a good deal of ice up there. A day or two later,
if the warm spell continues, there is a marked movement, and I
find them wherever there is a little open water. In fact as soon
as there is any open water, whether permanent or temporarj', there
are Mallards on it. I b.ave even seen them on a little puddle of
water near the still frozen Swan Lake, but contentedly doing their
best until the bigger water opened. INIallards come in from the
south as early as March 5 and steadily augment in numbers, but
those that do not stay for the summer leave during April. In late
September the returning migratory birds, noticeable because of their
marked wildness, begin to appear, especially along the Yellowstone
River and on the medium-sized lakes where they become abundant
in October. As the waters freeze they congregate still more thickly
in the open pools before the majority leave. The numbers in the
Park are at their lowest ebb in January but gradually increase until
July — the northerly migration causing little, if any, increase
because our waters are still frozen when the birds come up from
the .South; then the young birds maturing and the southerly migra-
tion cause a more rapid increase until November, when there is a
sharp falling off as the southbound birds depart. I do not believe
the temperature affects their movements so much as the freezing
over of their feeding grounds, ^\'hile Mallards like to sleep in a
W&im, sunny nook under the lee of a bank, I have seen them tipping

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

along the Gardiner River in tlie coldest of winter weather. Still,
a sudden cold spell early in the season causes surprising movements.
A heavy snowstorm in September drove a Mallard Duck to a wash-
ing trough near a Ranger Station for three days. The October
storm of 1919 mas.sed the Mallards along the Gardiner in unheard-of
numbers. But in spite of temporary movements like these, they
usually stay each year until the actual freezing of their waters drives
them out.

Mallards secure most of their vegetable food by "tipping" in
shallow water, or in unfrozen parts of a pond, or by merely skim-
ming it from the surface. During the tipping Mallards stay under
water for from three to five seconds. On the first of October most
of the ]\Iallards on Lava Pond were tipping, but at least one dove
under, "ker-plop" ; two weeks later there were a number of them
diving, though rather awkwardly. By the 20th all the Mallards on
that pond \\ere diving and staying entirely under water for five to
seven seconds and becoming quite expert. Most of the tipping is
done on shallow ponds, but I have seen it in running water, espe-
cially along shore. In places they pick up oats where dropped from
the trucks along the roadways. For some reason I found Mallards
very fond of dabbling and feeding on a small muddy pond of cooled
geyser water at the Upper Geyser Basin from October 15 to 20 as
soon as the water thawed out each morning.

Often I see both ducks and drakes bathing by thrusting their
heads under the surface and with a jerk causing water to run up
over their backs, fluttering their wings at the same time. After
about five of these showers, they stand up erect on a stone and flap
their wings rapidly. Then they preen themselves, dress and oil
their feathers, hoist one leg and go to sleep, especially if there is a
warm sun. They may be observed bathing and preening even in
cold February. I have often seen them preening and sleeping on a
muskrat house. It seems quite the thing for a IMallard to preen
after eating. Often they dress their feathers and sun themselves
on the gravel bars along the Lamar and Yellowstone Rivers. On
one occasion I found some Mallards preening on a half-submerged
log beside the road, indififerent to passing traffic.

The flocks usually break up into pairs early in May, though a
large number of the winter residents stay mated all winter; and
when in pairs, the female almost always quacks the alarm and
flushes first. Once I started a pair where the duck was twenty feet
farther away, but still she jumped first. This habit of the duck

Roosevelt Wild JAfe Bulletin

preceding the drake 1 liave noticed especially in April, May and
June, or during practically the whole time that the birds are mated;
and in winter the same rule is followed where there is any differ-
ence at all, for generally at that time they get away together.

While some Mallards are in pairs all winter along the Gardiner
River, there is an a\erage of two drakes to each duck, and under
-^uch conditions I often find three drakes with a single duck. In
January I find about 40 per cent paired, but gradually the unat-
tached find partners and the proportion increases to 100 per cent
paired by March i, when the first migratory birds begin to arrive.
Then the real mating begins, in which a kind of bowing by male to
female is the active sign of courtship.

The drakes retain their breeding plumage (see pi. 2) as late as
June 18, and after the molt they begin to show green on the heads
and chestnut on the breast by September 11, and two weeks later
are in full plumage.

Mallards and Rlue-winged Teal use the .sloughs and beaver
ponds of the Upper Yellowstone as one vast breeding ground. The
young are hatched in broods of five to eight from June i to August
10, and are ready to run, swim and dive as soon as dry. Although
I have found some of them almost grown and able to fly by July
25, I have never found any evidence of second broods and believe
the late nests to have been delayed for some other reason. My
observations correlate the nesting dates with altitude, as Mallards
were found hatched, as follows :

Soda Butte Creek, at 6600 ft., June 3

Yellow^stone Park, at 6500 " June 17

Lava Creek beaver pond, at 6500 " June 22

"muskrat pond," near Mammoth, at 6400 " June 22

Beaver Lake, at 7400 " June 24

Alum Creek, at 7700 " July i

Trout Creek, at 7700 " July i

It would therefore seem that the time is roughly dependent on
elevation of the nesting place above sea level ; not a strange conclu-
sion when we realize that vegetation is three weeks later in the
Park at 7700 feet than at 6500 feet.

Once, on the weedy edge of a pond I came upon a family of these
ducks with five ducklings. At the alarm note of the mother, the
youngsters do\ e and clung to weeds at the bottom of the shallow
water while the mother fluttered at my horse's feet with a pretended
broken wing.

Birds of the YcUotvstonc Park

153

THE TRUMPETER SWAN IN THE YELLOWSTONE

PARK

Although tliis bird was formerly very abundant throughout the
United States, it has been so incessantly hunted and shot at that it
is now very rare anywhere. As a breeding bird within the limits
of our country it had even, within the last few years, been consid-
ered extinct. It is peculiarly fortunate, therefore, that one or more
pairs have found refuge in Yellowstone National Park and are now-
breeding there regularly.

While this is a wild swan possessed of great grace and beauty in
flight, it does not dififer greatly from the tame swan of our eastern
parks. About the only noticeable difl:'erence to be observed is that,
when swimming, the neck of the wild bird is held stiff and straight
whereas the domestic bird usually curves its neck.

The Trumpeter Swan is from 5 to feet long with a wing
extent of from 8 to 10 feet, and is one of our very largest birds.
Yet it does not, as one would naturally suppose, reqviire a broad
stretch of water. True, it is more often seen swimming on Yellow-
stone Lake; but that is because there are many more tourists there
to see the big, pure-white birds. As a rule they prefer the smaller
lakes and ponds, especially when they pick out a nesting site. So
far as my experience goes, they are quite apt to select a different
locality, within a radius of ten miles, each year.

One day as I was riding leisurely towards a pond about a quarter
of a mile wide, near Junction Butte, I discovered a single bird close
to the farthest shore. This proved to be a young bird (one or two
}"ears old) and remarkably tame; for, as I rode my horse into sight
and stopped near the shore, the swan came swimming towards me
until it was within fifty yards of where I sat in plain sight. Then,
after a few minutes of admiration, I rode on around the northern
shore of the pond toward a beautiful setting sun. The swan swam
along on my right and a little to the rear, but only a hundred yards
away; so that I had a fine view of this glorious bird, not only sitting
quietly on the water, but also as it glided gently forward. In some
ways the whole scene w-as one of the finest for sheer majestic
wilderness beauty that I have ever seen. Not only was there no
other person in sight but there were no roads, no fences, no axe-
marked trees, indeed no civilization marks of any kind. I was alone
with the swan and adjacent flocks of ducks and geese, except for
a mother elk and her tiny calf on the far shore. Over all was a

154

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

glorious sky shot with flaming golden colors from the sinking sun ;
while underfoot, the prairie was dotted and splashed with an equally
glorious mosaic of the early spring flowers.

Since that wonderful evening I have seen Trumpeter Swans sev-
eral times, as listed below, and have derived keen pleasure from
observing them. Once I flushed two from Yellowstone Lake while
I was trout fishing. These birds began their flight from the sur-
face by first drawing in their heads, then accompanying the first
twenty wing strokes with vigorous kicks of both feet at the water.
This enabled them to rise high enough so that they could then trust
to their wings alone and draw up their feet and legs into a hori-
zontal position with the legs close to their body and their feet under
their tails. The wings were so large and the strokes so powerful
that the wing strokes were plainly heard until the birds were quite
a distance away. Their flight was strong and direct until they
passed out of sight. Later, the same day, a swan alighted on the
water near me, putting down the rear of the foot first and skating
into the water on the stiffened feet.

When unalarmed, the call is a clear, ringing, far-reaching note
that gives these birds their distinctive title of "trumpeter."

My records of Trumpeter Swans seen in Yellowstone Park are
as follows :

May 29, 1915 4 Aug. 14, 1919 2

May 31, 1915 4 Sept. 6,1919 5

Aug. 16, 191 7 I July 4, 1920 2

June, 1919 I May 29, 1921 i

Early in the summer of 191 9 I noted a swan in the vicinity of
Heart Lake. A little later, on July 4, the nest was found on a low
island in a lagoon northeast of Lewis Lake and contained five
whitish eggs, the nest being made of leaves and grass. On August 14
I returned and then found the tail and flight feathers molted by the
adults, but the birds were too far away and too wary to determine
which of the two species of swan it might be. On September 6,
I again visited this section and found five Trumpeter Swans, the
two parents and three young so nearly grown as to be able to fly
well. During that same summer. Dr. H. M. Smith, L'. S. Fish Com-
missioner, reported that on July 16, 1919, he visited a small unnamed
lake lying south of Delusion Lake and found there a pair of swans
with six cygnets about the size of teal swimming actively about. On
August 23, 1922, while quietly exploring in the Southeast Arm of
Yellowstone Lake, three swans were observed at fairly close range

Birds of the YeUozvstone Park

155

by ]•". J- Sawyer and A. (I. \\'hitney, over the shallows near the
mouth of Trail Creek. These birds were restinf^' and feeding in
company with the large numbers of Canada Ceese and Mallards
usually found there. As the boat drifted ra])i(llv toward the shore
the great snow-white birds rose, one after another, and flew swiftly
jiast toward the east side of the Arm.

NOTES FOR FIELD IDENTIFICATION OF THE BIRDS

To .save space, these field identification notes omit many of the
rarer birds. In using them it will be noted that ordinarily the first
line contains the common and scientific names of the bird; the
second indicates the comparative size of the bird and the season
when found in Yellowstone Park; the third gives the prominent
field marks of the male, and characteristic call notes, and the fourth
states the localities where most likely to be found within the Park.

For a full description of all our western birds, consult Mrs. Flor-
ence M. Bailey's "Handbook of Birds of the Western United
States." To keep abreast of the advances in bird study in that
region one should refer to "The Condor," the leading bird magazine
of the West (W. Lee Chambers, Eagle Rock, California).

WATER BIRDS

Grebes are small duck-like birds with sharp-pointed bills ; likely
to be met with on ponds and lakes, but practically never on shore.

Loons are large black-and-white diving birds, rarely seen in the
Yellowstone except during migrations in May and November.

Gulls are large white birds, usually seen flying but sometimes
resting along shore or on the surface of the water. Abundant about
the Yellowstone Lake and River ; occasionally seen about the other
large lakes and rivers, and around some of the garbage piles at
camps and hotels.

Calikornia Gull. Lams calif oniicits Lawr.
April to November.

White with pearl-blue mantle; a vermilion spot on bill.
Lakes and rivers between 7000 and 8000 feet altitude.

Ring-billed Gull. Lanis delawarciisis Ord
April to November.

White with pearl-blue mantle; black band around bill near the
tip.

Yellowstone Lake.

ic;'') Roosct'cU l.ifc Bulletin

WniTr. Pklican. J'clccaiuis cryllirnrliy)ichns Gmel.

This is a larjije white bird with black wing tips, usually seen on
Yellowstone Lake and River and often mistaken at first sight
for a swan.

The ducks are given in the order in wliich they are seen most
frecjuently during June to Septeniljer, as follows:

Mali.akd, ^l)ias plalyrhynchos Linn.

Occurs at all seasons ; abundant on small ponds and streams,
Male: head, green; breast, chestnut. In summer, both sexes

are a dull mottled brown, the tail feathers showing a w'hite V

as the birds are flushed.
Found throughout the Park.

P)AKROW GoLDEN-KYE. Clangiila islandica (Gmel.)

.Smaller than the Mallard. Occurs at all seasons.

Head, glossed with pui"ple ; rest of plumage, black and white.

In flight, the white patches on the wings and the whistling

noise are distinctive.
On all large lakes and rivers.

Merganser. Merc/us aiucrlcanus Cass.

A trifle larger than the Mallard. Occurs at all seasons.
Head and back, black ; white predominating.
On all large lakes and rivers.

Blue-winged Teal. Onerquednla discors (Linn.)

A very small duck. June through October.
General color, brownish; wings w^ith blue patch showing plainly
in flight.

Common on small ponds, and especially along the upper Yellow-
stone meadows.

Green-winged Teal. Xettioii caroUncnse (Gmel.)

Even smaller than the blue-winged species. Present at all
seasons.

General color, chestnut-brown, but richly varied. The best field

marks are its small size and green wing patch.
Found on all waters, but prefers small ponds and streams.

Pintail. Dafila acuta tzltzUwa (X'ieill.)

Large and slender, even longer than Mallard. June to Novem-
ber.

(ieneral color, gray; lighter underneath. Long neck and long

pointed tail. Wings comparatively narrow.
On the smaller ponds and lakes.

Birds of the Yellozvstone Park 157

The Canada Goose is a large grayish brown bird with black head
and neck and a white clieek band. It is the only one of the three
species of geese that stays in the Park during the summer.

Swans are very rare during the summer months.

The Great Blue Heron is a large slate-blue bird seen standing
beside a watercourse or pond, or flying along the shore with neck
folded back upon itself.

The Sandhill Crane is more brownish than the heron, is not neces-
sarily to be found near water, and flies with neck outstretched.

The Coot is a very dark slate-gray, duck-like bird with a sharp,
white bill, and haunts the small reedy ponds.

The Wilson Phalarope is a snipe-like bird seen swimming on the
surface of lakes and rivers in summer and but seldom on shore.

The snipes, sandpipers and plovers follow in the order of fre-
quency, as with the ducks :

Spotted Sandpiper. Actitis macularia (Linn.)
Larger than a sparrow. May through Augu.st.
Above, browmish gray; below, white with large black spots.

Notes : a clear whistled peet-zveet.
Common at all altitudes along every pond and stream.

KiLLDEER Plover. Oxyechus vociferiis (Linn.)

Size of a robin, but bill and legs longer. March 15 to October.
Above, grayish brown ; rump, rusty brown ; two black bands

across breast. Very noisy ; call, killdeer, killdeer.
Common near water from 6000 to 8000 feet altitude.

Wilson Snipe, GalUnago delicafa (Ord)

Smaller than robin, bill very long. March to June, and August
to December.

Plumage a striped pattern of white, black, brown and buft' ;

easily identified by the long bill and chestnut bar across tail.

Utters a sudden sceep, sceep, when flushed.
Found about springy places at all altitudes. Not common.

Western Willet. Catoptrophorus semipalmatus inor)iaiiis
(Brewst.)

As large as a crow, but more slender. August to October.

Brownish gray, white bar on wing, bill long.

Along ponds and streams at all points. Not common.

Western Solitary Sandpiper. Tringa solitaria c'mnamomea
(Brewst.)

Larger than sparrow. August and early September.
Dark gray with greenish tinge ; back dotted with brown or
whitish.

Near any water, but not common.

158 Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

Greater Yellow-legs. Tetanus melanoleucus (Gmel.)

Larger than robin, with long yellow legs. August and Sej)-
tember.

Gray with white markings. When flushed the white rump and

tail, and tlie ringing tweep, tu-weep identifies this bird.
Seen about Yellow.stone Lake and River and in marshy places.

GROUSE AND DOVES

The RicliardMMi Grou.se is a large bluish black grouse partial to
the fir and sprnce forests, but might also be found in the lodgepole
pine.

The Gray Ruffed Grouse is a smaller, grayish grouse with black
shoulder ruffs. This grouse and the last are the only ones likely
to be met with. The Rufifed Grouse is partial to aspen groves as
well as to the pine and fir.

The Western Mourning Dove is the only representative of the
pigeons here. In flight, a white edging of the spread tail shows
plainly, and when walking the peculiar nodding of the head is
characteristic.

HAWKS AND OWLS

The hawks will be found very difficult to identify, as individuals
of the same species vary greatly in size and color. They are
arranged here in the order of their frequency of occurrence.

Osi'REV. Pandion haliaeius carolinensis (Gmel.)
A large hawk. April 15 to October.
Black above and white below ; head and neck white.
Numerous on all bodies of water. Nests on i)iiniacles of rock
and on tree-tops.

.SwAiNSON Hawk. Biiteo swalnsoni Bonap.

Smaller than the Osprey. April to September 15.
Usually dark brown, a rusty brown band across breast.
Found at all elevations ; prefers open country.

Desert Sparrow Hawk. Ccrchneis sparveria phalcrna (Less.)
Size of a robin. April to October.

Rufous and blue in color, marked with black and white, tail

bright chestnut.
Found all through the lower elevations of open country.

Western Red-tailed Hawk. Buteo horealis calnnis Cass.

vSize of Osprey and larger than Swainson Hawk. April through

September.
Sooty brown ; tail, rich chestnut.
At all elevations ; circles high over the open country.

Birds of the Yellowstone Park 159

Marsh Hawk. Circus hudsonius (Linn.)

Smaller than Swainson. April through September.
Usually brownish black. The white rump is a good field mark.
Hunts the open country by skimming close to the grass and
tops of brush.

Pic.EON Hawk. Faico coliuiibarius colnniharhis Linn.
Slightly larger than robin. April to October.
Only field marks ai'e its size and the tail barred black and white.
Does not hover nor circle overhead. Color varies from bluish
ash to dark brown.

The owls are all brown or gray. There are only two species
likely to be seen; both hunt some in daylight.

The Western Horned Owl is large and prefers dense timber.
^Marked by long erect ear tufts.

The Short-eared Owl is smaller, about the size of a crow, and
is a bird of the open, frequently seen hunting the meadows and
uplands.

THE SMALLER LAND BIRDS
I. Black and Dark-colored Birds

Raven. Corvits corax sinuatus (Wag.)

Larger than crow. Occurs at all seasons.

Uniform black with gloss in places. Flight characterized by

short sailing periods. Note, a hoarse croak.
Found below 9000 feet.

Western Crow. Corvus brachyrhynchos hespcris Ridg.
Smaller than a raven. March to November.
Glossy black. Flight distinguished by continual flaiipiiigs.

Note, caw, caw, caw.
Found below 7500 feet over open country.

Black-headed Jay. Cyanocitta stelleri annectens (Baird)

Larger than robin. Occurs at all seasons.

Head and crest black. Back, dark slate and blue, lighter below.

Found below 8500 feet in more or less open evergreen forests.

Lewis Woodpecker. Asyndesinus Icwisi Riley
Larger than robin. June to Seplemlier.

.\bove, greenish black ; below, gray changing to rose on belly.
Found below 7800 feet in evergreen belts.

Yellow-headed Blackbird. Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus
(Bonap.)

Size of robin. June, July and August.
Black, with head and breast orange-yellow.
Found below 7800 feet in open marshes.

i6o Roosevelt li'Hd lAfe Bulletin

Arctic Thkee-toed Woodpecker. Picoides arcticus (Swains.)
Size of robin. Very scarce but might be seen at any time.
Above, glossy blue-black; below, white, barred with black on

sides. Square yellow patch on crown.
Found between 6000 and 8000 feet in heavy fir and spruce.

Williamson Sapsucker. Sphyrapiciis ihyroideus (Cass.)
.Slightly smaller than robin. May to September.
Above black, rump white, white patch on wing; below, throat

and breast black, belly yellow. Note, a shrill hiiit-hnit, uttered

while flying.
Found below 6500 feet in fir and aspen groves.

Brewer P>lackbird. Euphar/its cyaiwcephahis (Wzg.)
.Slightly smaller than robin. June through October.
P)lack, with pale yellow eyes.

Found below Rooo feet in open countr}^ In latter part of season
it frequents roads and stable yards in dense flocks.

Thick-billed Red-wixged Blackbird. Agelahis phoenicens fortis
Ridgw.

Smaller than robin. April to October 20.
Black, with red spot on shoulder.

Found below 8000 feet about open marshes, and often with the
Brewer Blackbird.

Catbird. Ditmcfella civoliiieiisis (Linn.)

Smaller than robin. June, July and August.

Dark slate-gray. A noted songster. Its call is a cat-like mew.

Rare and only found as yet below 6000 feet.

Kingbird. Tyrannns tyrannus (Linn.)

.Smaller than robin. June through September.
Above, black and dark slate-gray ; below, white, white terminal
tail band.

Found below 7500 feet in open and meadows. Rare.

Water Ouzel, or Dipper. Cinchis mexicanus unicolor Bonap.
Smaller than robin. Common at all seasons.
Dark slate-gray.

Found along every rapid stream.

CuWBiRD. Moloflints (Iter ater (Bodd.)

Smaller than robin. June through September.

Black; head and chest, brown. Notes, a metallic twitter and

Jdiick-see-e-e-c.
Found below 7500 feet about horses and stables. Rare.

Birds of the Yellozvstone Park ' i6i

2. Birds with Black Markings

Clark Nutcracker. Nucifraga columb'iana (Wils.)
Larger than robin. Common at all seasons.
Gray; wings and tail marked with white and black. Its notes

are harsh and strident.
Found in all parts of the Park.

Western Robin. Plaiicsticns m'ujratorhis prophiquus (Ridgw.)
Found in the Park from INIarch to Ncjvember.
Black and slate-gray above; below, chestnut.
At all elevations, mostly on open meadows or nearby.

Western Evening Grosbeak. Hesperiphona vespertina vwntana
Ridgw.

Smaller than robin. Erratic, but might be seen any time.
Dull olive to yellow; crown, wings and tail, black.
Above 6500 feet in the coniferous forests.

Cliff Swallow. Petrochelidon lunifrons lunifrons (Say)
Size of a sparrow. June through August.
Above, black; forehead, white; below, rufous and white.
Found below 8000 feet elevation.

Barn Swallow. Hirundo crythrogastra Bodd.

Size of sparrow, but with long forked tail. July and August.

Above, deep steel-blue; below, rufous.

Found below 8000 feet, but scarce and erratic.

Mountain Chickadee. Penthestes gambeli gainbcli (Ridgw.)
Smaller than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.
Cap and throat, black ; upper parts, gray ; white stripe above

eye. Note, a mournful phee-dee-dee.
At all elevations in the forests.

Tree Swallow. Iridoprocne bicolor (Vieill.)

Smaller than sparrow. April through August.
Above, dark steel-blue or greenish black ; below, white.
Common below 8000 feet elevation.

Rocky Mountain Nuthatch. Sitta carolinensis }icIsoiii Mearns
Smaller than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.
Crown, black; sides of head and below, white; above, gray;

wings and tail marked with black and white.
At all elevations ; partial to fir forests.

Long-tailed Chickadee. Penthestes atricapillns septeiitriniialis
(Harris)

Smaller than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.

Cap and throat, black; above, ashy; below, white. Has the

familiar chick-a-dee call.
At all elevations in the forests ; frequently with the Mountain

Chickadee.

6

l62 Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

3. Birds with White Markings

Red-shafted Flicker. Colaptes cafer collaris Vigors
Larger than robin. February through November.
White rump and red wing and tail linings, conspicuous in flight.
Found between the 5500 and 9000 foot levels.

Clark Nutcracker. Nucifraga columbiana (Wils.)
Larger than robin. Occurs at all seasons.
Gray; wings and tail marked with white and black. Its note-
are harsh and strident.
Found in all parts of the Park.

Rocky Mountain Hairy Woodpecker. Dryohates villosus mojiti-
cola Anth.

A trifle larger than a robin. Occurs at all seasons.
Above, black with white stripes and spots ; nape, scarlet.
Found in the forests, and prefers a mixture of aspens and
coniferous trees.

Williamson Sapsucker, Sphyrapiciis thyroideus (Cass.)
Slightly smaller than robin. May to September.
Above, black, rump white, white patch on wing ; below, throat

and breast black, belly yellow. Note, a shrill huit-huit,

uttered while flying.
Found below 6500 feet in fir and aspen groves.

Red-naped Sapsucker. Sphyrapiciis variiis nuchalis Baird
Smaller than robin. May to October.

Crown, throat and nape, red ; back, black and white ; breast,

black ; belly, yellow.
Occasional in the groves of quaking aspen.

Batchelder Woodpecker. Dryohates pnhescens homoriis Cab. &
Heine

Larger than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.

Above, black with white markings; red on back of head.

Found occasionally in the forests.

Pacieic Nighthawk. Chordeiles virginianus hesperis Grinn.
Larger than sparrow. June to September 15.
Gray-black with white bars on the wings. An erratic night

flyer. Common at Upper Geyser Basin.
Also found over meadows and forests elsewhere.

VVhite-crowned Sparrow. Zonotrichia lencophrys leiicoplirxs
(J. R. Forster)

Same size as English Sparrow. Very abundant. May to October.
Head, striped black and white ; white stripe not extending in

front of eye; body color, gray and brown.
Found in brushy meadows at 6500 to 9000 feet.

Birds of the Yellowstone Park 163

Western Vesper Sparrow. Pooecetes gramineiis confinis Baird.

Smaller than English Sparrow. May to October.

Above, brownish gray, streaked; bend of wing, reddish brown.

Outer tail feathers, white, making a distinguishing mark in

flight.

In sagebrush and large open spaces below 7000 feet.

Pink-sided Junco. J unco hyciiialis mcanisi Ridgw.

Smaller than sparrow. March to November.

Head, neck, and chest, slate; back, brown; belly, white. White

outer tail feathers a conspicuous field mark.
Common all through the coniferous forests.

4. Birds with Yellow or Orange Markings

Western Meadowlark. Sturnella neglecta Aud.
Larger than robin. March to November.

Above, grayish brown with darker streaks ; outer tail feathers.

white ; below, yellow with black crescent on breast.
Abvmdant in larger meadows and open country below 8000 feet.

Yellow-headed Blackbird. Xaiithocephalics xanthoccpIiaJus
(Bonap.)

Size of robin. June, }n\y and August.
Black, with head and breast orange-yellow.
Found below 7800 feet in open marshes.

Desert Horned Lark. Otoe oris alpestris leucolcrnia (Coues)
Smaller than robin. April to October.

Above, brown; head with black tufts of elongated feathers

("horns") ; throat, yellow.
At all elevations on grassy open lands.

Western Evening Grosbeak. Hesperiphona vespertina tnoutaua
Ridgw.

Smaller than robin. Erratic, but might be seen any time.
Dull olive to yellow; crown, wings and tail, black.
Above 6500 feet in the coniferous forests.

Bohemian Waxwing. Bornbycilla garrula (Linn.)

Larger than sparrow. Erratic ; may occur at any season.

General color, fawn ; belly and tip of tail, yellow.

An irregular wanderer, seen in flocks in cedars. Uncommon.

Western Tanager. Piranga hidoviciana (Wils.)

Larger than sparrow. June, July and August.
Head and neck, scarlet; back, black; rumi) and under parts,
yellow.

Below 8000 feet, in the forested sections.

164 Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

Western Flycatcher. Empidonax difficilis difficilis Baird
Size of sparrow. May to September.

Above, olive-green; below, dull yellow; belly, eye-ring, wing

marks, and under tail, brighter yellow.
Found between 6500 and 8000 feet.

Audubon Warbler. Dendroica auduhoni aiiduboni {]. K. Towns.)

Slightly smaller than sparrow. [May to October.

Crown, throat, sides and rump, yellow; rest of plumage, bluish

gray marked with black.
Abundant at all elevations, especially about edges of the forest.

Pale Goldeinch. .IstragaVmus tristis pallidus (Alearns)

.Smaller than sparrow. June and July.
Crown, wings and tail, black; body, yellow.
Occurs below 6500 feet.

Orange-crowned \^'ARBLER. J'cnnivora celafa celata (Say)

Smaller than sparrow. June, July and August.

Above, olive changing to yellow on rump ; crown, orange-brown.

A rare bird, sometimes seen along the Gardiner River.

Yellow Warbler. Dendroica cestiva (estiva (Gmel.)

.Smaller than sparrow. June to September 20.

Above, yellowish green ; below, yellow streaked with brown.

Found below 7500 feet.

Macgilli\ray \\'arbler. Oporornis tolviiei (J. K. Towns.)

.Smaller than sparrow. June, July and August.

Head and throat, ashy ; back, olive-green ; below, yellow.

A rare bird, sometimes seen below 6500 feet.

Western Yellow-throat. Geothlypis trichas occidentalis Brewst.

Smaller than sparrow. June, July and August.
Front and sides of head, black; above, olive-green; below,
yellow.

Found below 6500 feet ; common along the Gardiner River.

PiLi'.oLATED Warbler. IVilsonia pusilla pileolata (Pallas)

.Smaller than sparrow. June, July and August.
Crown, black; rest of plumage, yellow.

I'^ound below 7500 feet, and partial to willow-covered meadows.

Pine Siskin. Spiiiiis piuiis (A\'ils.)

Smaller than sparrow. April to October.

Fntire body streaked ; wings and tail with yellow patches show-
ing in flight especially.

Common in all forested sections ; peculiarly fond of dandelion
seed.

Birds of the Ycllowstoue Park 165

5. Birds with Red Markings

Rkd-smakted Fi.u ki:k. Colaptcs cafcr coUaris Vigors

Larger than robin. February througb November.

White rump and red wing and tail linings, conspicucnis in Hight.

I'ound between 5500 and 9000 feet.

KocKV AfocNTAiN H.\rRY WooDi'F.CKEK. DryoJuilcs vUlosus 111011-
ticola Anth.

A tritle larger than a rol)in. Occurs at all seasons.
Abo\e, black with white stripes and spots; nape, scarlet.
Found in the forests; prefers a mixture of aspens and conifer-
ous trees.

Rri)-NAPi:i) Sai'SLtckkr. Sphyrapicns varUis iiiichalis Raird
Smaller than robin. May to October.

Crown, throat and nape, red; back, black and white; breast,

black ; belly, yellow.
Occasional in the groves of quaking aspen.

riiu'K-Bri.i.i'.n Red-winckd Blackbird. . 1 i/claiiis .plui'iiiccii.s fortis
kidgw.

.Smaller than robin. April to October 20.
Black, with red .spot on .shoulder.

Found below 8000 feet about open marshes, and often with the
Brewer Blackbird.

Rocky Mountain Pine Grosbeak. Pinicola cnuclealor inoiitaiia
Ridgw.

Smaller than robin. March to December.

Carmine red, changing to gray on shoulders, belly and flanks.

Found in the coniferous forests.

Ratciieeder AA^oodi'ECKER. Dryobalcs piibcscciis Jioiiionis Cab. &
Heine

Larger than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.

Above, black with white markings; red on back of head.

Found occasionally in the forests.

Cros.sbiei,. Loxia citri'irostra miJior HSrehm)

T,ai"gcr than s])arr(iw. Very erratic, may be seen anv lime.
Red; wings and tail, blackish.

Can be told from gro.sbeak by smaller size and crossed bill.

.Slate- CO LOR ED Fox Sparrow. Passcrclla iliaca schistacea Baird
Larger than Fnglish Sparrow. A])ril to .September.
Above, slaty with olive tinge; reddish on rump, wings and tail.
Very shy, found in brush at lowest elevations.

1 66 Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

Green-tailed Towiiee. Oberholseria chlorura CAud.)

A trifle larger than sparrow. May throuj^h September.
Crown, chestnut; throat, white; above, grayish green.
In brushy places below the 6500-foot level.

AX-^KSTERN Tanager. Piranga ludoviciana (Wils.)

Larger than sparrow. June, July and August.
Head and neck, scarlet ; back, black ; rump and under parts,
yellow.

Below 8000 feet, in the forested sections.

Cassin Purple Finch. Carpodacus cass'nti I'.aird
Size of sparrow. April to September 20.

Bright crimson patch on top of head ; upper parts, brown

streaked with lighter.
Quite common about stables and other buildings.

Rki)-bri:a.sted NLT)rATCii. Sitta canadensis Linn.

Smaller than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.
Crown, black; above, bluish gray; below, red-brown.
Usually seen on the trunks of coniferous trees.

Ruby-crowned Kinglet. Regulus calendula calendula (Linn.)

Smaller than sparrow. April to .September.
Crown patch, scarlet ; above, greenish olive.
Found in the coniferous forests, usually where open.

Rufous Hummingbird. Selasphorns riifus fGmel.)
Much smaller than sparrow. July and August.
General color, reddish brown, with a flaming red throat.
Very rare, seen once in Upper Geyser Basin.

Calliope Hummingbird. Stellida calliope (Gould)

Much smaller than sparrow. July and August.
General color green, with a rose purplish throat.
Rare ; has been seen about ^lammoth.

6. Birds Partly or Largely Blue

I'l.ACK HEADED Ja^ . Cxoiiocitta stcllcri unucctcns (Baird)

Larger than robin. Occurs at all seasf)ns.

Head and crest, black ; back, dark slate and blue ; below, lighter.

Found below 8500 feet in coniferous forests.

Belted Kingfisher. Ceryle alcyon alcyon (Linn.)
Larger than robin. Occurs at all seasons.

.\ large crest. L'pper parts, grayish blue marked wilii white

and black. A characteristic rattling call.
Found along practically every stream.

Birds of the YcUotvstone Park

167

Mountain I^i.ti-biri). Sialia nirnicoidcs (liech.)

Larger than sparrow. Marcli tlirough October.
Above, azure-bhie ; below, pale greenish blue.
\'ery abundant; found at all elevations.

L.AZULi Bunting. Passerina anuvna (Say)
.Smaller than sparrow. June and July.

Head and upper surface, bright blue; breast, chestnut-brown
In brushy open spaces below 6000 feet.

7. Birds with Green Markings

Northern Violet-green Swallow. Tachycineta tliulassliia lepida
M earns

Larger than sparrow. June, July and August.
Crown, green ; back, purplish green ; rump, violet.
Common locally throughout the Park.

Crken-tailed Towhee. Oberholserki chlontra (Aud.)

A trifle larger than sparrow. May through September.
Crown, chestnut ; throat, white ; above, grayish green.
In brushy places below the 6500-foot level.

Western Warbling Vireo. Vireosylva gilva su'ainso)ii (I'aird)

.Smaller than sparrow. June to September 15.

Above, gray olive-green ; below, white tinged with yellow.

Scarce, but might be seen almost anywhere below 8000 feet.

Orange-crowned Warbler. Vermivora celata celata (Say)

Smaller than sparrow. June, July and August.

Above, olive changing to yellow on rump ; crown, orange-brown.

A rare bird, sometimes seen along the Gardiner River.

Western Yellow-throat. Geothlypis trichas occideittalls Brewst.

Smaller than sparrow. June, July and August.
Front and sides of head, black ; above, olive-green ; below,
yellow.

Found below 6500 feet ; common along the Gardiner River.

RuBY-CROWNED KiNGLET. Reguliis Calendula calendula (Linn.)

.Smaller than sparrow. April to .September.

Crown patch, scarlet; above, greenish olive.

Found in the coniferous forests, usually where oi)eiL

Calliope Hummingbird. Stellula calliope (Gould)

Much smaller than sparrow. July and August.
General color, green with a rose purplish throat.
Rare, but has been seen ab(jut IMammoth.

l68 Rnnsevell Jl'ild Life Bulletin

8. Brown, Gray, and Obscurely Colored Birds

Rocky Mo in tain Jay or Camp I\oi;i!I-.u. Pcrisorens canadensis
capiialis R\d^w.
Larger than robin. Occurs at all seasons.

Crown, white; nape, dark gray; rest of phimage, lighter gray.
Common above the 6500- foot level.

( i;-.sii)i:d I-^i.ycatcjii-.k. Xnilallornis horealls f.Swains.)
Smaller than robin. June, July and August.
Above, dark olive-brown; belf)w, white; sides, rdive-brown.
Not common anywhere.

BoiiiCMiAN Waxwing. BoiubycUla garrula (Linn.)

Larger than sparrow. Erratic, may occur at any season.

General color, fawn; belly and tip of tail, yellow.

An irregular wanderer; .seen in flocks in cedars. I'ncommon.

TowN.SEND Solitaire. Myadesies lo-ojiisendi (And.)
Larger than sparrow. Occurs at all .seasons.
Above, brownish gray; below, paler; wing with two white bars

and a bufif band showing in flight.
Below 8000 feet ; never more than a pair at a time.

Audubon Hermit Thrush. Hylocichla guttata auduboni (Baird)
Larger than sparrow. May to September 20.
Above, grayish brown; tail, rufous; below, white; breast with
dark spots.

Frequents dark places in the forest. L'ncommon.

.'^[.ATE-coI,ORED Fox Spakkow. Passcrcllo iliaca scliistacea Baird
Larger than English Sparrow. April to September.
Above, slaty with olive tinge; reddish on rump, wings and tail.
Very shy ; found in brush at lowest elevations.

Pii'iT. Antlius rubesceiis (Tuns.)

Larger than sparrow. May to November.

Above, grayi.sh brown; outer tail feathers largely white; below,
pale bufif. When flushed, it springs up uttering a series of

cheeps.

Above timber line in summer; later, in the lower valleys.
Rot KY ]\Iountain Nuthatch. .S'/7/(/ caroliiicnsis iwlsoni Mearns
Same size as S])arrow. Occurs at all .seasons.
Crown, black; sides of head and below, white; above, gray;

wings and tail marked with black and white.
At all elevations, but mostly in the fir forests.

Wright Flycatcher. Empidonax ivrighti Baird
Size of sparrow. June to September 20.
Above, grayish olive ; two white wing bars ; below, white.
Common about the lower levels, but a few go up to 7500 feet.

nir^rls of the Yrllmi'sfoiic Park 169

Western Savannah Si'akkow. Passcrculns sandivichensis alau-

dimis Bonap.
Size of English Sparrow. May to September.
Crown stripe and line above eye, white ; above, gray-brown ;

below, white ; streaked everywhere.
\'ery sh\- but common in the grassy meadows, 7000 to 8000 feet,

\\'Hrri:-ckOWNED Stakuow. Zonoirlclila Iciicoplirvs leucophrxs
(J. R. Forster)

Size of English Sparrow. Very abundant, May to October 20.
Head, striped black and white; white stripe not extending in

front of e}'e ; body color, gray and brown.
I-'ound in brushy meadows from 6500 to 9000 feet.

Rock Wren. Salphictcs obsoletus obsoletus (Say)
.Size of sparrow. May to October.

W hite line above eye; above, gray-brown dotted with black and

white; rump, cinnamon-brown.
Common throughout the open northern section.

Mountain Song Sparrow. Melosp'iza melodla iiioiilaua Hensh.

Size of English Sparrow. March to October.

Crown, dull bay ; above, gray streaked with black and brown ;

below, white streaked with brown ; a patch on breast. A fine

songster.

Common in brush, e.specially willows, below 6500 feet.

Rank Swallow. Riparia riparia (Linn.)
Size of sparrow. May to September.

Above, mouse-brown ; below, white with brown breast band.
Common locally where suitable sandbanks occur.

Western Vesper Sparrow. Poacctes graiuineus confinis Baird

Smaller than English Sparrow. May to October.

Above, brownish gray, streaked; bend of wing, reddish brown.

Outer tail feathers white, making a distinguishing mark in

flight.

In sagebrush and large open spaces, below 7000 feet.

Pink-sided Junco. Juiico liyemalis iiiear)isi Ridgw.

.Smaller than sparrow. March to November.

Head, neck ancl chest, slate ; back, brown ; belly, white. White

outer tail feathers a conspicuous field mark.
Common tlirongJioitl the coniferous forests.

Lincoln Sparrow. Melosplza liiicolni lincolni (And.)

Smaller than English Sparrow. June, July and August.
Above, grayish brown streaked with black ; below, white ; breast.

sides and neck, streaked sharply and thickly.
Very shy; frequents the willow meadows above 7000 feet.

170 RnnscvcU Wild Life Biillctht

W'l.sTKKN HousK Wkkn. Trof/lod ytcs aedoii purkutani And.

Smaller than sparrow. June, July rmd Au^iiist.
Dull brown, barred with dusky. .\ ])crsistent singer of tinkiin'^
little songs.

Not common ; but occasif)nal about Mammoth.

Rki)-bri:.\stf.i) NuxiiATCir. Silta canadensis Linn.
Smaller than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.
Crown, black ; above, bluish gray ; below, red-brown.
Usually seen on the trunks of coniferous trees.

VVkstkrn Cmi'PiNr. .Spakkow. SpizcUa passcrina ariconcr Coues
Smaller than English Sparrow. May to September.
Crown, chestnut ; abo\ e, brown streaked with black ; below.

white or grayish. Note: cJiippy, many times repeated.
Common below 8rx>o feet.

Rocky Mountain Ckkki'I.k. Ccrthia fainiliarls montana Ridgw.
Smaller than sparrow. Occurs at all seasons.
Above, streaked black, white and rusty; below, white.
Seen climbing or "creeping" up coniferous tree trunks.

Pine Siskin. Spiuus piims (W'ils.)

Smaller than sparrow. April to October.

I'Intire body streaked ; wings and tail with yellow patches show-
ing con.spicuously in flight.

Common in all forested sections. Especially fond of dandelion
seed.

LIST OF BIRDS OF THE YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL

PARK

2.

4-
.S-
6.

/•
8.

9-

lO.

II.

12.

13-
14-
15-
1 6.

Western Grebe JEchnwphorns occidentalis (Lawr.)

Horned Grebe Colymbus aiiritus Linn.

Eared Grebe Colymbus nigricollis calif ornicus

(Heer.)

F'ied-billed Grebe ... Podilymbus podiceps (Linn.)

Loon Gai'ia immer (Briinn.)

California Gull Lams calif ornicus Lawr.

Ring-billed Gull .... Lams dclaivarcnsis Ord

Bonaparte Gull Lams Philadelphia (Ord)

Caspian Tern Sterna caspia impcrator ( Coues)

Black Tern Chlidonias nigra surinaniensis (Gmel i

White Pelican Pelecanus erythrorhynchos Gmel.

Merganser Mergns americanus Cass.

Hooded Merganser. . Lophodytes cucullatus (Linn.)

Mallard Inas platyrhynchos Linn.

Gadwall Chaulelasniiis st re per us (Linn.)

Baldpate Mareca americana (Gmel.)

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

171

17. Green-winged Teal... Nettion carolinense (Gmel.)

18. Blue-winged Teal . . . Ouerquedula discors (Linn.)

19. Cinnamon Teal Ouerquedula cyanoptera (Vieill.)

20. Shoveller Spatula clypeata (Linn.)

21. Pintail Dafila acuta tzUzihoa (Vieill.)

22. Wood Duck Aix sponsa (Linn.)

23. Redhead Mania amerkana (Eyton)

24. Canvas-back Marila valisineria (Wils.)

25. Scaup Duck Marila marila (Linn.)

26. Lesser Scaup Duck. . Marila affinis (Eyton)

27. Golden-eye Glaucioiietta clangiila aincricana

(]5onap.)

28. Barrow Golden-eye. . Glaucionetta Islaiidica (Gmel.)

29. Buffle-head CJiaritoiietta albeola (Linn.)

30. Pacific Harlequin

Duck Histrioiiicits hlstrionicus pacificits

Brooks.

31. Scoter Oideinia anwricaita Swains.

32. White-winged Scoter. Oideniia deglaudi Bonap.

33. Ruddy Duck Erismatura jatnaicensis (Gmel.)

34. Snow Goose Chen hyperborcus hyperboreus (PaW-d^)

35. Canada Goose Branta canadensis canadensis (Linn.)

36. Hutchins Goose Branta canadensis hutchinsi (Rich.)

37. Whistling Swan .... Cygnus cohunblanus (Ord)

38. Trumpeter Swan .... Cvginis buccijialn>- Rich.

39. White-faced Glossy

Ibis Plcfjadis guurauna (Linn.)

40. Great Blue Heron... .Irdca hcrodias Ircijanzal Cowl.

41. Whooping Crane .... C>-us aniericana (Linn.)

42. Little Brown Crane.. Grus canadensis (Linn.)

43. Sandhill Crane Grus nicxicana (Mijll.)

44. Sora Por::a)ia Carolina (Linn.)

45. Coot Pulica aniericana Gmel.

46. Northern Phalarope.. Lobipes lobatus (Linn.)

47. Wilson Phalarope ... Steganopus tricolor VxeWl.

48. Avocet Recurz'irosl ra aniericana Gmel.

49. Wilson Snipe GalVuiago delicata (Ord)

50. Pectoral Sandpiper. . Pisobia maculata (Vieill.)

51. Baird Sandpiper .... Pisobia bairdi (Coues)

52. Least Sandpiper .... Pisobia niinutilla (Vieill.)

53. Greater Yellow-legs.. Totaniis melanoleucus (Gmel.)

54. Yellow-legs Totanus flaz'ipes (Gmel.)

55. Western Solitary

Sandpiper Tringa solitaria cinnainonica (Brewst.)

56. Western Willet Catoplropliorus seniipahiialiis inornatus

(Brewst.)

57. Spotted Sandpiper . . Actitis macularia (Linn.)

58. Long-billed Curlew.. N^nnienius americaniis Bech.

59. Killdeer Oxyechus vociferus (Linn.)

172 Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

60. Ruddy Turnstone ... .Irciiaria interpres mnrinella fIJnn.)

61. Richardson Grouse . . Detidragapiis ohscuriis richardsoni

(Doug.)

62. Franklin Grouse .... Canachites franklini TDoug.)

63. Gray Ruffed Grouse. Bonasa umhelhis umhelloides fDoug.)

64. Columbian Shar])-

tailed Grouse Fcdioeccies phaslanellus coluinbiavus

(Ord)

65. Sage Grouse Centrocerciis urnphasianus (Bonap.)

66. Western Mourning

Dove Zejuiid lira maci'ouro luarginella (Wood-
house)

67. Marsh Hawk Circus hudsonins (Linn.)

68. Sharp-shinned Hawk. Accipiter velox fWils.)

69. Cooper Hawk Accipiter cooperi rBonaj).)

70. Goshawk Astiir africapilliis ("Wils.) subsp?

71. Western Red-tailed

Hawk Biiteo horcalis calitriis Cass.

72. Swainson Hawk .... Bttteo szuainsoiii Bonap.

73. Rough-legged Hawk. Archihuteo laqopus sancti-johannis

(Gmel.)

74. Ferruginous Rough-

leg Archihuteo ferrugincus CLich.)

75. Golden Eagle Aquila chrysaeios (Linn.)

76. Bald Eagle Haliccetus Icucocephalus leucoccphalus

(Linn.)

77. Prairie Falcon Falco mexicantis Schlegel

78. Duck Hawk Falco peregrinus anatum Bonap.

79. Pigeon Hawk Falco columharius columharius Linn.

80. Desert Sparrow Hawk Ccrchueis sparveria phalcena (Less.)

81. Osprey Pandion haliactus carolineiisis (Gmel.)

82. Long-eared Owl .... Asio wilsonianus (Less.)

83. Short-eared Owl .... Asio flamiueus (Pont.)

84. Rocky Mountain

Screech Owl Ofiis asio maxwellice (Ridgw.)

85. Western Horned Owl Bubo virginianus pallescois Stone

86. Hawk Owl Surnia ulula caparoch (Miill.)

87. Rocky Mountain

Pygmy Owl Glaucidinin gnoma pinicola Nelson

88. Belted Kingfisher . . . Ccrylc alcyon alcynii (Linn.)

89. Rocky Mountain

Hairv ^^^oodpecker. Drynhafes zilldsus nioiillrnla Anth.

90. Batchelder Wood-

pecker Dryobafes piihcscois Jwtuorus Cah. &:

Heine

91. Arctic Three-toed

Woodpecker Picoidcs arclicus (Swains.)

92. Alpine Three-toed

Woodpecker Picoides americanus dorsalis Baird

Birds of the Yellowstone Park

173

93. Red-naped Sapsucker Sphyrapicus variiis nuchalis Baird

94. Williamson Sapsucker Sphyrapicus thyroideiis (Cass.)

95. Red-headed Wood-

pecker Melancrpes erythrocephalus (Linn.)

96. Lewis Woodpecker . . Asyndcsiiius leTvisi Riley

97. Red-shafted Flicker.. Colaptes cafer collaris Vigovs

98. Pacific Nighthawk . . Chordeiles virginianus lies peris Grinn.

99. White-throated Swift. Aeronautes rnelanoleucos (Baird)

100. Broad-tailed Hum-

mingbird SelaspJiorus platycercus (Swains.)

101. Rufous Humming-

bird Selasphonts r 11 fits (Gmel.)

102. Calliope Humming-

bird Sicllnla calliope (Gould)

103. Kingbird Tyrannns tyrannus (Linn.)

104. Say Phoebe Sayoniis sayiis (Bonap.)

105. Olive-sided Flycatcher X uttallornis horcalis (Swains.)

106. W estern Wood Pewee Myiocliaiics richardsoni richardsoni

(Swains.)

107. Western Flycatcher. . Empidonax difficilis difficilis Baird

108. Traill Flycatcher .... Empidonax trailli trailli (Aud.)

109. Hammond Flycatcher Empidonax hammondi (Xantus)

110. Wright Flycatcher . . Empidonax wrighti Baird

111. Pallid Llorned Lark.. Otocoris alpestris arcticola (Linn.)

112. Hoyt Horned Lark. . Otocoris alpestris hoyti Bishop

113. Desert Horned Lark. Otocoris alpestris leiicolcema (Coues)

114. Black-billed Magpie.. Pica pica hiidsonia (Sabine)

115. Black-headed Jay . .. Cyanocitta stelleri annectens (Baird)

116. Rocky ^Mountain Jay. Perisoreus canadensis capifalis Ridgw.

117. Raven Corviis corax sinuatus Wag.

118. Western Crow Corvus bracliyrliy)tcIios liesperis Ridgw.

119. Clark Nutcracker .. Nucifraga coliimbiana (Wils.)

120. Pinon Jay Cyanocephalus cyauocephalus (W^ied)

121. Bobolink DoUchonyx orydvorxis (Linn.)

122. Cowbird Molothrus ater atcr (Bodd.)

123. Yellow-headed Black-

bird XantJiocephalus x a n t h 0 c e p Ji a I n s

(Bonap.)

124. Thick-billed Red-wing Agelaius phceniceus fortis Ridgw.

125. Western Meadowlark Sturnella neglecta Aud.

126. Brewer Blackbird ... Enphogns cyanocephalus (W'ag.)

1 27. Western Evening

Grosbeak HcspcripJiona vcspertina montana

Ridgw.

128. Rocky Mountain Pine

Grosbeak Pinicola enucleator montana Ridgw.

129. Cassin Purple Finch. Carpodacnscassini'R-dnd

130. Crossbill Loxia curvirostra minor (Brehm)

174

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

131. White- winged Cross-

bill J.ox'hi Iciicoptcra Gmel.

132. (iray-crowned Rosy

Finch Lciicoslicle tephrocotis tephrocotis

Swains.

133. Hepburn Rosy Finch. Lciicosticte tephrocotis littoralis Baird

134. Black Rosy Finch... Leucosticte atrata Ridgw.

135. Redpoll Acanthis linaria linaria (Linn.)

136. Pale Cioldfinch Astragalinns tristis pallidus (Mearns)

137. Pine Siskin Spiniis pinns (Wils.)

138. Fnglish .Sparrow .... Passer doniesticiis (Linn.)

139. Snow lUinting Plectropliciiax nivalis nivalis fLinn.)

140. Alaska Longspur .... Calcariiis lapponictis alascensis Ridgw.

141. We.stern Vesper Spar-

row Potrcetes gramineus con finis Baird

142. Western Savannah

Sparrow Passerculus sandwichensis alaudinus

Bonap.

143. Western Lark Spar-

row Chondestes fjraniniaciis strigatus

.Swains.

144. White-crowned .Spar-

row Zonofrichia leucophrys leucophr\s

(J. R. Forster)

145. Gambel Sparrow .... Zonofrichia leucophrys gambeli (XutX.)

146. White-throated Spar-

row Zonotrichia alhicollis (Gmel.)

147. W estern Tree Spar-

row Spicella nw)iticola ochracea Brewst

14S. W estern Chipping

-Sparrow Spizella passerina arizoncc Coues

149. lirewer Sparrow Spicella breweri Cass.

150. Intermediate Junco. . Junco hyemalis connectens Coues

151. Montana Junco Junco hyemalis montanus Ridgw.

152. Pink-sided Junco ... Juiico hyemalis niearnsi K'ldgw.

153. Mountain Song Spar-

row Mclospiza mclodia montana Hen.sh.

154. Lincoln Sparrow .... Melospiza lincolni lincolni (Aud.)

155. Slate-colored Fox

.Sparrow Passerella iliaca schistacea Baird

156. Spurred Towhee .... Pipilo maculatus montanus Swarth

157. Green-tailed Towhee. Oherlwlscria chlorura (Aud.)

158. Black-headed Gros-

beak Zamclodia mclanocephala (Swains.)

159. Lazuli Bunting Passerina anio'na (Say)

160. Lark Bunting Calamospica mclanocorys Stej.

161. Western Tanager . . . Piranga ludoviciana (Wils.)

162. Clif¥ Swallow Petrochelidoii lunifrons lunifrons (Say)

163. Barn Swallow Hirundo erythrogastra Bodd.

nirds of the Yclloivsloiic fork 1 75

|C).|. 'I'rcc Swallow Iridoprociic bicolor (\'icill.)

165. Northern Violet-green

Swallow Tachyciiicta tluilassiiia Icphia Mearns

166. Bank Swallow Riparia riparia (Linn.)

167. Rough-winged Swal-

low Siehjidopteryx scrripennis (And.)

iWv l-oheniian Wax wing. Bombycilla garrida (Linn.)

169. Northern Shrike .... Lanius bore alls Vx^xW.

170. White-nnnped Shrike Lanius Indovicianus cxcubiiorhics

Swains.

171. W'estern Warbling

\'ireo J ircosylfd gilz'u sn'aiiisoni ( I'aird)

172. Calaveras Warbler .. I'cnnivora ritficapilla (/iilliiraHs

(Ridgw.)

1 73. ( )range-cn)wned W ar-

l)ler J 'eniih'ora cclata cclata (Say)

174. Yellow Warbler .... Dcndrolca crstk'a ccstiva ((Iniel.)

175. Myrtle Warbler .... Dendroica coroiiafa hoozrri McCircgo''

176. Audubon Warbler . . Dciidroica auduhoni auduboni (J. K.

Towns.)

177. Townscnd Warbler. . Dendroica tozvnseiidi {]. K. Towns.)

178. Macgillivray Warbler Oporoniis tolmiei (J. K. Towns.)

1 79. Western Y e 1 1 o w -

throat Geothlypls Irichas occideiiialis Brewst.

i<So. Pileolated Warbler... Il'ilsoiiia pitsilla pileolata (Pallas)

181. Pipit liithiis rubcsceiis (Tuns.)

182. Dipper ; Water Ouzel. Cincliis ine.vicaiiiis uiiicolor Bonap.

183. Sage Thrasher Oreoscoptes iiioiitaiius (J. K. Towns.)

184. Catbird Diiuietella caroliiiensis (Linn.)

185. Rock Wren Salpi)icies obsolctiis obsoleius (Say)

186. W'istern House Wren Troijlodytcx aedo)i parkiiiaiii Aud.

187. Western Marsh Wren Tchnatodytcs paliisfris plcsiiis (Ober.)

188. Rocky Mountain

Creeper Certhia fainiliaris iiiofiiaiia Ridgw.

189. Rocky Mountain Nut-

hatch Sitia carolinensis nclsoni Mearns

190. Red-breasted Nut-

hatch Sitta canadensis Linn.

19T. Pygmy Nuthatch .... Slito pyf/nuca pytiincca Vigors

if)2. Long-tailed Chickadee Penlhestes alricap'dhis septcnIrinnaJis

(Harris)

193. Mountain Chickadee. Pe)iihcslcs </aiubc!i f/aiubeli (Ridgw.)

194. Western Golden-

crowned Kinglet... Rcgulus satrapa olivaceus Baird

195. Ruby-crowned King-

let Rcgidiis ca'ejidn'a caletidiila (Linn.)

196. Townsend .Solitaire. . Myadestes toztjyisendi (Aud.)

197. Willow Thrush i. . ; ; Hylockhla fuscescens salicicola Ridgw

176

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

198. Olive-backed I'linish. Hylocichla iisiulala swahisojii

(Tschudi)

199. Audubon Hermit

Thrush Hylocichla (jiittala audnhoni CRaird)

200. Western Robin Planesticns migratorius propinquus

(Ridgvv.)

201. \Vestern Rkiebird . . . Sialia mcxicana occidenialis J. K.

Towns.

202. Rlountain ]5hiel)ird . . Sialia currucoidcs fRech.)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

In the prej)aration of this paper, I have used mainly my own
notes and data gathered during a series of years spent in the Yel-
lowstone country ; but in many ways I am indebted to others for
valued help. To Mrs. Florence Merriam Railey and Prof. Alvin G.
Whitney I am especially grateful for critical help and advice on the
preparation of the manuscript. To Dr. Frederic A. Lucas, and the
American Museum of Natural History, my grateful thanks are
given for the use of the Museum's extensive collection of bird skins,
nests and eggs. From Dr. T. S. Palmer, and the late Prof. Wells
W. Cooke of the Riological Survey of the \] . S. Department of
Agriculture, I have received nuich encouragement and advice. I am
also indebted to ]\Ir. Aretas A. Saunders of Fairfield, Conn., and to
Col. Wirt Robinson of West Point, for many notes on birds seen
in this and in neighboring territory ; also to Mr. Edmund J. Saw-
yer, the present Park Naturalist, for records of the ne.sting of the
Caspian Tern and Macgillivray Warbler. In addition, I have drawn
rather freely on the writings of ]Mr. Leander S. Keyser, Mrs. Flor-
ence M. Railey, Dr. Elliott Coues, Dr. Frank M. Chapman, and
Neltje Rlanchan ; and I ha^'e received much confirmatory data from
articles in The Condor, and from bird lists included in the reports
of the various Superintendents of Yellowstone National Park. The
plates accompanying this paper are reproduced from drawings
executed by Mr. Edmund J. Saw}er, who gathered his materials
directl}^ in the field (during the seasons of 1922 and 1923)
in order to show the characteristic birds of different habitats
as accurately as possible in their natural Park surroundings. I\Ir.
R. R. Rockwell, ]\Ir. Edward R. Warren and Mr. George Shiras, 3rd,
have been especially generous in furnishing photographs for illus-
trations, and the Editors of The Condor and Xafiiral History have
kindly loaned plates for a similar purpose. To all of these, as well
as to various writers and photographers credited in the list of
illustrations, I wish to express my thanks and appreciation.

Birds of the YcUmvstouc Park

^77

LIST OF REFERENCES

The following l)il)liogiai)li\- h;is liccii inadc as complcic as possible liy tlic
inclusion of all titles known to nienlion Yellowstone Park l)irds.

I'aii.i.y, Fi.okenci:

Kjif). Handbook of T'irds of the Western Unileil States.
1']). 1-590. Fifth edition. Ijoston.

An invaluable manual, althout^li it makes no si)ecial
fcfet'ence to Yellowstone birds.

Baill:v, \'krnon, and P)Aii.ky, Florknck M.

1918. "The Birds." In Wild Animals of (ilacier National
T'ark, pp. 103-210. National Park Ser\ice, U. S.
Dept. Interior.

A xaluable reference book, as most (Hacicr I'ark
species occur also in the Yellowstone.

Rkari). Da.x

i(>oi. In a \\ ild Animal Rei»ublic. Recreation, \'ol. 15, Dec,
1 90 1, p. 423.
Mentions a few birds in Yellowstone Park.

Bknt, Aktih:r Cleveland

192 1. Life Histories of North American Gulls and Terns.

\' . S. National Museum Bull. 113, pp. 1-345.

In the chapter on the California Gull mention is
made of this species breeding in Yellowstone Park,
page 131.

1922. Life Histories of North American Petrels and Pelicans

and Their Allies. U. S. National Museum lUill. 121,
pp. 1-343-

In the excellent chajMer on the American White
I'elican luention is made of the Yellowstone Lake
breeding colony, page 292.

Burroughs, John

1907. Camping and Trami)ing with Roosevelt. Pp. i-lii.
I'oston.

On jiages 2S-72 there are notes on the birds ob-
served. See also Theodore Roosevelt's "Wilderness
Reserves."

Cary, Mkrkitt f

1917. Life Zone Investigations in Wyoming. U. S. Dept.

Agriculture, Bur. Biological Survey, North American
Fauna No. 42, pp. 1-95.

178 Rnosevelt Wild f.lfc Bulletin

Chapman, Frank M.

1908. Camps and Cruises of an Oniitlifjlogist. Pp. 1-432.
New York.

Includes a most appreciative account of the life his-
tory of the White I'elican, and mentions the Yellow-
stone colony on page 371.

COMSTOCK, TjiEO. B.

1874. The Yellowstone National Park. The American Natur-
alist, Vol. 8, No. 2, Feb., 1874, pp. 75-76.
Gives a list only, of 29 species.

CoiTKS, Fm.iott

1874. Birds of the Northwest. U. .S. (ieological .Survey of the
Territories, Miscel. Publications No. 3, pp. 1-791.

Contains references to Merriam's work in the Yel-
lowstone.

Gic.Noi'x, Claude

1920. Note on the Nesting Habits of the O.sprey in Yellow-
stone Park. The Condor, Vol. 22, No. 6, Nov., 1920,
p. 205.

Ckavf., B. H. and Walker, Ernest P.

1916. Wyoming Birds. University of Wyoming Bulletin, \'ol.

12, No. 6, pp. 1-137 (June i, 1913; published Feb.,
1916).

This account is supplementary to Knight's "The
Birds of Wyoming."

Grin NELL, George Bird

1876. "Birds." In Ludlow's Report of a Reconnaissance from
Carroll, Montana, to Yellowstone National Park and
Return, 1875, PP- 7~-9^- ^ ■ ^- ^^ 3'' D^pt-

HAGtTE, Arnold

1893. The Yellowstone Park as a Game Reservation. In
American Big-Game Hunting (The Book of the Boone
and Crockett Club), pp. 268-269. New York.

Knk.ht. W iliu-r C.

1902. The Birds of W^yoming. \\'yoming Experiment Station
(Laramie, Wyo.) Bull. No. 55, pp. 1-174.

Repeats records by Merriam, Grinnell and Coues,
but contains no new matter pertaining to Yellowstone
National Park.

Birds of the Yellowstone iPark 179

Linton, Edwin

1891. A Contribution to the Lite History of Dibothrium Cordi-
ceps Leidy, a Parasite Infesting the Trout of Yellow-
stone Lake. Bull. U. S. Fish Commission, Vol. 9,
1889 (1891), pp. 344-351-

Discusses the relation of the White Pelican to the
parasitic worm in trout.

MiiARNS, Edgar A.

1903. Feathers Beside the Styx. The Condor, Vol. 5, No. 2,

Mar., 1903, pp. 36-38.

Merriam, C. Hart

1873. "Birds." In LI. S. Geological Survey of the Territories
(Montana, Idaho, Wyoming and Ltah) 1872 (1873),
pp. 670-715.

Palmer. T. S.

1907. Notes on Summer Birds of the Yellowstone National
Park. Annual Rept., Superintendent Yellowstone
National Park for 1907, pp. 15-23. U. S. Dept.
Interior.

191 2. The Calaveras Warbler in the Yellowstone National
Park. The Condor, Vol. 14, No. 6, Nov., 1912, pp.
224-225.

Robin.son, Wirt

[An unpul)lished manuscript on birds noted in Yellow-
stone National F'ark during 1907.]

A copy of this paper was deposited, 1924, in the
library of the Roosevelt Wild Life Forest Experiment
Station, Syracuse, New York.

RiDGWAY, Robert

1901-1919. The Birds of North and Middle America. U. S.
National Museum Bull. No. 50, Parts 1-8.

Contains references to work by Merriam, Grinnell
and Coues.

RoosEVELi, Theodore

1904. W^ilderness Reserves. In American Big Game in its

Haunts (The Book of the Boone and Crockett Club),
pp. 23-51. New York.

Roosevelt's account of his camping with John Bur-
roughs in Yellowstone Park, April, 1903. Mentions
a few birds on pages 42-43.

iHo Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin

Saunders, Aketas A.

1921. A Distributional List of the Birds of Montana. Cooper
Ornithological Club, Pacific Coast Avifauna No. 14,
pp. 1-194. Berkeley, Calif.

A valuable reference book although it does ncjt refer
to Yellow.stone Park directly.

SiiiKAs, George, 3RD.

1913. Wild Animals That Took Their Own Pictures by Day
and by Night. National Geographic Mag., \'ol. 24.
No. 7, July, 19 1 3, pp. 809-820.

Contains a few references to aquatic birds and a
picture of White Pelicans on Yellowstone Lake.

.Skinner, Milton P.

*I9I5. "Birds." In The Yellowstone National Park, 1915:
General Information, pp. 49-55. \]. S. Dept. Interior.

T916. The Nutcrackers of Yellowstone Park. The Condor,
Vol. 18, No. 2, pp. 62-64.

* 1916a. "Birds." In The Yellowstone National Park. 1916:

General Information, p]). 56-64. U. S. Dejjt. Interior.

1917. Some Birds of the Yellowstone. American ^Museum

Journal, Vol. 17, No. 2, pp. 129-134.

* 191 7a. "Birds." In General Information Regarding Yellow-

stone National Park, 191 7, pp. 54-59. V. S. Dept.
Interior.

1917b. The O.spreys of the Yellowstone. The Condor, \'(il. 19,
No. 4, pp. 117-121.

1917c. The Birds of Molly Island, Yellowstone National Park.

The Condor, \'ol. 19, No. 6, Nov., 1917, pp. 177-182.

1918. "Birds." In General Information Regarding Yellow-

stone National Park, 1918, pp. 61-66. National Park
Service, U. S. Dept. Interior.

1919. "Birds." In General Information Regarding Yellow-

stone National Park, 1919, pp. 76-83. National Park
Service, U. S. Dept. Interior.
*i9i9a. "Birds." In Report of the Director of the U. S. National
Park Service for 1919, p. 173.

1920. Trumpeter Swan Breeding in Yellowstone I'ark. The

Condor, \'ol. 22, No. 2, Mar., 1920, p. 72.
*i92oa. "Birds." In Rules and Regulations, Yellowstone Na-
tional Park, 1920, pp. 80-90. National Park Service.
U. S. Dept. Interior.

* The notes on birds appearing in these ofticial publications are by M. P.
Skinner, Park Naturalist, although not there credited to him. See also, in
this connection, Palmer, T. S., The Auk. \'ol. .55, pp. 492-493 ; 1918.

Birds of the Yellowstone Park i8l

* 1920b. "Birds." In Report (if the Director of the U. S. National
Park Service for 1920, pp. 208, 224-225.
1920C. The Pink-sided Junco. The Condor, Vol. 22, No. 5,

Sept., 1920, pp. 165-168.
iQJi. ^'ellowstone Park, VVyo. [Christmas Bird Census. | In
Bird-Lore's Twenty-first Christmas Census. Bird-
Lore, Vol. 23, No. I, Jan., 1921, p. 29.
*i92ia. "Birds." In Rules and Regulations, Yellowstone Na-
tional Park, 192 1, pp. 80-90. National Park Service,
U. S. Dept. Interior.
192 [h. The Rocky Mountain Jay. The Condor, Vol. 23, No. 5,
Sept., 1921, pp. 147-151-
*i92ic. "Birds." In Report of the Director of the IT. S. Na-
tional Park Service for 192 1, pp. 179-180.

1922. 'i'he Dipper. The Condor, Vol. 24, No. i, Jan., 1922,

I)p. 18-21.

I(j22a. " P)irds." In Rules and Regulations, Yellowstone Na-
tional Park, 1922, pp. 73-83. National Park .Service.
V. S. Dept. Interior.
*i922l). "l)irds." In Report of the Director of the U. S. Na-
tional Park Service for 1922, p. 107.

1923. Additions to the List of Birds from Yellowstone Park

The Condor, Vol. 25, No. i, Jan., 1923, p. 28.

1923a. Feeding Habits of the Rocky Mountain Haii-y Wood-
pecker. The Condor, Vol. 25, No. i, Jan., 1923, p. 32.

1923I). "Birds." In Rules and Regulations, Yellowstone Na-
tional Park, 1923, pp. 75-85, 100. National Park
Service, U. S. Dept. Interior.

1924. The Yellowstone Nature Book. Pp. 1-229. McClurg,

Chicago.

W.ARD, Hi:nry B.

1924. Banding While Pelicans. The Condor, \'ol. 2f), No. 4,
July, 1924, pp. 136-140.

Wheeler, Ol:n D.

1893. Wonderland, 1893. Northern Pacific Railroad, St. Paul.

Contains, on page 71, the earliest rejjort of dead
birds found at Stygian Cave.

Yoi'NG, S. B. M.

1908. "Birds." In Annual Report of the .Superintendent of the
Yellowstone National Park, 1908, p. 11. L'. S. Dept.
Interior.

* The notes on birds appearing in these official piiMications are by M. P.
Skinner, Park Naturalist, although not there credited to him. See also, in
this connection, Palmer, T. S., The Auk, Vol. 35, pp. 492-493 ; 1918.

Map 1. Yellowstone National Park, showing the highways and the localities mentioned in "The Birds of the Yellowstone National Park."

!

I

Map 2. The major fauna! areas or "life zones" of Yellowstone National Park.

INDEX

A

Ahsaroka Mountains, 6i, 03.
Alum Creek, 148, 152.
Amethyst Mountain, 73.
Antelope Creek, 73, 74.
Ants, as bird food, <S2, 104.
Apollinaris Spring, 42.
Avocet, 171.

B

Bailey, Mrs. Florence M., 68, 182.

reference to "Handbook of
Birds," 155.
Baldpate, 60, in, 112, 148, 149, 170.
Bath Lake, 147.
Beaver Lake, 43, 152.
Big Game Range, 125.
Bijah Spring, 88.
Birds, accuracy in observing, 62.

duets of. III.

influenced by hot springs, 85-<;2.
list of Yellowstone Park, 170-
176.

notes for field identification, 155-
170.

of the forests, 102-iog.
of the high slopes, 56, 73, 80-81,
83-84.

of the meadows, 127-133.

of the open, 110-117.

of the small ponds, 111-112.

of the streams, 1 18-125.

of Yellowstone Lake, 93-102,

133-146, 153-155-
relative supremacy of, 112.
singing in beaver meadows, 129.
song periods, 1 11.
tameness tmder protection, 47,

49, 148, 153-
Blackbird, Brewer, 14, 26, 34, 46, 63,

74, 81, 88, 113, 160, 173.
albinos, 45.
Hocking, 33, 55, 74.
migrating, 126-127.
nest, 14. 61.

tormenting Ravens, 60-61.
Red-winged, 15, 89, 149, 160, 165,
173-

Yellow-headed, iii, 132, 159, 163,
173-

Black Growler, 87.

Blacklail Creek valley, 74.
Bluebill, 140, i/i- -Vtv also Scaup
Duck.

Bluebird, Mountain, 14, 16, 51, 74, 80,
87, 89, III, 126, 129, 167, 176.
description, 26.
food, 26, 55, 80-81.
killed by storms, 27.
nesting habits, 26-27, 45, 80.
Western, 176.
Bobolink, 173.
Boiling River, 89, 150.
"Buffalo Bird," 117. See alsn Cow-
bird.

Buffalo Ranch, 117.
Buffle-head, 36, 60, 135, 149, I7i-
Bimling, Lazuli, 20, 167, 174.

Snow, 174.

Lark, 174.

C

Cache Creek, no.

Camp Robber, 68. Sec also Jay,

Rocky Mountain.
Camp Roosevelt, 91.
Canvas-back, 149, 171.
Canyon Camp, 63.

birds seen near, 63-67.
Canyon Hotel, 67.

mammals near, 71.
Cascade Creek, 71, 73.
Catbird, 19, 20, 121, 160, 175.
Chickadee, Mountain, 24, 25, 46, 73,
80, 82, 86, 104, 105, 161, 175.
behavior, 104.
song, 25, III.
Long-tailed, 104, 161, 175.
Christmas Tree Park, 47.
Columbine Creek, 141.
Condor, The, reference to, 155.
Coot, 81, III, 112, 157, 171.

nest, 123.
Cowbird, 117, 160, 173.
Crane, Little Brown, 171.
Sandhill, 46, 157, 171.

compared with Heron, 49, 157.
Whooping, 171.
Creeper, Rocky Mountain, 25, 86,

104, 170, 175.
Crescent Hill, 74.
Crossbill, 165, 173.
White-winged, 174.

I 183]

7

Roosevelt Wild Life nuUetin

Crow, ("lark; sec Nutcracker.

Wcslcrn, 15, 42, 60, 84, 85, 112, 1 13,

117, 159. 173-
Ciil) Creek, 141.
Curlew, Long-billed, 171.

D

Delusion Lake, 154.
Dipper, 15, 36, 59, 87, 88, 8(j-i)0, 107,
119, 122, 125, 149, 160, 175.

habits, 15, 1 19-120.

nest, 19.

winter singing. 89, iii.
Dove, Western Mourning, 35, 158,
172.

Duck, Pacific Harlequin, ijj, 125,
171.

Kuddy, 34, 149, 171.
Scaup, 149, 171.
Wood, 122, 125, 128, 171.
Ducks, call notes, 36.

cxpertncss in rough water, 90.
in beaver ponds, 43.
wintering in Park, 90, 147.
Dunravcn Pass, flowers, 73.
forests, 72-73.
view from, 73.

E

Eagle, Bald, 84, 93, 101-102, 119, 172.
Golden, 60, 84, 93, loi, 113, 149, 172.
nesting, 84-85.
Eagle Nest Rock, 19.
Elk Park, 46.

F

Falcon, Prairie, 1 14, 172.
Finch, Cassin Purple, 33, 36, 55, 63,
86, 166, 173.
description, 45.
Black Rosy, 84, 174.
Cray-crowned Rosy, 84, 174.
Hepburn Ros\-, 84, ij.i.
Mrcholc River, 90, 126, 127, 147.
Fishing Bridge, loi.
Flicker, Red-shafled, 16, So, 103, 162,
165. 173-

comparison wilii Northern Flick-

hybridizing, 55.

nest, 16, 55.
Flat Mountain Arm, 102, 141.
Flowers, 22, 48, 73, 74, 76.

alpine, 73.

inured to frost, 47.

meadow. 22, 61.
Flycatcher, Hammond, 173.
blivc-sided, 33, 168, 173.
Traill, 173.

Western, 33, 164, 173.
Wright, 33, 168, 173.

F'ood of birds, 21, 48, 82, 88, 104.
Forests; see Trees and shrubs.
Fountain Geyser, 51.

G

Gadwall, 170.
(iallatin Mountains, 42.
(iallatin River, 118.
(iardiner, 13, 19, 25.
(iardiner Canyon, 15, 55.
Gardiner River, 17, 20, 23, 40, 75, 8g,
90, 110, 118, 121, 147, 148, 150,
151, 152, 164, 167.
Gas, caves, 85-86.

effects on birds, 85-86.
Geysers, 88, 119, 127, 147.
(iibbon fiiver, 46, 87, 90, 147, 149.
Gibbon Mead"ws, 46.
' -leu Creek, 36.

Golden-eye, American, 122, 149, 171.
Barrow, 34, 36, 60, 61, 89, 90, 93,

122, 135, 148, 149, 156, 171.
diving, 63.
(iolden Gate, 36.
Goldfinch, Pale, 164, 174.
Goshawk, 149, 172.
Goose, Canada, 43, 47, 48, 49, 93, 98-

100, III, 128, 135, 149, 155, 157,

171.

hunted by coyote, 99.
nesting, 98.
protective poses, 99.
wintering in Park, 90, 98.
Hutchins, 171.
Snow, 171.
(irebe, 155.

Eared, 121-122, 124, 170.
Horned, 170.
Pied-billed, 170.
Western, 170.
Grosbeak. Black-headed, 174.

Rocky Mountain Pine, 72, 163, 173.
Western Evening, 161, 163, 173.
(irouse Creek, 139.
Grouse, Columbian Sharp-tailed, 172.
Franklin, 172.

Gray Ruffed, 42, 47, 107-109, 158,
172.

courting, 108.
drumming, 107.
habits, 107.
nesting, 108.
>oung, loS-iof).
Richardson, 25, 51, 107, 158, 172.
booming, 83.
habits, 83.
nesting, 83.

roosting under snow, 83.

with brood, 73.
Sage. 172.
varieties, 25.

Birds of tlic YcUozvsiouc Park

185

Gull, Bonaparte, 170.

talifornia, 59, 61, 64, 94-97- W '
135, 142, 155, 170.
feeding with bears, 59, 97.
nest and \onng, 94.
Ring-billed, 155, 170.

H

Harlccinin Duck, 122, 171.

coasling downstream, 125.
Hawk, Cooper, 172.

Desert Sparrow, 15, 25, 109, 113,
158, 172.
habits, 113-114.
hovering, 74, 113.
mousing, 39, 1 13.
pursued by Robin, 25.
1 )uck, 149, 172.

Ferruginous Rough-legged, 172.
(ioshawk, 149, 172.
Marsh, 33, 159, 172.

hiniting habits, 63, 72, 74.

range in Park, 63.
Pigeon. 33, 159, 172.

striking prey, 46.

pursued hy Robin, 47.
Prairie Falcon, 114, 172.
Ivough-legged, 113, 172.
Sharp-shinned, 17.'..
Swainson, 22, 33, 39, 42, 158, 172.

color phases, 63, 72.

habits, 112.

inoffensiveness, 39, 49.

nest, 112.
Western Red-tailed, 22, 33, 51, 73,
112, 113, 158, 172.

attacked by Nutcracker, 31, 112.

fighting, 35, 112.

inoffensiveness, 39.
Ha\ den Valley, 61, 62,63,94, 110, 134.
Heart Lake, 134, 141, 154.
Henry's Lake, 126.

Hermit Thrush, Audubon, 86, 16S,
176.

Heron, Great Blue, in, 129, 157, 171.

compared with C rane, 49, 157.
Hondoos, 35.

Hummiugliird, Broad-tailed, 131, 173.
Calliope, 33, 131, 166, 167, 173.
Park species, 131.

pngn:icily, 131.
Knfous, 131, 166, 173.

I

Ibis, White-faced Gloss\-, 171.
J

Jackson Lake, 126, 127, 141.
jay. Black-headed, 43, 73, 159, 166,
173.

jay, Black-headed, description, 43.
Pinon, 173.

Rocky Mountain, 43, 64, 73, 168,

173-
call notes, 71.
friendly manners, 68.
nesting habits, 68-71.
J unco. Intermediate, 174.
Montana, 174.

Pink-sided, 25, 43, 51, 56, 59, 63,

73, 81, 86, 163, i6y, 174.
behavior in storms, 57.
feeding on oats, 35, 57.
nesting, 57.

\ictim of gas, 86.
Junction Butte, III, 153.
Jupiter Terrace, 87, 88, 147, 148, 149.

K

Ktlldeer, 34, 87, 88, iii, 149, 157, 171.

habits with young, 42.
Kingbird, 14, II3, 132, 160, 173.
Kingfisher, Belted, 16, 46, 107, 119,
120, 166, 172.

feeding habits, 20, 90.
Kinglet, Ruby-crowned, 51, 166, 167,

175-
song, 82-83.
Western Golden-crowned, 175.

L

Lake Camp, 59, 142.
Lake Hotel, 142.
Lamar River, 151.
Lamar Valley, 75, 81, no, in.
Lark, Desert Horned, 81, 1(13, 173.
habits, 116.

Hoyt Horned, 173.

Pallid Horned, 173.
Lark Bunting, 174.
I-a\ a Creek, 75.

Lava Creek Pond, loi, 151, 152.
Lazuli Bunting, 20, 167, 17J.
Lewis Lake, 126, 134, 141, 154.
Lewis River, 126, 127.
Lindsley, Chester A., 89.
Longspur, Alaska, 174.
Loon, 155, 170.

M

Madisiin i\i\er, 46, 47, (;o, 118, 12^,
126.

Magpie, Black-billed, 71, 86, 173.
Mallard, 34, 36, 40, 46, 49, 51, 60, 66,

74, 87, 88, 89, 90, 93, loi, 112,
122, 125, 128, 135, 144-152, 155,
156, 170.

associating with other birds, 148-
149.

Ronsci'clt ]]'Ud lAfc Bulletin

Mallard, lialhin^ and pi cciiiii^' lialiils,

40, 151-
enemies, 140.

cxperlness in swimming, 147.

fearlessness in Park, 148.

feeding, 151.

flight, 149.

habitats, 144, 147.

in winter, 87, ISO-I.SI.

mating, 1 51-152.

migration, 150.

monlting, 41, 152.

near geysers and hot -springs, 147.

nesting, 40, 152.

seasonal, movements, 144-147,

150-151.
sleeping, 40, 45, 151.
"lipping," 151.
voices, 150.
yoimg, 41, 152.
Mammals, antelope, 74.
heaver, 128, 149.

l)lack or brown bear, 35, 59, 7h

75, 97-
chipmunk, 35, 71.
coyote, 45, 99, 135-13^), 140-
elk, 61, 71, 74, 13''^, I53-
fox, 45, 73.
grizzly bear, 61, 71.
ground squirrel, 35, 41, 71.
meadow mouse, 72.
mink, 45.
moose, 149.
mule deer, 71, 74.
muskrat, 41, loi, 149.
pika or rock rabbit, 35.
woodchuck, 35, 43, 71.
Mammoth Hot Springs, 22, 84, 87,

89, 126, 147, 150, 166, 167, 170.
as a bird haunt, 22, 25, 33-34.
birds at, 33-34-
trees, 25.

Meadowlark, Western, 14, 51, lio-
III, I2ri, 163, 173.

compared with eastern Meadow-
lark, 21, 56.

nesting, 21.

song, 14, 21, iio-iii.
Merganser, 51, 60, 99-101, 125, 135,
148. 156, 170.

II{i()ded, 170.

Ked-brcastcd, 99.

rolibed b\- ("lull, 62-63, ()7, 90.

robbed by Pelican, 94, 99, 140.
Nfiddlc Geyser Basin, 85.
Mi.gration, affected b\- late ice, 93-

of Brewer Blackl)irds, 126-127.

of Mallards, 150.

routes in Park, in, 12^-127.

seen from mountains, 84.

vertical, 81, 125.

M'4iy Island, 91, 93, 94, 95, 134, 135.
I3f), 137, 138, 140, 14', 142, 144,
145, 1.46.
Mount W ashburn, 73, no.
as a liird haunt, 75-85.
description, 75.
trees and flowers, 76.
Mourning Dove, Western, 35, 158,
172.

"Muskrat Pond," 147, 148, 149, 152.
N

N'ez Perce Valley, no.
Nighthawk, Pacific, 33, 1O2, 173.
coloring, 57.
nesting habits, 57.
Xorris (ieyser Basin, 45.
Nutcracker, Clark, 15, 36, 42, 55, 73,
74, 75, 86, 113, 125, 161, 162, 173
description, 28.
food habits, 31.
habitat, 28-31.
habits, 32.
nesting, 32-33.
I)ugnacit\-, 31-32, 45.
Xuthatch, Pygmy, 175.

Red-breasted, 86, 104, if/), 170, 175

foraging habits, 82.
Rocky Momitain, 25, 80, 86, 104.
107, 161, 16S, 175.
as a creeper, 107.

O

Obsidian Creek, 43.
Old Faithful Inn, 52-55, 61, 127.
Osprey, 19, 20, 61, 119, 133, 149, 158,
172.

as a fish eater, 51.
compared with Eagle, 19.
fishing habits, 66, 113, 140.
home life, 66.

nesting in Grand Canyon, 64.
Ouzel, Water; sec Dipper.
Owl, Hawk, 172.
Long-cared, 172.

Rock.\- Mountain Pygmy, 109, 172.
Rocky Mountain Screech, 43, 172.
Short eared, 43. 114, 159, 172.
Suow>-, 84.

Western Horned, 22, 43, 84. irx),
I, =19. 172.
catching ground sfiuirrel, 41.
nesting, 109.

P

Pelican Creek, 93, 97, no, 134.
Pelican Hot Springs, 87.
Pelican ^'alley, 134, 141.
Pelican, Brown, 63, 140.

White, 59, 93-94. 99. 102, 133-144,
156, 170.

Birds of the Yellolvstniic Park

187

Pelican, While, and coyotes, 135-136.
association with other birds, 135.
bathing and preening, 141.
breeding, 142.
breeding range, 141-142.
courtship, 141.
disposition, 135.
diving, 63, 140.
enemies, 135-136, 138, 144.
fishing grounds, 140-141.
fishing habits, 94, 13Q-140.
flight, 134, 136.
majestic beauty, 93.
migration, 139.
nest, 94.
numbers, 139.
parasites, 136.
range, 134.

requirements for nesting, 142.
voice, 139.
\ oung, 94, 143.
Pewee, W estern Wood, 173.
I'halarope, Northern, 171.

Wilson, 97, 157, 171.
PlKiebe, Say, 86-87, 13-^, I73-
Pine Grosbeak, Rock\' Mountain, 72,
165, 173.

Pintail, 60, 122, 128-129, 148, 156, 171.
Pipit, 73, 81, 168, 175.

nesting, 84.
Prismatic Lake, 85.
Purple Finch, Cassin, 33, 36, 55, 63,
86, 166, 173.

description, 45.

R

\\r\], Carolina ; see Sora.
Raven, 15, 60, 84, 85, 87, 113, 159, 173.
mobbing Eagles, 60.
tormented by Brewer Black-
birds, 60-61.
Red-head Duck, 149, 171.

robbed by Coot and Baldpatc,
112.
Redpoll, 174.

Robin, Western, 15, 16. 25, 26, 42, 4^,
45, 47, 51, 55, 86, 87, 89, 104,
107, III, 126, 129, 161, 176.
albino, 62.

catching water insects, 34.

habits, 27, 81.

killed b\- storms, 27.
Rosy Finch, Black, 84, 174.

Gray-crowned, 84, 174.

Heplnirn, 84, 174.
Ruddy Duck, 34, 140, 171.
Rustic Fall, 36.

S

Sandpiper, Baird, 97, 171.
Least, 97, 171.
Pectoral, 171.

Sandpiper, Spotted, 20, 26, 46, 51, 61,

87, 88, 97, IK), 135, 157, 171.
nesting sile, 71.

habits, 120-121.
Western Solitary, 87, 97, 157, 171.
Sapsucker, Red-naped, 103-104, 162,
i6s, 173-

Williamson, 26, 103, 160, 162, 173.

habits, 79.

mating antics, 79.

nesting, 79-80.
Sawyer, E. )., 130, 135, 155.
Scaup Duck, 149, 171.

Lesser, 171.
Scoter, 171.

White-winged, 171.
Shorebirds, 93, 97.
Shoshone Creek, 127.
Shoshone Lake, 127, 134, 141, 144.
Shoveller, 122, 149, 171.
Shrike, Northern, 114, 175.

White-rumped, 175.
Silver Gate, 35.

Siskin, Pine, 33, 86, 164, 170, 174.
Snake River, 118, 125, 126, 127, 134,
141.

Snipe, Wilson, 87, 90, in, 131, 147,
149, 157, 171.
feeding habits, 131-132.
Snow Bunting, 174.
Snow Pass, 26.
Soda Butte Creek, 152.
Solitaire, Townsend, 82, 86, 16S, 17-,

song, 82, III.
Sora or Carolina Rail, 75, 171.
South Arm, loi, 139.
Southeast Arm, loi, 142, 154.
Sparrow, Brewer, 174.
English, 34, 174.
Gambel, 174.

Lincoln, 42, 117, 169, 174.
Mountain Song, 14, 16, 20, 34, 87,

88, 89, III, 169, 174.
song, 14.

Slate-colored Fox, 165, 168, 174.
Western Chipping, 16, 51, 62, 86,

170, 174.
W estern Lark, 174.
Western Savannah, 61, 6?, 117, 169,
174-
song, 133.
Western Tree, 121, 174.
Western Vesper, 39, 42, 117, 1^,1,
163, 169, 174. "
habitat, 116.
singing, 39.
W hite-crowned, 26, 42, 47, 51, 5^,
56, 71, 81, 162, 169, 174.
habits, 27-28.
nest, 33.

singing, 27, 35, 129.
White-throated, 174.

i88 Roosevelt

Specimen Ridge, 73, 1 16.
Spring flowers, 21.

insects, 21.

harbingers, 87.
Storms, effects on birds, 81, 84.
Streams, influence on bird life, 118-
119.

Stygian Cave, 86.
Swallow, 26, 88.
Bank, 169, 175.
Barn, 52, 161, 174.
Cliff, 13, 33. 34. 75. 161, I74-
adaptation in nesting, 52.
nesting habits, 67-68.
migration, 127.
Northern Violet-green, 16, 33, 51,

167, 175-
at Grand Canyon, 66-67.
description, 16.
I'Jough-winged, 175.
Tree, 14, 16, 33, 34, 36, 47, 51, SS,
75, 80, 102, 161, 175.

food, 51.
migration, 126.
nesting, 41.
Swan T.ake, 36, 40, 140, 150.
Swan Lake Basin, 36, 39, 12S.
Swan, Trumpeter, 153-1.S5, I.S7, 171.
description, 153.
disposition, 153.
flight, 154.
habitats, 153.

in a wilderness setting, IS3.
nesting, 154.
records in Park, 154.
voice, 154.
Whistling, (K), loj, 141^ 171.
Swill, W hile-lhroaled, 173.

T

Tanager, Western, 16, 34, 55, 63, 86,
129, 163, 166, 174.
descrijjtion, 52.

discovered b\- Lewis and Clark,

fl.Ncatchiug, 16.
food habits, 52.
nesting, 52.
Teal, 46, 60, 149.

Blue-winged, (J3, ini, 148, it;2, 156,
171.
nesting, loi.
Cinnamon, 171.

Green-winged, 36, loi, T22, 128, 147,
148, 149, 156, 171.
Tern, Black, 97, 170.
Caspian, 170.

nesting on Molly Ishuid, 135.
Teton ^Mountains, 126.
Thrasher, Sage, 175.

Life Bulleiiji

Thrush, Audubon Hermit, 86, 168,
176.

Olive-backed, 176.

Willow, 175.
Tower Creek, 74.
Tower Fall, 74, 91, 110.
'I'ovver Fall Ranger Station,
Towhee, Green-tailed, 20, 8f>, 89, 129,

166, 167, 174.
description, 20.
song, 20, 34,

Spurred, 174.
Trail Creek, 155.

Trees and shrubs, 22, 25, 39, 72, 73,
74. 103.

as conser\ ers of water, 102.

as nesting sites, 102-103.
Trout Creek, 152.
Turbid Lake, 147, 148.
Turustoni-, Ruddy, 172.

U

Upper (ievser Basin, 52, 119, 127, 151,

I()2," If/).

V

X'irco, Western Warbling, 86, 107,

167, 175-

\V

W arbler, .\udubon, 34, 35, 43, 59, 75.
86, 129, 130, 164, 175.

feeding habits, 48, 62.

nest, 48.
Calaveras, 86, 130, 175.
Macgillivray, 86, 164, 175.

habits, 130.
Myrtle, 48, 129, 175.
Orange-crowned, 130, 164, 167, 175.
Pileolated, 34, 129, 164, 175.

characteristics, 39, 130-131.
Town send, 86, 130, 175.
"S'ellow, 16, 33, 129, 164, 175.

nest, 130.

song, 16.

Wa.xwing, Bohemian, 84, 163, 168,
175-

West Thumb, 59, 87, 147.

hot water basin, 90.
W hitney, A. G., 135, 155.
\\ illet. Western, 97, 157, 171.
Wood Duck, 122, 125, 128, 171.
Woodpecker, Alpine Three-toed, 172.

-Arctic Three-toed, 160, 172.

Bachelder, 103, 162, 165, 172.

Lewis, 159, 173.
habits, 132.

Red-headed, 173.

Rocky Mountain Hairy, 103, 162,
165, 17-^

Birds of the Ycllowslniic Park

189

Wood Pcwee, Western, 173.
Wren, Rock, 74-75, 169, 175.

Western House, 170, 175.

Western Marsh. 175.

Y

Yanccj-s, 100.
Yellow-legs, 171.

Greater, 07, 158, 171.
Yellowstone Canj-on, 64, 7.^, 102, iiS,
147.

Yellowstone Falls, 64.

Yellowstone Lake, 50-61, 64, 7,]. 76,
gi, 94, 99, loi, 102, III, iiS,
119, 126, 133, 134, 137, 138, 139,
141, 142, 144, 147, 149, 153, 154.
155. 156, 158.

Yellowstone Lake, description, 93.

waterfowl at outlet, 60, 90.
Yellowstone Park, as a bird haiuit,
13-

description of north part, no.

forests ; sec Trees and shrubs.

waters, 118.
Y ellowstone River, 60, 62, 76, ()0, 94,
99, 101, 102, III, 118, 126, 134,
140, 144, 147, 150, 151, 155. 156,
158.

Upper Yellowstone, 93, 101, 125,
152, 156.

Yellow-throat, Western, 16, 34, in,
114, 129, 164, l(^7, 175.
nesting, in.
song, 16, lu, II. 4.

igo Roosevelt JFild Life Bulletin

BIRDS AS PROTECTORS OF WOODLANDS

"A large number of birds participate in the destruction of forest insects,
and it is fortunate that this is the case, for the insect foes of trees are legion.
More than 500 dilferent kinds of insects are known to live upon a single
species of tree, and the number of individuals of these pests that are some-
times present is practically infinite. Bark infesting insects are among the
most destructive enemies of the forest ; they have been known to kill almost
every tree of certain species over hundreds of square miles. Wood borers
hasten the decay and disintegration of trees and are especially injurious to
shade trees; leaf-feeding insects frequently strip trees or make them appear
as if scorched by fire, and, in some cases, have threatened to destroy all of
the trees upon which they feed over vast areas. The total damage to trees
by insect pests is enormous, and several years ago was estimated to exceed
$110,000,000 annually. Not only is the damage extremely large, but the diffi-
culties of directly combating insect pests in forests are so great that man is
able to do comparatively little. The services of natural enemies of the
destructive insects should therefore be highly appreciated. If they serve to
reduce the damage by only a small percentage, the gain to the country is a
very large sum. Among these enemies, birds arc conspicuous. Their services
are well known and have long been acknowledged. No reasons have thus far
developed for considering any other group of the natural enemies of forest
insects in general, more important than birds."

W. L. McAtee.
American Forestry,
\o\. 21, pp. 681-682; 1915.

CURRENT STATION NOTES

THE RELATION OF BIRDS TO PARKS AND FORESTS

It is now very generally conceded by students of wild life and by
foresters that in wild forest lands and parks the birds are the most
efficient means we have of holding in check the excessive increase
of harmful insects. This is, of course, not only a practical argu-
ment for protecting birds but also one of the strongest economic
arguments for their preservation, in both the National Forests and
the National Parks. But in addition to this benefit the presence of
birds in our National Parks has an interest and charm wholly inde-
pendent of their protective value. The Yellowstone without its
Western Tanager, Mountain Bluebird, ^Vestern Meadowlark, Rocky
Mountain Jay, Dipper, Osprey, California Gull and White Pelican
would, as abundantly illustrated in Mr. Skinner's account of the
birds, lose much of its fascination for thousands of visitors who
come here to see its far-famed wonders.

The visitor who dashes through the Park, with no particular
interest in the less striking aspects of nature, is not likely to take
time to ver)' thoroughly appreciate any of the wonders about him.
But the recreational and educational value of the less startling
features — the forest trees and flowers, the birds and other animal
life — cannot be overestimated. We must strive to develop in our
Park visitors a more contemplative and appreciative attitude of
mind toward wild nature in these solitudes. This is perhaps the
most important and difficult lesson to learn, and one which lies at
the very foundation of our opportunity and responsibility in pass-
ing on these great Parks to future generations in virgin freshness.

THE BIRDS OF THE YELLOWSTONE

The present number of the Bulletin, devoted to the birds of the
Yellowstone National Park, is the fourth contribution from the
Roosevelt Station to our knowledge of the wild life of this, the
greatest wild life preserve in America. The author of this paper,
Mr. M. P. Skinner, has lived for nearly a generation in the Park,
and while he has served it in several capacities he has always devoted
himself to the study of birds. For the past several years, until
recently, he has been the official Yellowstone Park Naturalist, the

[ iQi ]

192

iRnnscvcU Wild Life Bulletin

first one Ifj he appointed in the National Park Service. W'illiout
douht every such Park sh(nild not only have its Naturalist, but tliere
should he in most cases several of them, as the field is too large for
one man, hf)\vever capable. It is only a question of time until all
our more important parks must be fully equipped with a scientific
and a technical stafif, in addition to the administrative ofificials. So
long as the I'arks had few visitors, and were almost wholly wild,
the administrative officers were able to handle the situation, but
now with their hundreds of thousands of visitors, they are rapidly
becoming so congested as to be threatened with grave injury, a
danger which only a technical staff, constantly on guard, can fully
anticipate and ward off.

The Roosevelt Wild Life Station welcomes every opi)ort unity to
assist in this sort of constructive work. Several studies of the wild
life of the Yellowstone have accordingly been made, as follows:
Mr. Edward R. Warren on the beaver (published in part in the
Roosevelt Wild Life Bidletin, Vol. i. No. 2) ; Dr. Richard A. IMutt-
kowski on the food of trout {Bidletin, Vol. 2, No. 4) ; and Mr.
Edmund Heller on the big game animals (Bidletin, Vol. 2, No. 4).
These studies were made possible through the cooperation of Mr.
Howard H. Hays, President of the Yellowstone Park Camps Com-
pany; the naturalists who donated their services; and several
enthusiastic friends of the Station and the Park who contributed
funds. Eurther similar investigations are now in progress.

THE ROOSEVELT WILD LIFE MEMORIAL

As a State Memorial

The State of New York is the trustee of this wild life Memorial
to Theodore Roosevelt. The New York State College of Forestry at
Syracuse is a State institution supported solely by State funds, and
the Roosevelt Wild Life Forest Experiment Station is a part of this
institution. The Trustees are State officials. A legislative mandate
instructed them as follows :

" To establish and conduct an experimental station to be known as
' Roosevelt Wild Life Forest Experiment Station,' in which there shall
be maintained records of the results of the experiments and investiga-
tions made and research work accomplished; also a library of works,
publications, papers and data having to do with wild life, together with
means for practical illustration and demonstration, which library shall,
at all reasonable hours, be open to the public." [Laws of New York,
chapter 536. Became a law May 10, 1919.]

As a General Memorial

While this Memorial Station was founded by New York State, its
functions are not limited solely to the State. The Trustees are furtlur
authorized to cooperate with other agencies, so that the work is by
no means limited to the boundaries of the State or by State funds.
Provision for this has been made by the law as follows:

" To enter into any contract necessary or appropriate for carrying
out any of the purposes or objects of the College, including such as
shall involve cooperation with any person, corporation or association
or any department of the government of the State of New York or
of the United States in laboratory, experimental, investigative or
research work, and the acceptance from such person, corporation,
association, or department of the State or Federal government of
gifts or contributions of money, expert service, labor, materials,
apparatus, appliances or other property in connection therewith."
I Laws of New York, chapter 42. Became a law March 7, 1918.]

By these laws the Empire State has made provision to conduct forest
wild life research upon a comprehensive basis, and on a plan as broad
as that approved by Theodore Roosevelt himself.

Form of Bequest to the Roosevelt Wild Life Memorial

I hereby give and bequeath to the Roosevelt Wild Life Forest
Experiment Station of The New York State College of Forestry at
Syracuse, for wild life research, library, and for publication, the sum
of , or the following books, lands, etc.

RoosEN'ELT Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. 2, No. i. October, 1923.

1. The Control of Blood-sucking Leeches, with an Account of the

Leeches of Palisades Interstate Park Dr. J. Percy Moore

2. Preliminarj' Report on the Parasitic Worms of Oneida Lake, New

York Dr. Henry S. Pratt

3. Acanthocephala from the Fishes of Oneida Lake, New York.

Dr. Harley J. Van Cleave

4. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. 2, No. 2. February, 1924

I. The Ecology of the Plankton Algas in the Palisades Interstate Park.
Including the Relation of Control Methods to Fish Culture.

Dr. Gilbert M. Smith

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. 2, No. 3. March, 1924.

1. The Status of Fish Culture in Our Inland Public Waters, and the

Role of Investigation in the Maintenance of Fish Resources.

Dr. William C. Kendall

2. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor

Roosevelt Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. 2, No. 4. February, 1925.

1. The Relation of Wild Life to the Public in National and State

Parks Dr. Charles C. Adams

2. The Big Game Animals of Yellowstone National Park.

Edmund Heller

3. The Food of Trout in Yellowstone National Park.

Dr. Richard A. Muttkowski

4. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor

RoosEx^LT Wild Life Bulletin, Vol. 3, No. i. February, 1925.

1. The Birds of the Yellowstone National Park Milton P. Skinner

2. Current Station Notes The Director and Editor